Echoes Of The Hidden Gate

The ruins trembled as if the very fabric of Natuka was unraveling. The ancient entity before them—its body shifting between twisting roots and glowing crystal—had spoken its challenge.

**"Then prove it."**

A pulse of energy surged outward from the entity's form, and in an instant, the world **shifted**.

The sky darkened, the deep purples and golds of Natuka's twilight fading into an abyss of swirling mist. The ruins, once jagged and broken, were whole again—but they were no longer the same. Towering obsidian pillars stretched into the sky, veins of golden energy running through them like molten rivers. The air was heavy, charged with magic so ancient that even the vines, once mischievous and untamed, slithered back into the shadows.

Elara dug her claws into the smooth stone beneath her feet, the remnants of her last shift still lingering in the sharpness of her gaze. "What just happened?"

Kieran exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as visions of possible futures flooded his mind. He saw them running. Fighting. Falling. And something else—something **watching**.

Rebel, standing at the edge of the newly formed structure, remained unnervingly still. His golden cloak billowed as he turned to face the entity. "You're forcing us into a trial, aren't you?" His voice was even, but there was a tension there, a recognition.

The entity's many-layered voice echoed through the space.

**"The balance must be restored. Only those who understand the Reckoning may determine the fate of the cycle."**

Elara crossed her arms. "Right. And let me guess—this 'Reckoning' is some kind of impossible test?"

The entity's eyes burned brighter.

**"Not impossible. But not all will survive."**

Before any of them could react, the ground beneath them shifted again. The obsidian pillars groaned, their golden veins pulsing erratically. A deep chasm yawned open at the far end of the platform, and from its depths, **something emerged**.

A **guardian**, unlike anything they had seen before.

It stood at least ten feet tall, its body composed of living stone and enchanted metal, its face obscured by an intricate mask adorned with ancient symbols. Its limbs, armored with plates of what looked like star-forged silver, moved with unsettling grace. In one hand, it held a **massive glaive**, its blade shimmering with crackling energy.

It was not just a test. It was an executioner.

**And it had already decided they were unworthy.**

#### **The Trial Begins**

The guardian **moved**—not with the slow, lumbering gait of a golem, but with **purposeful speed**. In a blink, it was upon them, its glaive slicing through the air with enough force to cut through stone.

Elara reacted first. She lunged sideways, shifting mid-movement into a sleek, shadow-coated panther, her instincts sharper than thought. She barely avoided the blade as it struck the ground, sending a wave of golden energy rippling outward.

Kieran stumbled back, his mind flooded with overlapping visions—paths of survival, outcomes of failure. He saw **one** chance, and he took it.

"Elara, left flank!" he shouted. "Rebel, it has a weak point—right knee joint!"

Elara didn't hesitate. She sprinted toward the guardian's side, her claws extending as she leapt. Rebel, gripping the artifact tightly, flicked his wrist. A pulse of golden light surged from his fingertips, striking at the guardian's exposed joint.

The impact sent cracks spiraling up the guardian's leg, but it didn't falter. Instead, it **countered**.

With terrifying precision, it twisted its glaive, redirecting the momentum of Rebel's attack and sending a shockwave through the air. Elara barely managed to leap over it, but Kieran was caught in the blast.

Pain erupted through his body as he was thrown backward, his back slamming against the unyielding stone. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus. **Think, Kieran. See the path.**

The guardian was fast. **Too fast.** They wouldn't be able to

— —

**To be continued **