Eighty-Seven: The Crucible

Aurora Forest

Astralis City, Auroria Kingdom

Sol continent, Terra

Gaea solar system. Milky Way galaxy

Luminary star system

25th Astralis cycle,

Solaris Prime, 572,413

Rosa watched in wary silence as the Beastman tended to the fire. The flickering flames cast warm, shifting shadows across his broad frame, his every motion deliberate and calm. He crouched over the campfire, turning the skewered snake meat so it would roast evenly. The faint crackle of the fire mingled with the scent of charred spices and succulent fat, the aroma thick and mouthwatering.

Rosa's stomach growled faintly, a reminder of how long it had been since her last proper meal. Despite herself, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the roasting meat. Her mouth watered involuntarily, the smoky fragrance tempting her in ways she hadn't expected.

She shifted slightly on the ground where she sat, her back straight but her muscles taut. Her hand rested near her weapon, though she knew it would do her no good if this Beastman turned on her. He was calm now, but the sheer power rolling off him in quiet waves was unmistakable. He wasn't just stronger—he was far beyond her in cultivation, and every glance at his steady movements reminded her of it.

He had introduced himself as Enkidu. His voice had been even, neither cruel nor kind, but tinged with a strange gravity that made it hard to defy him. He had offered her food, a chance to sit by his fire. And though he hadn't forced her, Rosa knew she had no real choice.

What could she do? Refuse and starve? Draw her weapon and try to fight him? That would be suicide. She wasn't foolish enough to challenge someone in the Master Realm when she was barely Adept. So she stayed, her pride stinging at the thought of taking handouts, but her hunger louder than her pride.

The flames danced on the serpent's flesh, turning it a rich, golden brown. The savory scent grew stronger, and Rosa's stomach gave another muted grumble. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to keep her composure as her eyes flicked between the roasting meat and Enkidu's composed expression.

"Where are you from, Omininarch?" Enkidu asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. The light of the fire flickered over his sharp features, his golden eyes reflecting the flames as he turned the spit over the fire. With a slight wave of his hand, the meat on Rosa's side of the spit levitated smoothly through the air, guided by his Will. It landed on a broad leaf in front of her, perfectly seared and savory. The smell alone was enough to make her stomach twist with hunger.

Rosa hesitated, eyeing the Beastman carefully. He'd called her that name before—Omininarch. The word carried a weight she didn't understand, but she couldn't let him see her confusion. She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep her expression steady. How could she explain that she wasn't from this place? That she'd come from the "real" world, searching for something she barely understood herself? Admitting the truth could make her seem even weaker in front of someone already so powerful.

Instead of answering, she tore a piece of the meat free with her fingers. It was hot, the juices running as she brought it to her lips. She bit down, the flavor rich and surprisingly tender. The smoky spices and natural oils burst across her tongue, momentarily distracting her from the Beastman's question. She focused on chewing, letting the quiet sounds of the forest around them fill the space. Enkidu watched her, his golden eyes steady but not impatient. "

Not willing to answer, huh?" he said after a moment, his tone casual though his gaze was sharper than it seemed. Rosa's hands froze for a split second. She could feel the weight of his scrutiny. It wasn't just the question; it was the way he looked at her, as if he could sense something she didn't fully grasp. Even without her answering, he seemed to be reading more than she wanted to reveal.

Enkidu's heightened senses were attuned to the natural forces around them. He could feel the subtle shifts in the ambient energy, the way the natural laws seemed drawn to her despite her relatively low realm. It was an anomaly—one that shouldn't exist—and yet, here she was. This Omininarch radiated a pull on the world that outstripped her apparent power. one couldn't blame him for wanting to know more about her.

Rosa stayed quiet for a moment longer, focusing on the food. She tore another piece of the roasted meat, chewing methodically, as though the simple rhythm of eating could silence the questions in her mind.

"I'm looking for my friends," she said finally, her voice soft but steady. "I thought I knew where one of them was, but now…" She trailed off, her thoughts turning to Sam. She had felt Sam's presence out there somewhere, faint but recognizable. But now that feeling had vanished. The threads of connection she'd been following had unraveled, leaving her grasping at nothing.

Enkidu laughed—a rich, deep sound that echoed through the quiet forest clearing. It wasn't a cruel laugh, more amused, as though her honesty entertained him. He tore a chunk of meat from the snake, chewing with no rush, and gave her a sharp, golden-eyed glance.

