Coliseum – Outer Ring, Portal ChambersThe walls pulsed with faint light. One by one, groups of students stepped out from the underground waiting chambers — passing beneath archways carved into stone, lit with glowing threads, into a wide marble ring that surrounded the central portal altar.
Dozens of portals stood waiting.
Some flickered quietly. Others sparked, wild and unstable.
Each one led into the Living Labyrinth of Sythrael.
But none of them led to the same place.
Some would land near the safer end with less traps, someone could land right into traps.
Others?
Left in the far outer zones — where the maze looped into dead ends and could just keep on waking forever.
Random. Unfair. Intentional.
The announcer's voice boomed overhead:
"Portals randomize every fifteen seconds! Watch your step, choose your fate! Step in when your name is called!"
From the stands, the crowd leaned in — eager, loud, watching the platform closely.
Then just under ten minutes—
By now, dozens of groups had already entered.
Portals flashed every few moments, swallowing students whole before pulsing shut again like breathing glass.
The stadium's energy was rising with each wave — murmurs giving way to full roars, cheers breaking out when familiar names vanished into the unknown.
"That was Group Forty-Nine! Kael'mair's top three — they went straight for Portal Twelve!"
"I saw one kid trip on the platform and still made it in before it closed!"
"Velrenmar's already sent in five groups — the announcer said the maze reshuffles after every set!"
Each portal activation painted the ground with quicksilver glow.
Each disappearance tightened the anticipation.
From above, a Northcrest observer jotted notes beside a list of academy names.
"A lot of early risks," he muttered. "Some of these kids won't even survive the first hour."
Maedra Ruusk watched calmly from her seat, boots up on the edge of her rail.
"Good," she said. "Let the eager and weak ones bleed first. I only want to see those who can do good."
From the west stands, someone shouted:
"WHERE'S LIO? HE HASN'T GONE YET!"
"MILO TOO! Did they miss their call?"
But then—
A soft chime.
A flicker of light by the gate platform.
A new group stepped out of the rightmost chamber.
And the murmurs began.
"Wait… is that—?"
Lio Fen.
Velrenmar's golden boy. Ranked #1. Calm eyes, light step, coat trailing behind like a banner.
Right beside him—
Milo Rhask.
Rank #10. Yellow shirt. Flip-flops. Straw in his mouth and a grin that dared anyone to take him seriously.
"He brought a drink."
"Did he enchant the straw?"
"Is he trolling the tournament?"
But then—
A third figure stepped out behind them.
And the murmurs sharpened.
"Who… is that?"
He limped slightly. Not enough to slow the group — just enough to notice.
But his eye—
That silver eye—
Reflected the light like steel catching moonlight. Deep. Real.
"Is that an enchantment?"
"That's his real eye?"
"Wait… he wasn't in the first trial."
From a few seats down, a scholar adjusted his monocle.
"Isn't that Lio and Milo?"
"Who's the third one? He's injured."
"Is he their assistant?"
A girl at the railing whispered to herself.
"I don't know who he is… but he just looked up."
And sure enough, Seren lifted his head — not to the crowd, not to the noise — just to the portals ahead. Light from the platform caught the edge of his face. His silver eye shimmered faintly under his hood.
The announcer called out:
"Seren Vael. Lio Fen. Milo Rhask. Group Seventy-Three! Portal Six!"
They moved as one.
Milo walked first, waving his drink like a toast.
Lio followed, silent and steady.
And behind them, Seren stepped into the flickering portal.
The light surged—
And they were gone.
Velrenmar Coliseum – Central Arena
The final ripple of portal light folded inward — like a deep breath drawn and held.
And then… silence.
No more students.
No more names.
The arena that had been a storm of footsteps and flashing gates was now quiet — like the eye of a cyclone, wide and waiting.
Then came the sound.
A low, resonating hum.
The stone floor trembled slightly as soft blue light ran like veins across the inner ring. The glowing marks turned gold, then something deeper — a color that felt impossible to name.
The stadium wasn't done.
It was waking up.
Four massive crystal towers rose from hidden slots at the corners of the central ring. The sky above shimmered — like someone had thrown a pebble into a starlit lake.
And then—
A floating disc drifted down from above, as smooth as silk, with not a single rune out of place. On top stood the announcer — scarf flaring, coat rippling as if caught in wind only he could feel.
He grinned like a man about to flip the world over.
"Velrenmar… are you ready?"
The crowd roared.
Some stood. Some raised both hands. Some just leaned forward like they were about to fall off the edge of history.
"I told you," the announcer said, arms wide,
"the first trial was just the surface."
And then — it began.
The arena transformed.
Massive illusion screens burst to life on all four cardinal sides — each glowing with magic so clear it felt realer than real.
On one: Rynn Elthis, forming glowing shields as her group crept through the fog.
On another: Vexan, blade mid-swing, carving through a tree-beast with a grin wide enough to unsettle the dead.
A third showed Milo Rhask, somehow tripping over a vine, narrowly dodging a spike trap, and sipping from his drink — all in one smooth motion.
