trial of the fifth week
Chapter 16 – Trial of the Fifth Week
The moon stood still, like the world dared not exhale.
Lucian's breath fogged the cold windowpane. He still hadn't moved since the Rift incident. His reflection was there, but not quite him. His body throbbed from residual energy—the Enlightened Grip tickled under his skin, while Warrior's Eye painted outlines across his vision. Fragmented Will pulsed faintly like a forgotten heartbeat.
Then the Book snapped open on his desk. No warning. No whisper. Just a cold rush of wind.
A vortex of pages and black ink erupted around him.
> "Trial required. Progress must be earned."
Lucian didn't even get to groan before the Book swallowed him whole.
---
Pocket Dimension - Arena of Reflection
The space materialized into a crystalline dome, floor made of shattered mirrors, reflecting infinite versions of Lucian.
The Booked hovered above, its pages burning with red-gold script.
> "You rely on your Weeks like crutches. That ends now."
Lucian rolled his eyes. "You dragged me here for a lecture? You're literally a talking book. Don't pretend to be a life coach."
> "Correction: I am The Booked, gatekeeper of your truths. You will learn to walk without leaning."
Chains of black light lashed out, searing across Lucian's chest. He grunted as sigils branded themselves into his arms.
Week of Sorrow – Sealed.
Week of Devastation – Sealed.
Week of Ruin – Sealed.
Week of Rebirth – Sealed.
Only one glimmer remained. Flickering. Untamed.
Week of Unity.
Lucian staggered. "You're insane. That's my least stable Week. I barely understand it."
> "Exactly. You will master the storm or be broken by it."
Then the floor cracked open beneath him.
---
Crescent Hill – Midnight
Lucian landed hard on shattered stone, ancient arena ruins glowing beneath the moonlight. Weeds whispered in the wind.
Across from him stood a figure.
It was him.
But wrong.
His Shadow Self. Cold. Silent. Skin black as obsidian, eyes glowing white with hatred. A mirror without mercy.
> "You wear our name, but you don't deserve it."
Lucian clenched his fists. "Can we skip the melodrama? I've had enough cryptic dialogue for one night."
But the shadow lunged.
The battle began.
---
A Fight Without Firepower
Lucian dodged the first strike. Barely. His instincts screamed, but he lacked the speed he was used to.
No Devastation to amplify his strikes.
No Sorrow to blind the soul.
No Ruin to disrupt space.
No Rebirth to mend.
All gone.
The Warrior's Eye let him survive—barely. But the shadow was ruthless. It fought with knowledge of every weakness Lucian refused to admit.
Every time he struck, he was countered. Every breath he took, punished.
He was bloodied. Bent. Knees to stone.
> "You are nothing without your crutches," the shadow spat. "Power borrowed is not power earned."
Lucian chuckled bitterly, wiping blood from his mouth. "Guess I better earn it, then."
---
Fifth Week – Unity Unleashed
Lucian closed his eyes.
He remembered Neo's laughter. Riv sleeping on the butler's lap. The smell of old books. The silence of loss.
Unity wasn't about perfection. It was about togetherness.
He stood.
Chains of blue and gold spiraled from his back. Not to bind—but to connect.
He didn't fight the shadow.
He welcomed it.
The chain linked to his Shadow Self. The mirror roared, clawing at its face as cracks ran across its obsidian skin.
Lucian charged, channeling everything he was.
A punch to the heart.
A scream from his soul.
A blast of memory, resolve, failure, and love.
The shadow shattered.
And light filled the arena.
---
Victory. And Her Arrival.
Lucian collapsed, chest heaving, eyes wide.
The Booked floated downward.
> "Trial complete. Fifth Week acknowledged."
Lucian coughed. "That all? Gonna give me a sticker?"
A ripple in the air. A portal.
> "Reward: Chosen of Lust and Loyalty. Servant from the Underworld."
A figure emerged from the shimmering gate.
She was... breathtaking.
A succubus, curved and dangerous. Her skin shimmered like liquid dusk, her hair a cascade of deep crimson, flowing like flame. Horns twisted from her forehead elegantly, and wings curled behind her like velvet blades. She wore nothing but golden runes that traced across her hips, her collarbones, her thighs.
Eyes like burning rubies stared at him. Smirking.
> "Well, well... you're cuter than I expected."
Lucian blinked. "Wh—Where are your clothes?"
She walked forward, hips swaying like a hypnotic beat.
> "Modesty's for mortals, sweetheart. I'm Vel'Zaria. Bound to you now. Body, magic, and... well, we'll see about heart."
Lucian backed up. "I need an adult."
> "You are the adult."
She leaned in. Her breath warm against his neck.
> "Unless you'd prefer to be the little spoon, Master."
Lucian shrieked internally.
> "This is worse than the fight."
---
Lucian's Resilience
Despite her teasing, Lucian didn't waver. Not fully.
She pushed. He held firm.
Even as her power leaked into the ground—wilting plants, cracking stone—he stood tall.
> "You're not just beauty," he said. "You're dangerous."
Vel'Zaria smiled, sharp teeth gleaming. "That's why I'm yours."
---
Outside the Arena
The moon pulsed overhead.
A second page turned in the Booked.
> "Tower access unlocked. Floor One cleared. Prepare."
Lucian looked at Vel'Zaria, who was now lounging on a summoned throne made of obsidian pillows.
> "Can you fight?"
She winked. "Can I play with my food?"
Lucian sighed. "I miss my old problems."
But something inside him had shifted.
He hadn't just survived. He had earned it.
And as the stars shimmered and the Tower loomed in the distance, he knew...
The real trial had just begun.
---
End of Chapter 16