"And I'm running away from mine," he said, his grin widening just a touch.

Rosa frowned. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice tinged with irritation but also curiosity. She wasn't used to being watched so intently, so casually, and she couldn't figure out why this Beastman hadn't moved on yet.

Enkidu paused, his large hand holding the meat in mid-air. "I came into the forest because I sensed a divergence in the metaphysical plane," he said at last. His tone had shifted, a seriousness beneath the casual words. "Something's changed, and I wanted to know what it was. Then I came across you." He tilted his head, watching her reaction closely. "And now, here we are."

Rosa's fingers tensed around the half-eaten meat in her hand. A divergence in the metaphysical plane. She didn't fully understand what that meant, but she knew what he was implying—that something about her presence here was causing it. The natural laws around her, the energy that felt just slightly off… Could he sense she didn't belong?

How can he know? Rosa thought, her heartbeat quickening. How can an Echo—a being in an imprinted pocket space—sense something so far beyond his reality?

She studied him carefully, watching how he moved, how his eyes flicked to her, measuring her. He doesn't know for sure, does he? He's just following an instinct. A sharp instinct, sure, but he can't know.

Still, she felt a chill at the possibility. She wasn't ready to reveal the truth, not to someone like him. Whatever connection he had to the fabric of this plane, it was clearer than hers. For now, all she could do was keep him talking and hope she could find her way back to Sam—and away from him—before his sharp senses picked up more than she could afford.

"I sensed the other two you were heading toward," Enkidu said, his voice calm but layered with curiosity. "The Gibboram tribe is already dealing with them." He finished the last bite of his meal, brushing his hands off before rising to his full height. The firelight highlighted the contours of his powerful frame, his muscles rippling subtly as he stretched. Though he had eaten, a flicker of hunger still lingered in his sharp golden eyes—yet he pushed it aside, his attention drawn to something far more intriguing.

He sniffed the air, the motion deliberate and precise, as though he could catch the essence of the world's shifting currents. The natural laws around him pulsed faintly, responding to his heightened senses. "It seems things are about to get… interesting," he murmured.

Before Rosa could even begin to question his meaning, he moved. In one swift motion, Enkidu grabbed her and leapt upward, his powerful legs propelling them both high into the crystal canopy. Rosa let out a surprised yelp, the sudden rush of wind whipping past her face as the world blurred around them. The crystal branches seemed to bend and shimmer under their weight, refracting light in dazzling patterns as Enkidu moved effortlessly, each step on a branch as steady as solid ground.

When they reached the topmost branches, Enkidu perched lightly on a thick limb, his sharp gaze fixed on the horizon. From their vantage point, the city's edge came into view—a sprawling, gleaming metropolis of towering spires and radiant bridges that glowed faintly against the fading daylight. The distant hum of mana-powered conduits reached them even here, like a faint whisper from another world.

But something was wrong. A strange ripple moved through the air, a subtle distortion that seemed to twist the space near the city's boundary. Enkidu's golden eyes narrowed, his pupils contracting as he focused on the phenomenon. His body tensed, his instincts telling him that whatever was happening down there was not natural. Another divergence, stronger and more chaotic than before, vibrated through the natural laws.

"What's happening?" Rosa managed, her voice tight as she clung to his arm.

Enkidu didn't answer immediately. His gaze swept over the scene, picking out subtle cues—flashes of unusual light, a faint shimmer in the mana streams that ran along the city's perimeter. He inhaled deeply, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Something big," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something that will change things."

Rosa squirmed in his grasp, her body twisting as she tried to break free. "Can you put me down?" she snapped, her tone sharp with irritation. She pushed against his arm, but it was like pressing against a steel beam. His grip didn't tighten, but neither did it relent. It held firm—secure, unmoving, and wholly inescapable.

"Not yet," he said, his attention still on the city's edge. "There's more to see."

Enkidu leapt effortlessly from the crystal tree, carrying Rosa down to a hidden clearing deep within the forest. Nestled within the underbrush was the mouth of a dark, yawning cave. The air around it was thick with the faint, electric hum of concentrated mana—an invisible barrier that concealed its presence from ordinary senses. Rosa peered into the shadowy depths, her unease growing as she tried to make sense of what he intended to do next.

"There's a passage in here that will take us to the city," Enkidu said, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. He didn't wait for Rosa to protest, striding forward with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. She reluctantly followed, the faint glimmer of the cave walls offering little comfort as the darkness swallowed them whole.