But the fourth screen?
The announcer spun once atop his floating disc, coat flaring, voice booming like thunder stitched with joy.
"Oh — and for those not lucky enough to be here in Velrenmar…"
He turned slightly, eyes flicking toward one of the hovering scry-cameras — addressing not just the crowd, but the entire world watching through glowing screens and Narrowcast Obelisks scattered across every city, palace, tavern, and fortress.
"Yes, you too can witness the madness."
"But…" he held up a finger, smirking,
"you don't get to choose what you see."
Laughter rumbled from the stands.
The announcer's grin widened.
"Across the continent, every broadcast tower is linked to the Mirrorshard Nexus. But the only thing they show is… whatever's the most watched, most intense, or most beloved here."
He gestured toward the roaring crowd.
"That's right — you watching from oceans away? You're seeing the top-voted, top-rated, top-screamed-about moment from this very coliseum. You may not pick… but oh, you feel it."
In cities and villages across the land, crystal-viewing obelisks lit up — all showing the same scene:
Irissa Kael and Nerea Vaun, seconds from battle displaying in fourth screen.
It was the one that froze the crowd.
Irissa Kael, known throughout world as prodigy, Cold as ever. Standing in a narrow corridor of thorns.
And right across from her — Nerea Vaun, who made it to leaderboard in Velranmar. Her stance low, eyes locked with Irissa's like neither of them had blinked in ten seconds.
Two top-ranked students.
Two different academies.
Meeting this early?
The crowd didn't react all at once.
There was a beat.
A silent second where breath caught, words froze — and then—
The stadium exploded.
"IRISSA!"
"NEREA! LET'S GO!"
"HOW DID THEY MEET ALREADY?!"
Faction Leaders' Gallery – Obsidian Deck
Far above the crowd, where even the cheering couldn't reach — the Faction Leaders watched in silence.
Their private viewing deck was something else entirely.
Hidden behind veiled crystal, filled with whisper-screens and floating glass panels, they had access to everything.
Dozens of streams at once.
More detailed than any VIP, yes VIP also got access to private screens to scouts candidate.
Even heartbeat. Registered information about participants and Projected outcome charts.
And above all, their eyes were sharp.
Deyric Karr of Ledgerhall leaned back with a smirk, sipping a pale gold drink from a crystal glass that flickered in time with one of the scry-feeds.
He looked… proud, after all this as done with help on Ledger hall.
"All this?" he said, voice smooth and amused,
"Took five years of negotiations, two ruined prototypes, and one rogue engineer with a god complex. Worth it."
Kieran Duskvale didn't speak. Just watched. Eyes unblinking.
But his feed had shifted — showing both Kael and Nerea from above, with movement tracking runes already forming around their feet.
Maedra Ruusk chuckled.
"Can't wait to see who cracks first."
From other leaders, No reply.
Only the quiet hum of deeper analysis.
Because up here — they were not for entertainment.
They studied proper candidates to choose from.
Somewhere within the Labyrinth — Seren POV
Far from the cheers, far from the lights and illusions above,
a boy limped down a corridor of breathing stone.
There were no roars here.
No chants.
Only quiet.
There was no sky.
Where there had been sun outside, now — only night.
A swirling, false darkness stretched far above, pinched at the top like a dome, utterly void of stars. But at its center, floating somewhere high above it all — a single distant light hovered.
Too high to reach.
Too bright to be real.
Like a moon reflected in water you weren't sure existed.
Seren narrowed his eyes.
A sound flickered behind him.
He turned—
There had been a path there. He was sure of it. A sloped walkway behind a broken tree trunk. Stone laid flat. A direction.
Gone now.
Not vanished. Not hidden.
Just… unwritten.
The wall behind him was seamless. As if the path had never existed.
Seren took one slow step backward, watching the moss beneath his boots shift slightly — as if it was correcting itself.
"…No wonder they call this place one of the Seven Wonders."
He didn't sound impressed.
He sounded annoyed.
Like the maze had just dared him to get lost.
And the sound of his own steps, echoing against walls that seemed to shift when he wasn't looking.
He had been walking for over an hour now. Maybe more.
No traps.
No puzzles.
No monsters.
Just the same winding paths — curving, looping — and the false night sky above, painted over what used to be day.
At some point, he passed beneath a broken arch.
And that's when he noticed it.
A floating crystal — pale and weightless, drifting just above the ground like a curious bird.
He reached out and touched it.
"Score: 0," a soft voice chimed.
Seren blinked.
Was it… recording him?
His gaze lifted toward the dark sky.
And the realization hit,
They're watching us.
But no signs.
No clues.
No paths forward.
At some point, Seren stopped checking behind him. If the walls wanted to change again, they would. Watching wouldn't stop it.
Just walking.
Until—
Voices.
Up ahead. Echoing faintly from around a bend. Two of them — one light and quick, the other deeper, steady. Not hiding. Not sneaking.
He followed the sound.
And turned the corner.
