The air was colder now. Thinner. Every breath came with a sting of frost, the chill sinking deep into their bones.
Nathan sat slumped against a crumbling wall, his eyes distant and haunted. Whatever Veyruun had put him through had changed him. His words came out clipped and weary, his shoulders hunched with an exhaustion that went beyond physical fatigue.
"Are you sure you're good to keep moving?" Kullen asked, his voice cautious.
Nathan's gaze flickered up, his eyes dull but determined. "I'm fine. Let's just… keep going."
Jalen snorted, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don't look fine. You look like you got dragged through hell and back."
Nathan didn't respond. He simply stared at the ground, his fingers twitching as if trying to hold onto something slipping through his grasp.
"Maybe we should rest," Lucio suggested, glancing uneasily around the desolate village. "Veyruun's messing with us, and charging ahead isn't gonna fix that."
Jalen opened his mouth to argue when Ephraim emerged from the shadows. The old man's presence was almost soothing, his footsteps nearly silent against the frost-bitten ground.
"I see you've endured another trial," Ephraim said, his gaze settling on Nathan with something like pity. "Veyruun's cruelty knows no bounds."
"Yeah, well, we're still standing," Jalen shot back. "And if that stone-faced bastard thinks he can break us, he's dead wrong."
Ephraim's lips twitched into a sad smile. "Bold words. But the mountain grows steeper from here."
"What are you trying to say?" Kullen asked, his tone measured.
"I have led you as far as I can." Ephraim's voice trembled, just slightly. "But the path ahead is not for me to follow."
Jalen's brows knitted together. "What are you talking about? You've been guiding us this whole damn time. We're about to face Veyruun—don't you wanna see him go down?"
"I do." Ephraim's eyes gleamed with something ancient and sorrowful. "But you misunderstand. I am not bound to Veyruun's domain as you are."
Nathan looked up, his expression sharp. "You mean… you're not trying to beat him?"
"No." Ephraim's voice was heavy, the weight of centuries pressing against each syllable. "I am of this place. A voice meant to guide the lost. To warn the foolish. I have lingered here long enough to see the rise and fall of countless souls."
"So what?" Lucio said, his tone sharp. "You're like some kind of… guardian?"
Ephraim shook his head. "No guardian. Only a whisper. A remnant of those who sought judgment and found only despair."
The realization settled over them like a shroud. Jalen's fists unclenched, his shoulders stiffening. "You're… a spirit?"
Ephraim nodded, the gesture slow and resigned. "I am what remains of those who failed. Bound to this village as its voice, cursed to watch others stumble and fall as I once did."
"Damn…" Lucio muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground. "So all this time… you weren't trying to get us out of here. You were just… stuck."
Ephraim's smile was faint, barely more than a shadow. "I tried to help you because it is the only purpose I have left. To guide. To warn. To ensure that others do not make the same mistakes I once made."
Jalen's eyes flashed, his voice laced with frustration. "If you want to be free, then follow us. Help us take that bastard down. Veyruun's the reason you're stuck here, right? If we beat him, you get to move on."
Ephraim's eyes glinted with something unreadable. "You misunderstand again. My presence here is not because of Veyruun's will. It is because of my own failure. My own arrogance."
"That's bullshit," Jalen snapped. "If you wanna be free, then fight for it."
"There is no fight left for me," Ephraim replied, his tone calm but resolute. "I am not a warrior. I am not even a man. I am a voice. A fragment of something that once had purpose."
"So… what now?" Kullen asked, his gaze hardening. "You're just going to stay here and watch us march to our deaths?"
Ephraim's gaze softened. "You may find your death ahead, or you may find something greater. I do not have that answer. But I can tell you where you must go."
"Where?" Nathan asked, his voice raw.
"Up the mountain. Past the clouds." Ephraim pointed toward the jagged peaks rising above the village, their tips lost in a haze of swirling mist. "There, Veyruun waits. His throne lies beyond the storm."
"So we just keep climbing until we reach him?" Jalen scoffed. "Figures."
"Be warned," Ephraim continued, his voice lowering to a grave whisper. "The journey will test you more than anything you have faced thus far. Veyruun's domain is not bound by mortal laws. Reality itself will twist against you."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Lucio muttered, adjusting his rifle.
"Why are you telling us this?" Kullen asked, his expression wary. "If you're bound to this place, why help us at all?"
Ephraim's gaze flickered toward the distant peaks, his expression wistful. "Because you still have a chance. And because… despite my failures, I would see another succeed."
The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of Ephraim's confession sinking into each of them.
"So… that's it then?" Jalen said, his voice softer than before. "You're just gonna stay here and watch?"
Ephraim nodded. "It is all I can do. My fate is sealed. Yours, however… remains to be seen."
Jalen's fists clenched, but he said nothing. His gaze burned with a defiance that refused to be snuffed out.
"Fine." Jalen's eyes flickered between gold and violet. "Then we'll beat him. And when we do, maybe you'll find your own damn way out."
Ephraim's smile returned, softer this time. "Perhaps. But for now… you must climb."
The old man's form shimmered, his outline fading like mist caught in the breeze. Before he vanished completely, his voice lingered on the air.
"Remember… Veyruun's trials are not meant to be conquered. They are meant to be understood."
And then he was gone.
Jalen's jaw tightened. "Well… guess we know where we're headed."
"To the top," Kullen agreed, his gaze hardening. "Past the clouds."
"And straight to Veyruun's doorstep," Lucio added, his voice taut with determination.
Nathan said nothing, but his eyes held the weariness of a man far older than his years.