Inside, the air grew heavier, thick with ancient energy. Faint glyphs glowed on the walls, their shifting patterns forming a map of forgotten paths. Enkidu's golden eyes scanned them briefly before he raised his hand, his fingers tracing a few of the symbols. A deep, resonant hum filled the cave as the glyphs flared bright, and in an instant, the space around them distorted.

The transition was almost seamless. One moment, they were standing in the dim confines of the cave, and the next, they found themselves in the shadow of Astralis' towering outer walls. The city gates loomed before them, the crystalline barrier shimmering faintly with protective energy. Rosa stumbled slightly at the abrupt shift, her head spinning as she tried to orient herself.

"Stay quiet," Enkidu said, his voice low and steady. "I'll keep us hidden." With a faint gesture, he summoned a subtle veil of mana, masking their presence. The air around them wavered like heat haze, bending the light just enough to render them invisible to wandering eyes.

Rosa peered cautiously toward the gate. Her eyes widened as she spotted Leon Haravok standing there, his golden armor gleaming under the faintly glowing city lights. He looked towering, regal, and completely in control of the battlefield. But what the hell was he doing here?

"Leon...how...how is he here..."

Enkidu noticed the confusion on Rosa's face, and though he had no idea who Leon was, he inferred that she was referring to Gilgamesh.

"That's the Prince. Gilgamesh Noavellion. Looks like he's stopped looking for me to handle this," Enkidu said. And then Rosa saw the abomination. It was a twisted, grotesque creature, its form a chaotic blend of sinewy flesh and warped crystalline growths. Its multiple limbs writhed as it lunged toward Gilgamesh, each movement causing the ground to quake beneath its weight. A thick, unnatural fog clung to it as if the very air around it rejected its existence.

But the Leon look-alike stood unmoved. With a single, fluid motion, he raised his crystal sword. The weapon shimmered, a faint hum of divine resonance emanating from its edge. He took a step forward, his presence alone halting the abomination's charge. A golden aura surrounded him, faint arcs of light radiating outward like ripples on a pond. His sword cut through the air with a soundless precision, and the abomination's massive form froze mid-strike.

"He didn't even break a sweat," Rosa murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Enkidu only smirked.

The abomination let out a hollow, guttural sound, its body splitting apart as if the fabric of its existence was being unraveled. Gilgamesh lowered his sword, and the creature collapsed into the void rift that had appeared from the slash. The fog dissipated, leaving the city gate clear once more.

Rosa's heart leapt as her gaze shifted beyond Leon. There, just beyond him, she spotted Sam and Henry. They stood at the gate's edge, their expressions a mix of awe and caution as they watched the legendary warrior finish his work. Rosa's relief was palpable. They were alive.

"Sam! Henry!" she called out, but her voice was drowned by the crackling remnants of the abomination's collapse. Enkidu placed a steady hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

"They can't hear you," he murmured. 

As if in answer, the Leon look-alike turned toward Sam and Henry, his piercing blue gaze locking onto them. The tension in the air shifted, but instead of hostility, there was recognition in his expression. Rosa couldn't hear what they were talking about, and after a while, the golden warrior turned, leading Sam and Henry to a sleek, mana-powered vehicle that hovered just above the ground. Its crystalline panels shimmered faintly, the runic carvings along its surface pulsing in rhythm with the faint hum of its engines. Sam exchanged a brief glance with Henry before following, her movements wary but deliberate.

Rosa watched them board the vehicle, her heart aching to call out to them.

"What's he going to do to them?" she asked quietly.

"They'll be fine," Enkidu said, his golden eyes still fixed on the vehicle as it began to glide toward the heart of the city. "Gilgamesh has no reason to harm them. They're safer with him than they would be anywhere else right now."

The vehicle hummed as it moved off into the distance, disappearing behind the towering gates and leaving Rosa and Enkidu still hidden in the shadows.

"Still, the woman you referred to as Sam—why would you call her that?" Enkidu asked, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Rosa.

Rosa hesitated, caught off guard. "What do you mean?" she said carefully, watching his expression.

"Ever since I felt the divergence, things have shifted." Enkidu's voice carried a weight of knowing that made Rosa uneasy. "Things that should be impossible are happening—like the appearance of that abomination. Such a creature has no place here. It shouldn't exist. I want to know why it does." He tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing as though he could see through her hesitation.

