Trials of the Path: [The Path of Ascension] (Part 1)

Before a door that seemed made for a giant, Maximus stepped forward.

As soon as his hand touched it, a message appeared before his eyes:

[End of the 2nd Trial]

[End of the Trials of Being]

[The ascension to divinity begins with the total sublimation of one's being. Exposing your essence to the world is the beginning of your existence and its surrender to the mysteries of reality.]

[In this act of understanding, your being is liberated and bound to the great unknown.]

A few moments later, the great door swung open, and another message appeared:

[Beginning of the Trials of the Path]

[There, in this intimate and infinite unveiling, divinity awaits you. Use your being to reach it.]

[Your path to eternity is waiting to be traced.]

[Beginning of the 3rd Trial.]

At that precise moment, an intangible force pulled Maximus into the room, still identical to the previous ones.

The great door slammed shut as information about the next trial appeared.

[Trials of the Path: Path of Ascension]

[Your path must be defined. Just as a mortal cannot be in multiple places at once, they cannot traverse multiple paths.]

[Will you take the path toward creation and stand alongside the makers of miracles? Will you take the path toward destruction and stand alongside the annihilators of reality? Or will you choose a duality?]

[Your choices will determine your path.]

[Identifying the path...]

[Your desires to bring your light and fight against those who oppose you resonate together.]

[Show your skills against those who seek to hinder your path. Fight to your limits.]

[Your exploits will bear witness to your story.]

As soon as this luminous message faded, the environment around him distorted. After a mere blink, the space was new.

Before him lay grand steps stretching to the horizon as far as the eye could see. They pierced the white skies to a point that seemed infinite. They were of multiple colors, adhering to the order of the light spectrum. The first steps were a scarlet red.

After a moment of dizziness, Maximus began to ascend. He was suspicious of how easily he climbed and started to mentally prepare for the battles the messages had announced.

He dreaded this kind of trial, where combat skills would be put to the test. Of course, you might wonder why, even though it was evident: he didn't know how to fight.

With his 5'3" height and skeletal frame, he could hardly hope to defeat anyone. He thought about what he could do at that moment. He would likely run until he found an opening.

But was it really that simple? The first two trials hadn't tested him in that way, and he hadn't developed anything particular during them.

One had tested his past, while the other had challenged his ingenuity in manipulating the environment.

After climbing ten steps, he reached a scarlet platform. Upon it, a silhouette began to appear, forming from a mist emanating from the platform.

At its emergence, a great silence weighed in the air. After a moment, Maximus murmured in astonishment, "What is that?"

Before him stood a figure that mirrored him perfectly. From its slight frame to its sapphire eyes, it was as if he were facing a mirror.

However, unlike him, it held a small rusted sword in its hand. Without waiting, this clone of himself advanced and swung its sword at him. Instinctively, Maximus leaned slightly to the left.

The sword pierced his right shoulder, blood flowing. He screamed in agony as he bent down to withdraw the sword and fled.

The platform seemed limitless, like a new space. Gasping from pain, Maximus exclaimed, "Damn it, that hurts..."

For what felt like ten minutes, he tried to escape his pursuer as fatigue overwhelmed him. He could hear the footsteps of his assailant as panic set in: "What can I do?"

Trying to calm himself amidst the approaching footsteps, he pondered: "What's so different between the two of us?"

He continued, "We have the same body, the same strength, aside from the sword it wields, which can easily kill me."

At the end of this reflection, the silhouette drew closer. However, he noticed it had a strange gaze, as if it wasn't looking at him but seeing beyond.

As it prepared to swing its sword, Maximus wondered: "It seems like it has no consciousness of its own... It's as if it lacks intelligence."

Based on this assumption, he devised a plan while dodging the sword strike. In truth, he could dodge fairly easily. The advantage of this clone fighting him was that it had the same physical attributes.

If he could anticipate the direction of its strikes, which, to put it bluntly, were those of a novice, he might have a chance. Worse yet, it was just swinging the sword in hopes of hitting him.

Of course, he couldn't claim any better of himself; a child could beat him due to his malnutrition.

Putting those thoughts aside, he decided to end it. Fatigue was overwhelming him, and he wanted to conserve more endurance for what lay ahead, for he wasn't naïve enough to believe this trial would end so easily.

He knew there would be more fighters to face. He opted for a simple strategy, realizing the lack of intelligence of this enemy.

He touched his right shoulder, which was still bleeding profusely, to the point where he began to feel faint.

He cupped his hands over it. After a moment, he had gathered enough blood that his body appeared paler than it already was.

"I hope this works; otherwise, I might just die."

He crouched down and lay flat on his stomach, hiding his hands beneath his body, pretending to be injured. He hoped to deceive the assailant by playing dead. It didn't take long for it to act.

Like a mindless machine, it swung its sword onto Maximus's back, who did everything to avoid screaming in pain.

The sword was lodged in his back a few centimeters from his spinal cord, which it hadn't reached, surely due to the clone's weak strength.

