RECKONING’S TRAIL

The guardian moved with deadly precision, adapting to their attacks as if it had fought them a thousand times before. Its glaive shimmered with golden energy, the sheer force of its swings tearing through the air like a storm given form.

Kieran groaned as he pushed himself up from the cold stone floor. His body ached from the impact, but he forced his mind to focus. His visions swirled, flickering between possibilities—none of them favorable. If they kept fighting like this, they wouldn't last.

Elara landed beside him, shifting back to her human form mid-motion. Sweat dripped down her forehead, her breath coming fast. "This thing learns," she panted. "It's adjusting to our attacks."

Rebel's golden cloak billowed as he skidded back from another near-miss, his fingers tightening around the artifact in his grip. "It's not just adjusting. It's judging us," he said grimly. "It's testing whether we deserve to survive."

The guardian lunged again.

Kieran's mind snapped into clarity just in time to see the moment unfold—a flicker of the future, a glimpse of what could be.

"Elara, get behind it!" he shouted. "Rebel, hit the left side of its mask—now!"

Neither hesitated.

Elara transformed in midair, her body twisting into the form of a massive hawk. She shot upward, dodging the arc of the glaive just as it struck the stone where she had been standing. Rebel didn't waste a second—he extended his free hand, a burst of golden energy lashing out like a whip.

The attack struck true. The left side of the guardian's mask cracked, golden fractures running through it like lightning veins. The guardian staggered for the first time.

That was their chance.

Elara dove, shifting mid-fall, her claws extended. She slammed into the guardian's back, forcing it forward. Rebel launched another attack, his golden energy seeping into the cracks of its mask.

Kieran saw the final step.

He surged forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs. His visions told him where to strike. He reached into his belt and grabbed a shard of obsidian—one of the fragments from the ruined temple. It hummed with energy.

With one last push, he drove it directly into the cracked mask.

For a moment, time stopped.

The guardian froze. Its golden veins pulsed wildly, erratically, like a star collapsing in on itself. Then, with a deafening roar, its body shattered. The energy holding it together dispersed into the air, golden dust swirling like dying embers.

The ruins fell silent.

Kieran panted, hands on his knees. "Tell me… that was the last trial."

The ancient entity's voice echoed through the space.

"You have proven your resolve. But the cycle is not yet restored."

The world around them shifted again. The pillars of the temple glowed brighter, the mist surrounding them growing heavier. The Reckoning was far from over.

And something worse was waiting in the shadows.

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