They spotted him first.
A tall boy leaned against the wall, twirling a coin between his fingers. Light armor, silver trim. The kind worn by Ravennor Academy — flame-in-mirror emblem glinting faintly on his sleeve.
Beside him, a girl knelt with a glowing map tablet, half-tucked into her sash. Pale scarf. Spiral-star insignia on her belt. Sellestrian Veil — one of the more mysterious academies.
They tensed.
She stood quickly.
"Whoa—hey! You alright?"
"You're limping," the boy added, more curious than worried.
"Did you run into something?"
Seren said nothing at first.
"You sure you're not lost, friend? Maze this big… wouldn't blame you if you were."
His gaze shifted toward their shoulders — floating crystals hovered above both of them.
A soft flicker. A flash of text.
Score: 4 | Viewers: 2
Two viewers watching both of them.
Not from the crowd.
Someone's watching them privately.
"Who's watching you?" Seren asked.
The girl frowned, confused. "Huh? You can see that?"
"Your crystal," he said. "You've got two viewers. That's not the public stream, is it?"
The boy chuckled, relaxing slightly. "Yeah… weird, right? May be the faction heads. Nah probably not, maybe some other VIPs watching through private access."
"Like we're animals in a tank," the girl muttered. "Guess that's the point."
"Anyway, you sure you're not lost, friend? Maze this big… wouldn't blame you if you were."
Seren took another step forward.
Still limping. Still calm.
"Do you know where we are?"
The girl held up her tablet, a device she brought. Anyone was allowed to carry any kind of things after verification, if they can actually find something useful. In the tablet, the map redrew itself as she moved — shifting lines, new corners.
No north. No center. So it was also useless here.
"Nowhere useful," she said. "This place… reshapes."
Seren looked between them again.
Friendly faces. Too friendly.
"So how'd you get four points?" he asked.
The boy smiled thinly. "We've met a few people. Some weren't lucky."
"And the viewers?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe someone likes our style."
Seren's expression didn't change and said.
"Maybe someone likes bloodsport."
There was a pause.
Then—
click
The coin stopped spinning. The boy caught it in his palm.
The girl's hand shifted slightly.
Not an attack yet.
Not yet.
But close.
"You're sharp," the girl said.
"We really weren't expecting to meet anyone like you this deep in. Honestly… you okay to keep walking? If you want I can give you rest."the boy added.
But yet somehow he still felt a bit dangerous, probably because of his eye colour?
Seren turned.
"I'm not here for a fight."
He took two steps past them.
"But if you are not—"
"We are."
The boy moved first.
A sharp metallic hum — he threw something. A disc-shaped blade, spinning fast.
Seren raised one hand.
Snapped his wrist.
The air twisted.
The blade spun midflight — slammed sideways into the wall and shattered with a crack.
The girl followed instantly, hands glowing purple-blue. Spell chains snapped into place, racing toward him.
Seren didn't flinch.
Instead, he pivoted, pressed down with one foot—
Momentum. Redirection. Return.
The spell bent in the air and coiled back toward her foot
She stumbled, falling backwards with a gasp.
The boy lunged — this time with a short blade.
But Seren moved first.
His bad arm anchored the motion. He twisted his hip, stepped in close, grabbed the attacker's wrist—
—and slammed him flat on the stone.
One move.
Not just magic. Just force.
They lay there, groaning.
Not unconscious. Not bleeding out.
Just beaten.
"You're injured," the girl said, breathless. "How the hell… how are you even moving like that?"
"You saw a weakness. I saw bait."
Seren's silver eye reflected the floating crystal.
It pulsed.
He looked down at their bracelets — the emergency recall. Only usable once.
The boy reached for his.
Seren stepped forward, grabbed it instead, turned the band inward—
Pressed.
In a flash of compressed light and air, both of them vanished.
"hmm, so escape was not the only reason they gave the bracelet? Was is to eliminate others?"
They were Gone before they could even properly use there abilities.
A second later, his crystal beeped again.
Score: 2 | Viewers: 2
Observation Deck – Private Feeds
"Who let that one in? Look at him. That's not survival instinct. That's precision."
"Did you see the delay before he moved? He waited for the strike. Let them believe they had him. Then broke rhythm. He didn't hesitate for them to fight back and pressed the button"
"no.. that's not just precision." he leans closer
"That's experience."
One of the VIPs with them leaned forward, fingers tapping against the edge of a floating crystal screen.
Then a quiet sip of tea.
"...Interesting."
BACK IN MAZE
"…Great," Seren muttered.
No clue where he was.
No idea where to go.
But his score had gone up.
Which meant someone out there just got a better look.
He turned, breathing slowly.
The ache in his ribs had almost left.
A little bit pain in his knee and thus was limping
But he didn't stumble.
Didn't falter.
Silverquill's healers — compensation for the Moonfen incident — had done their job
Pain lingered a bit, but the worst had passed.
And so, despite the cracks, despite the quiet burning in every joint—
Seren Vael had already recovered.