They moved forward, their steps heavy but unyielding. The mountain loomed above, its peaks shrouded in clouds that swirled like angry phantoms.
They climbed higher, each step heavier than the last. The air grew colder, biting into their skin with a sharpness that bordered on cruelty. Clouds swirled around them, thick and gray, until the world became nothing but mist and shadow.
"Can't see shit," Lucio muttered, his voice muffled by the fog. "We even going the right way?"
"If we weren't, Veyruun would've already made his point," Kullen replied. "The fact we're still moving means we're getting closer."
"Good," Jalen said, his voice tight with anticipation. "Because I'm ready to put my fist through his skull."
Nathan kept his eyes forward, his steps steady but weary. The lines on his face seemed deeper, his expression older. Whatever trial Veyruun had forced him through, it had left scars far beyond the physical.
Their boots crunched against frost-coated stone, the incline steepening until their legs burned with the effort. But they pressed on, the memory of Ephraim's words echoing in their minds.
"Up the mountain. Past the clouds."
The mist thickened until it felt like they were wading through water. Jalen's fingers twitched at his sides, his eyes flickering between gold and violet. Lucio's knuckles remained wrapped and bloodied, his rifle clutched tight against his shoulder. Kullen's gaze never left the path ahead, his determination a force of its own.
And Nathan… Nathan looked like he was fighting to stay present. Like his mind was still clawing its way free from some unseen snare.
Then, abruptly, the fog thinned.
They emerged from the clouds and found themselves standing before a towering structure. Its architecture was both beautiful and terrifying—a medieval courtroom carved from obsidian and iron, its spires twisted like spears reaching for the heavens.
Massive pillars flanked the entrance, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns that seemed to move and writhe under the dim, unnatural light. The doors creaked open as they approached, the sound a low, mournful groan that echoed through the air.
"Well… this is inviting," Lucio muttered.
Jalen cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "About damn time. Let's get this over with."
They stepped through the doors and into the chamber. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, vanishing into darkness. Rows of stone seats lined the sides of the hall, their designs ornate and cold. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames burning with a pale, ghostly hue.
And there, at the center of the room, sat Veyruun.
His form was colossal, his body sculpted from black stone and shadow, veins of molten gold coursing through his frame like rivers of fire. His throne was carved from jagged rock, its edges sharp enough to draw blood.
He did not move. He did not speak.
He only stared.
But his gaze was fixed solely on Jalen.
"Anyone else getting some serious courtroom vibes here?" Lucio whispered, his eyes darting around the chamber.
"This is judgment," Kullen replied, his voice low. "The kind Ephraim warned us about."
Nathan's breath hitched, his gaze locked on Veyruun's towering form. "He's… not even looking at us."
"Yeah, I noticed," Jalen said, his voice edged with irritation. "Big guy's got a lot of nerve, just sitting there like we don't exist."
"Maybe to him, we don't," Kullen said. "He's a god. His priorities are… different."
"Well, he better start prioritizing my boot in his ass," Jalen snapped, his fists clenching. "Hey! Rock-head! You hear me, or are you just pretending to be deaf?"
Veyruun's gaze remained locked on Jalen. His eyes—molten gold and unwavering—seemed to pierce through him, dissecting him with a precision that felt almost surgical.
"Jalen…" Nathan whispered. "Maybe… maybe don't antagonize him?"
Jalen scoffed. "Why not? Isn't that what we came here to do? Take him down?"
"Maybe this isn't the kind of fight you think it is," Kullen replied. "He's not acting like a monster waiting to be killed. He's waiting for something. Watching."
"Watching me," Jalen corrected. "He hasn't taken his eyes off me since we walked in."
Kullen's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Jalen. Whatever he sees in you, it's keeping him from noticing the rest of us. Maybe you should use that to our advantage."
Lucio's fingers twitched over his rifle. "Or maybe he's just waiting for the right moment to crush you."
"Let him try," Jalen said, his eyes flashing. "I've been waiting to crack his skull open since we got here."
Veyruun's silence stretched on, his gaze unblinking and absolute. The room felt colder, the air growing heavier with each passing second.
Jalen took a step forward, his grin sharpening. "You got something to say, or are you just gonna sit there playing statue?"
Still, Veyruun said nothing. But the weight of his gaze bore down on Jalen like a physical force, making it difficult to breathe.
"Okay, this is getting creepy," Lucio muttered, his voice tight. "What the hell is he doing?"
"He's watching," Kullen replied, his own gaze unwavering. "Judging."
"Judging what?" Jalen snapped. "If he wants a fight, he's got one."
"No." Kullen's eyes narrowed. "I think he's judging whether or not you belong here."
Jalen's expression faltered, his grin twisting into something bitter. "He can judge me all he wants. I'm still kicking his ass."
Veyruun's gaze did not waver. It was as if the god was seeing something in Jalen that no one else could. Something beyond the surface.
The silence was absolute. Crushing.
"Okay…" Lucio said, his voice strained. "What the hell do we do now?"
"We keep moving," Kullen answered, his expression resolute. "He's waiting for something. But that doesn't mean we stop."
The others hesitated, their eyes flicking between Jalen and Veyruun. But Kullen's resolve was like steel, unyielding and sharp.
"Come on," Kullen urged. "We keep pushing. Whatever Veyruun's waiting for… we're not giving him the satisfaction of backing down."
They pressed forward, their steps echoing through the chamber. But even as they moved, Veyruun's gaze remained fixed on Jalen.
Watching. Judging.