Rosa wasn't sure how to respond. He knows something is off, she thought. He can sense the fabric of this place bending, even if he doesn't fully realize it. Her mind raced, wondering if his sharp instincts were strong enough to pierce the veil of his reality. Could he somehow tell that this was an Echo, that everything he knew might just be a fragment of something long gone?

If this is just his Echo, a mere remnant left behind, how powerful must he have been when he was alive? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Whatever the truth, Rosa had no intention of revealing more than she had to.

"Welcome, Inastasia Vysileaf," the doppelganger said, her voice steady and commanding. "Or perhaps… Sam?"

Sam's breath hitched as she stared at the woman before her. She looked exactly like her—not just a resemblance, but an identical reflection, as if staring into a mirror that reached down to the soul. The shock rippled through Sam, leaving her momentarily speechless. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air heavier, as though it recognized the presence of something extraordinary.

The two women began to move, slowly circling one another. Their eyes met, each examining the other, searching for answers in every detail. It wasn't just their appearances that mirrored one another—it was their presence, their essence. The uncanny symmetry sent a shiver through Sam, but she couldn't break away.

Then it happened—a sensation like a thread being pulled taut. Something unseen and unspoken took hold, as if their very existence was intertwined. The air grew thick with tension, trembling as if the room itself was alive. The others—Henry, Callum, and Trini—instinctively backed away, their footsteps hesitant. The walls vibrated faintly, and the light around them seemed to distort, bending in response to the charged energy emanating from the two women.

Sam gasped as a surge of knowledge flooded her mind. Memories—foreign yet familiar—poured into her consciousness like a tidal wave. She saw images of a life she had never lived, yet felt as if she had. Two figures stood out: a woman with emerald hair, olive-brown skin, and piercing green eyes, and a man with deep brown skin, black hair, and glowing orange eyes. She knew them, though she had never met them. They were her parents, weren't they? Or rather, the parents of this other Sam—Inastasia Vysileaf.

She felt herself being raised in a towering temple under the watchful eye of the High Priestess. That figure—so powerful, so divine—was a blur in Sam's mind, as though her memory refused to hold the High Priestess' image. Sam remembered—or was it Inastasia remembering?—being taught the sacred doctrines of the Octagram religion, the reverence for the Divine Flame of Asha. It all felt so vivid, so real.

And then she saw him. A prince. A boy who had lost everything—his family, his home, his sense of security. The memories swirled, showing them meeting in the grand Imperial court. Both young, both burdened with unimaginable loss. They found solace in each other's presence, their shared grief binding them together. The prince had his empire and his duty to uphold a shattered kingdom. And Inastasia had her priestesshood, her charge to maintain balance.

Their love was a force of nature, fierce and consuming. Sam felt it in her chest—an overwhelming heat that threatened to swallow her whole. It was a love that defied time and reason, a love that burned brighter than any star. It wasn't hers, not truly, and yet it felt as though it could have been.

"This isn't real," she thought, struggling to break free from the onslaught of emotion. Before Sam could process the overwhelming flood of memories and the strange pull she felt toward her doppelganger, a resonant chime filled the air. It wasn't a sound that came from any physical source, but rather something deeper—a vibration that seemed to emanate from the very core of her being.

In the depths of her consciousness, the familiar interface of the Gaea spell system began to shimmer. Its once subtle runic lines expanded, intricate glyphs and ancient symbols spiraling out from the central node. The glow of the interface intensified, casting soft, golden light across the dim chamber. The air around Sam grew warmer, as though the energy of the system itself was breathing new life into the room.

[Gaea Spell System: Unlocking Divine Parameters]

The announcement resonated not only in her mind but also within her soul. She felt a shift, as though a long-sealed door had swung open, and with it, a rush of knowledge poured in. The interface began to evolve, its previously neat and orderly menus now sprawling into vast trees of potential. Charts of intricate spells and arts she had never seen before unfolded, revealing possibilities that were both awe-inspiring and daunting.

[Gaea System's True Nature Unveiled: Divine Grade Capabilities Restored]

The words settled heavily into her thoughts. A Divine grade system? Sam hadn't realized how far beyond the norm this spell system truly was. It had been there since her awakening, helping her navigate the treacherous waters of cultivation, but now it stood fully revealed. This was no ordinary tool, no mere convenience—it was a relic of staggering power, and with it came responsibility. She understood, without needing to be told, that she was not the first to wield it. And if the memories that had just flooded her mind were any indication, it had been waiting for someone like her all along.

