Silence.
That was the first thing Kian noticed. Not the chaos of the vortex. Not Adelaide's voice screaming after him. Just silence—profound and suffocating.
Then the pain hit.
A burning sensation ripped through his veins like liquid fire. His lungs refused to work. His limbs trembled as if something inside him was rebelling against itself. The darkness around him pulsed, alive with energy. He wanted to scream, but the air was too thick, too heavy.
Kian collapsed to his knees. The stone beneath him was cold and slick, like obsidian soaked in blood. He was inside a vast chamber lit by an eerie green glow. The air reeked of decay and ancient magic.
He wasn't alone.
All around the chamber were stone statues—warriors frozen mid-battle, mages clutching grimoires, beasts snarling mid-pounce. Their expressions weren't stoic—they were terrified.
A cold realization twisted in Kian's gut.
They weren't statues.
They were people. Trapped. Preserved. Killed.
He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. I have to get out of here.
As he turned toward what looked like an exit—an arched hallway framed by runes—he heard it. A whisper. Not in his ears, but in his mind.
"You were not chosen."
"You were claimed."
Kian froze. "Who's there?"
No answer. Only the sound of his own heartbeat and the drip of water echoing from somewhere deeper in the dungeon. Then the whisper returned—closer, clearer.
"You were meant to die, Kian Ansel."
He clenched his fists. "Then why didn't I?"
A pause. Then, almost like approval:
"Because you didn't beg."
Suddenly, the statues cracked.
One after another, fissures ran through the petrified remains as dust poured from their mouths like escaping souls. The magic holding them crumbled, and a low hum began to rise from the stone beneath him.
A system notification appeared—floating before Kian in glowing blue light:
[DUNGEON OF SOULS - INITIATING SOUL TRIAL]
Unawakened Detected. Compatibility: 1.3%
Status: Non-Ascendant
Access to Trial: Granted
WARNING: Mortality Rate – 99.98%
Kian's stomach twisted. "This is a mistake... I shouldn't be here."
But even as fear gripped him, a new message appeared.
Would you like to begin the Trial of Broken Fate?
→ Yes
→ No
He hesitated. Every instinct screamed to say no. To wait. To survive. But what would survival even mean now? Crawling back to the real world as a failure again?
He thought of Adelaide, of the people who looked down on him. Of the way the world ignored the unawakened.
"No more," Kian whispered.
He reached out.
→ Yes.
The dungeon shook violently.
The statues shattered entirely now, dust flooding the air. The green glow intensified as the runes along the walls flared to life. In the center of the room, a circle opened—pulsing with black fire.
Kian stepped into it.
The world blinked.
When he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.
A black void stretched infinitely in all directions. A stone platform beneath him was the only solid ground. Before him stood a figure—tall, robed in cloth darker than shadow, face hidden behind an obsidian mask.
"Who are you?" Kian asked, his voice oddly calm.
"I am the Warden of Fate," the figure said. "And you are a glitch—an unawakened who survived what should have killed you."
"Then send me back. Or finish it."
The Warden tilted his head. "You misunderstand. Fate is not a chain. It is a test. And now, you must prove yours is worthy of rewriting."
The Warden raised a hand, and six ghostly figures appeared around Kian—clones of himself, each one slightly twisted. One was covered in blood. Another radiated confidence. A third trembled in fear. Others wore smugness, rage, silence.
"Six versions of who you could become," the Warden said. "Only one will survive."
Before Kian could move, the copies lunged at him.
The first attack came from behind—a fist crashing into Kian's ribs. He stumbled, gritting his teeth as the Rage-Clone roared in his face.
They're faster… stronger...
Kian ducked as another version—Silent-Kian—moved like a shadow, a blade flashing past his neck.
He couldn't match them physically.
But I'm not here because I'm strong.
Dodging another attack, Kian slid low and grabbed the leg of the Fear-Clone, pulling it down and smashing its head into the stone. The clone flickered, then dissolved into dust.
One down.
Blood-Kian shrieked and rushed him, flailing wildly with knives. Kian took a deep breath. Use their emotions against them.
He sidestepped the wild swings and slammed his elbow into the clone's jaw. Another gone.
Two more.
The confident version moved like a trained warrior. But it underestimated him, just like everyone always did. Kian played weak—baited a high strike—then swept the legs and crushed its windpipe with a well-placed stomp.
Dust.
The last two came at him together: Silent-Kian and Smug-Kian.
He ducked under a blade, rolled, and grabbed the fallen dagger. With one precise movement, he flung it into Smug-Kian's chest. Dust.
He turned just in time to block a final blow from Silent-Kian. They stared at each other. Same face. Same eyes. But Silent-Kian looked... resolved.
They fought silently—two shadows clashing under invisible moonlight.
And then—an opening.
Kian drove his fist into the clone's throat. It crumbled.
He was alone.
The Warden approached slowly, hands folded.
"You have chosen a path few dare walk, Kian Ansel. You faced yourself—and survived."
"I didn't survive," Kian rasped, falling to one knee. "I killed who I was."
A pause. The Warden raised his hand.
Trial Complete.
Title Earned: The Breaker of Fate
Class Unlocked: Soulbound Ascendant
Your awakening begins now.
A burning light engulfed Kian's chest. It wasn't pain this time—it was power. His body crackled with energy. A new force pulsed in his heart, spreading through every limb, every nerve. His skin shimmered faintly with soulfire.
He was no longer unawakened.
He was something else entirely.
Something new.
To Be Continued…