Maximus quickly rose, pulled the sword from the ground, and immediately flung the blood into his unarmed adversary's eyes, blinding it.

As the latter tried to rub its eyes, Maximus picked up the sword from the ground and, without further ado, attempted to decapitate it with a first strike.

He missed due to the clone's erratic movements, then attempted a second time, finally severing its head. "Ahhh... I did it!"

As if all the tension in his body had disappeared at once, he collapsed onto the ground to catch his breath.

Overwhelmed by a feeling of triumph, he laughed alone, like a madman in this silent environment.

But it was short-lived, as he noticed the platform he was on began to dissipate rapidly.

He started to panic until he spotted orange stairs appearing beside him. He was about to flee up them but stopped abruptly, turning back toward the silhouette of the clone, which was also fading.

He rushed toward it and tried to grasp the sword before it disappeared. He held it in his hand as it began to reform completely. He swung it lightly to ensure its solidity.

Then, he resumed running toward the stairs, declaring with the sword in hand: "This is better this way."

He reached the orange staircase and climbed the first step. As soon as his foot made contact with the step, the scarlet platform completely dissipated. Ethereal particles of light, seemingly emanating from a luminous source, slowly penetrated the pores of his skin, relieving him of his fatigue and pain.

He continued to ascend the stairs, and the particles of light intensified as he climbed. Enveloped by the feeling of healing that engulfed him, he noticed the wounds on his back and shoulder slowly closing.

"This is truly miraculous," he murmured.

He observed the particles of light during his ascent, making sure to progress slowly to benefit as much as possible.

Then, remembering the light from the second trial, he tried to manipulate them using his understanding.

"Could it work like before?"

He attempted to gather the particles and see if their light could guide him toward the right path. To his disappointment, nothing appeared, as if that wasn't their role.

After a few moments of contemplation, he began to gather them more intensely around himself. Instead of allowing them to simply infiltrate, he forced them to penetrate deeper into his muscles.

However, this only resulted in relaxation and increased fatigue, with no beneficial effect.

He desperately sought something better. Since he had discovered that he could manipulate these ethereal particles, he wanted to use them for the next fight.

For a while, he tried all sorts of approaches. He grouped them to let them infiltrate a specific muscle, but the result was always the same, albeit more intense.

He tried in his lungs, which caused a stronger intake of air, intensifying his body, but the effect was temporary and of low intensity. He experimented with different parts of his body until he reached his heart, which caused an adrenaline surge that empowered him.

The effect was incredible; he could feel a tremendous force coursing through him, but it wasn't enough.

Although the effect was interesting, he couldn't afford to feel overwhelming fatigue that would reopen his healed wounds.

He had to sit on a step among those he had climbed.

Reflecting, he thought: "What if I tried this on my brain?"

Of course, it was risky, but he had no other choice, even if it might damage his neurons.

He wasn't merely looking to strengthen himself temporarily or suffer setbacks; he wanted to grow stronger with every battle.

Every experience, every pain,each defeat or victory was not meant to break him but to propel him further. He no longer wanted to suffer from weakness or die because of it.

He fought for his future, for the world he yearned to bring into existence. To him, freedom was not a dull and foolish concept, merely the absence of rules or submission to his impulses.

No, his freedom lay in pursuing his dreams and ambitions unimpeded. He wished to be a hero for others, but above all, for himself. Not a hero destined to fade away with time, but a true hero who did not sacrifice himself.

A hero was someone whose principles and ambitions were not tarnished by others, a person whose will was unshakable.

Someone who survived the darkness of the world and emerged stronger, a light that intensified in the presence of shadows.

That was his goal, and that's why he strived to survive.

Reaffirming his resolve, he stimulated his brain with these particles, unleashing an excruciating pain, as if a red-hot iron was being driven into his mind.

He screamed so loudly that he nearly fainted: "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh..."

He grit his teeth until they bled, resisting the agony. But it wouldn't stop; time seemed to slow in his perception as the pain grew more intense, blood trickling from his nose.

A similar reaction to the stimulation of his heart forced him to pause.

He caught his breath and channeled the light particles to accelerate his healing.

Gradually, he regained his clarity while reflecting on his previous attempts.

"I tried to do something too unrealistic. If it were that simple to gain the power to adapt to every fight, everyone could become a god."

However, he was not seeking to give up. No. He sought something different to survive in this world.

What he lacked was not his determination; it was his body. He was too limited and would never surpass others solely through training.

He aspired for more. He wanted to embody a star, something vast that would flood the worlds with its light.

A force strong enough to survive the creation and destruction of countless celestial bodies.

In that moment, a spark ignited. A thought too impossible to realize. He forced the ethereal particles to gather toward his mind, attempting to form a sun of light that would serve as his source of strength.

Luckily for him, the energy he had amassed, which should have killed him in this reckless attempt, triggered an instinctive self-defense reaction in his body, redirecting that energy.

His will, ever persistent in this action, intertwined with his consciousness in a space separate from physical reality, leaving him awestruck before the vision that unfolded before him.