[Parameters Expanded: Crucible Trial Activated]

The final announcement seemed to ripple through her. She could almost see it in her mind's eye: a vision of a crystalline chamber suspended in a vast, starry void. The Crucible was a trial that would test her very essence, pushing her abilities to their absolute limits. Success would mean earning the Crown of Stars, an artifact whose power could reshape entire worlds.

But the vision didn't stop there. The interface projected the trial's stakes into her mind. The Crown of Stars was no mere object; it was a fragment of the divine. It held the balance of celestial energy, the power to unify the fractured laws of the universe. Failing to secure it would leave that power vulnerable—to be misused, corrupted, or lost forever.

Sam clenched her fists. The Gaea spell system's voice might have been calm and unfeeling, but she could feel the weight of its purpose. The Crucible awaited, and if she was to face it, she'd need every ounce of strength, every skill she had learned, and every shred of courage she could muster.

As the room's once-turbulent energy subsided, Sam found herself sitting on the floor, her breath shallow, her mind spinning. The rush of knowledge, the storm of memories—both hers and not hers—had left her disoriented. She pressed her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes in an attempt to steady herself.

"Sam!" Henry's voice broke through her haze. She opened her eyes to see him running toward her, his expression anxious. He dropped to his knees beside her. "Are you okay? What just happened?"

"I'm fine," Sam said softly, though her voice wavered. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze for too long. She glanced up and caught sight of her doppelganger—Ina—standing a few feet away, seemingly unshaken. Sam noted how Ina's appearance seemed untarnished, her green hair immaculate, her features calm and composed. It was as if the turbulence Sam had just endured hadn't touched her at all. Yet Sam knew that wasn't true. She knew Ina had also absorbed the flood of memories—memories from Sam's life. There was no way she could remain unaffected, no matter how poised she looked.

"Where's your look-alike?" Trini's voice came from behind Henry. Sam turned and saw Trini and Callum standing at a cautious distance, their eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to step out from the shadows. "What happened to her?"

Henry's gaze followed Trini's line of sight. He frowned and stood up, scanning the room. "Yeah… where did she go?" He looked back down at Sam, concerned. "You're sure you're okay?"

Sam's confusion deepened. She pointed toward Ina, who stood in plain sight just a few feet away. "What are you talking about? She's right there."

Trini and Henry exchanged uneasy glances. "Sam…" Henry's voice was careful now, as if she were fragile. "There's no one there."

"What?" Sam looked back at Ina, who met her gaze calmly but offered no explanation. "No, she's right—"

"Don't bother," Ina's voice interrupted, not aloud, but in Sam's mind. "They can't see me. The fragment of my soul that remained here is gone now."

Sam stiffened. Her lips parted, but no words came. She answered silently, as if instinctively knowing she could respond in kind. "What do you mean gone?"

Ina's voice was serene, as though she had already made peace with the truth. "That fragment—the piece of me that was left behind—is part of you now, where it belongs. We're not separate anymore. My essence has merged with yours."

Sam swallowed, trying to process the revelation. "I don't understand. How can you be here if—"

"I'm not here," Ina said gently. "Not in the way they perceive reality. You've taken my place, my role, in this imprint of the past. What they knew as Inastasia Vysileaf has passed on. You remain to fulfill what was started, to bring balance back as the Asha'Yee."

Sam's pulse quickened. "You knew," she said, her thoughts sharp with realization. "You knew this wasn't real—this whole place, this time—it's just a… a memory."

"A construct," Ina confirmed. "A simulation of a moment that no longer exists. But that doesn't make your presence here any less real. You carry what I once was. You have inherited not only the memories but the responsibilities, the essence. You were always meant to find your way back."

Sam felt the weight of the words settle on her chest. This isn't my life, she thought, but even as she tried to push back, a part of her knew it was futile. The truth resonated through her being. This was Ina's life, but Ina is gone. The woman she had been trying to understand, to confront, was no more than an echo—an echo that had now faded, leaving Sam as the sole bearer of that name and all it entailed.

She let out a slow breath, meeting Ina's eyes one last time. "What now?" she asked.

Ina smiled faintly. "Now, you fulfill your purpose. Complete the trial. Bring balance back to Terra."

And then, just like that, the presence of her doppelganger seemed to dissipate. The others were still watching her, puzzled and uneasy, but they said nothing. Sam rose to her feet, her gaze steady, though her mind was anything but. She clenched her hands into fists, silently resolving that, whatever lay ahead, she would see it through.