Trial by Prana

A stillness, so profound it felt unnatural, seized the metallic forest. The air, thick with the scent of ionized minerals and dampened prana, trembled under the weight of what was to come. Above, twin moons cast a pale glow through the skeletal canopy of metalwood trees, their serrated leaves whispering in anticipation.

Kal stood frozen, his breath shallow, his muscles trembling—not from fear, but from exhaustion. The carcasses of ten Brigorises lay sprawled around him, their biomechanical hides still steaming from his strikes. He had fought with everything: strength, speed, vengeance. And yet, as his chest heaved and his limbs screamed, a shadow loomed over him.

Enter the King

A shadow vast as the night itself.

The King Brigoris.

Before Kal could react, a sonic boom shattered the stillness. Art moved—no, teleported—from the treetop and wrenched Kal from his spot with such speed the world blurred. Just as he did, the King Brigoris's titanic paw crashed down, obliterating the earth where Kal had stood. A shockwave erupted, sending molten fragments of rock and metallic soil flying in every direction.

Kal's vision caught up a moment later. He was meters away now, in Art's iron grip, his feet barely touching the ground. His uncle had moved him in the blink of an eye.

"Stay back," Art commanded, his voice like tempered steel. "I'll handle this."

Kal wrenched himself free, planting his feet firmly into the metalwood roots beneath. His heart pounded against his ribs, his prana still thrumming with the aftermath of battle.

"No," he said. "I can fight."

A Warrior's Defiance

Art's gaze locked onto his, his golden eyes narrowing. "That's a King Brigoris, Kal. They're erratic even on their best days. And you just killed its entire pack."

A pause.

Then Art made a face—half exasperation, half amusement.

Kal matched it with one of his own. "Yeah… probably should've thought that through."

The King Brigoris let out a seismic roar, shaking the very marrow of their bones. It was larger than the rest—easily twice their height, its hide a living fortress of midnight plates and luminous crimson veins. Steam vented from its snout as its four burning eyes locked onto Kal with a singular, violent promise: death.

Battle Pact

Art turned back to Kal. "You're not going anywhere near that thing."

Kal's jaw clenched. Without thinking, he grabbed Art's arm. "Uncle Art, I'm ready for this."

Silence. The weight of the words settled between them.

Art exhaled through his nose. "Fine. But remember the promise you made to your sister."

Kal's fingers tightened. Sini's face flashed in his mind. His promise. His duty. His reason for pushing himself beyond the limits of pain and exhaustion.

"I remember," he said.

Across the forest, in the penthouse, Karina sneezed violently.

"Aaaahhhh noooooo," she groaned, recoiling from Roqs like she was a plague victim. "You stay away from me, miss sickness."

Roqs, unbothered, looking through a glyphbook. "I feel fine. Someone must be talking about you."

Back in the metallic forest, Kal and Art faced the King Brigoris. The air between them burned, thick with unspoken resolve. The creature bared its fangs, molten drool sizzling against the scorched ground.

"Alright," Art said, rolling his shoulders. "Next thing—you have to promise me you won't hold me back."

Kal grinned, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "You make that same promise to me."

A fist bump. A battle pact sealed.

And then, chaos.

The Clash of Titans

The King Brigoris lunged with the force of a meteor. Kal and Art shot in opposite directions, moving like twin comets. Art struck first, a streak of canary lightning as he skated along the battlefield, his prana leaving scorched trails in his wake. His hands blurred—one moment open, the next fists of destruction—each strike landing with seismic impact.

The beast anticipated the attack this time. Instead of staggering, it pivoted—far faster than anything its size should be able to—and swung a backhanded claw straight into Art's ribs. The impact sent Art flying, smashing through a grove of metalwood trees before he tumbled and skidded to a halt, coughing up blood.

Kal's eyes widened. "Uncle—"

The Brigoris didn't give him time to check. It lunged at Kal, its jaw snapping like a collapsing sun. Kal barely rolled aside, feeling the furnace-hot breath as it grazed his back. He spun, throwing out a strike—Distant Tusk!—a spear of prana erupting from his palm. It struck the Brigoris in the side, but this time, the beast barely flinched.

A Warrior's Pain

The King Brigoris retaliated. It twisted its body mid-air, a counterattack that came faster than Kal expected. A spiked tail slammed into his torso like a wrecking ball, sending him tumbling across the metallic terrain. His lungs burned. He forced himself up, only to see the Brigoris charging again.

Kal had seconds to react. He summoned prana into his legs and shot upward, narrowly avoiding a fatal bite. He twisted mid-air, aiming a concussive punch toward the beast's skull.

The Brigoris saw it coming.

It reared back, then surged forward at the last moment, intercepting Kal's attack with its forehead. The sheer force sent a jolt through Kal's entire body, numbing his arms.

Then, it lashed out with a clawed paw.

Kal crossed his arms to block—but the impact sent him plummeting to the ground. He crashed, leaving a crater beneath him.

Pain. Real, undeniable pain throbbed through his bones. His breaths came ragged. The King Brigoris loomed over him, its burning eyes filled with something worse than rage—certainty. It had won battles before. It would win this one too.

A streak of light.

Art reappeared behind the Brigoris, slamming both hands onto its back. Avid Surge! The prana explosion sent a ripple of force through the air, knocking the beast forward. It snarled, whipping around, but Art was already gone, reappearing beside Kal and hauling him up.

The Final Stand

"You good?" Art asked, blood dripping from his lip.

Kal spat, wiping dirt from his face. "Define 'good.'"

Art grinned despite himself. "Alright, let's end this."

Kal nodded. No more holding back. He planted his feet, sucked in a breath, and channeled everything—every memory, every loss, every ounce of fury—into one final strike.

The ground beneath him shattered as he launched upward, fist cocked back.

Sky-Sunderer!

His punch connected with the Brigoris's jaw, sending a shockwave rippling through its entire body. Time seemed to freeze. For a single, breathless moment, the King Brigoris was weightless. Then, with a deafening crash, it collapsed, sending tremors across the forest floor.

Silence.

Kal landed hard, skidding to a stop. His arms felt like lead. His breath came in ragged gasps. Across from him, Art exhaled, rolling out his shoulders.

Victory & Shadows

"Well," Art said. "That was… dramatic."

Kal let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah. Kinda felt like it needed to be."

Art clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well done. Not everyone can say their first mission was a success."

Kal tried to answer, but his exhaustion had other plans. He dropped onto his back, staring at the twin moons overhead.

"I'll give you your share of the vails once I clear it with command," Art added, stretching.

At the mention of money, Kal perked up, his eyes glinting. "Vails? Oh yeah, I like the sound of that."

Art chuckled, shaking his head. "And to think, just moments ago, you were fighting for honor and revenge."

Kal shrugged. "A warrior can have multiple motivations."

Above them, high in the treetops, a shadow shifted. A figure lingered, watching. Just as Kal and Art turned to leave, the presence vanished, melting into the night. Art noticed—but said nothing.

"Come on," Art said, slinging an arm around Kal's shoulders. "Let's go home. Roqs and Kar should be done with their training by now."

Kal's stomach growled. Art's did the same.

They exchanged a glance.

"I bet there's food waiting for us," Art said, his voice suddenly reverent.

Kal wiped the sweat from his brow, nodding. "The best news I've heard all day."

As the two walked off, their faces morphed into identical expressions of comedic, exaggerated drooling.

Behind them, the metalwood trees whispered their secrets, and the twin moons bore silent witness to the battle that had been fought—and the ones still yet to come.