The Alphas Reincarnation Stats of a Wolf

The Cost of Progress

The air in the new corridor was heavy, saturated with a sense of expectation. The darkness wasn't passive anymore; it pressed against them like a living thing, coiling around their limbs and minds. Each step felt like defiance, as though they were walking deeper into the jaws of something vast and unrelenting.

The box in Zephyr's hands had grown warm. It thrummed with an energy that matched his heartbeat, its weight shifting subtly as though it were responding to the Citadel itself. He tried to ignore it, but the sensation crawled beneath his skin.

Behind him, Ryu stretched his shoulders, his golden eyes darting to every flicker of movement in the shadows. His usual confidence was still there, but it was tempered now, sharpened into something colder.

"I'm guessing the next trial isn't going to be easier," Ryu muttered, his claws flexing.

"It never is," Kierra said, her voice flat. She walked with her daggers drawn, the sharp edges glinting faintly in the dim light. Her movements were precise, economical—like a predator waiting to strike.

Zephyr stayed silent. His focus was ahead, where the corridor began to widen into another chamber. The walls were carved with jagged runes again, but these were different—deeper, more erratic, as though the Citadel itself had etched them in haste.

When they entered the chamber, the change in atmosphere was immediate.

It was smaller than the last room, but the air here felt heavier, more suffocating. The center of the space was dominated by a massive pedestal, atop which sat a single blade.

The weapon was black, its surface smooth and reflective like obsidian. It radiated a cold, hungry energy, as though it were alive. Surrounding the pedestal was a circle of faintly glowing runes, their light pulsing in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"A weapon?" Ryu asked, stepping closer.

"Not just any weapon," Kierra said, her voice tight. "Look at the runes. That thing's bound to the Citadel."

Zephyr approached cautiously. The closer he got to the blade, the louder the hum from the box in his hands became, as though the two objects were communicating. He set the box down near the edge of the rune circle, watching as its energy pulsed in sync with the blade's aura.

"It's a catalyst," Zephyr said, the realization settling heavily in his chest. "The Citadel isn't just testing us—it's shaping us. This blade is part of that process."

Ryu frowned, crossing his arms. "Shaping us how?"

Zephyr hesitated. The answer was clear, but saying it felt like giving the Citadel too much power. "Through sacrifice."

As if in response to his words, the runes around the pedestal flared brighter. The room grew colder, and a voice—low, guttural, and ancient—whispered through the air.

"Claim the blade. Prove your worth."

The voice wasn't loud, but it resonated in their bones, carrying an undeniable weight.

"And what happens if we don't?" Kierra asked, her tone sharp.

The voice didn't answer, but the walls began to tremble, and the shadows thickened, coiling along the edges of the chamber like waiting predators.

Zephyr stepped forward, his hand reaching for the blade.

"Wait!" Kierra snapped, grabbing his arm. "You don't know what it'll do."

"We don't have a choice," Zephyr said, meeting her gaze. "The Citadel isn't giving us an alternative."

Kierra's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue. She released his arm, her grip lingering for a moment before she stepped back.

Zephyr turned back to the pedestal, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The blade's energy was overwhelming now, pressing against his mind like a tidal wave. He took a breath, then reached out and grasped the hilt.

The world exploded.

A torrent of cold fire surged through him, tearing through his body and mind. He felt as though he were being unmade, his very essence laid bare and reshaped by the blade's power. Images flashed before his eyes—visions of battles fought in darkness, of towering figures wreathed in shadow, of a hunger that could never be sated.

And then, just as suddenly, it was over.

Zephyr stumbled back, the blade still clutched in his hand. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling from the strain. The pedestal was gone, as were the runes. The chamber was silent now, save for the faint hum of the blade in his grip.

"What… happened?" Ryu asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Zephyr looked down at the weapon. It felt heavier than it should, its energy pulsing faintly in rhythm with his own.

"It's bound to me," he said, his voice hoarse. "The Citadel wasn't just testing us—it was choosing me."

Kierra's eyes narrowed. "Choosing you for what?"

Zephyr didn't answer. He didn't have one. All he knew was that the blade had changed him, its power now a part of him.

The shadows at the edges of the chamber began to recede, retreating into the walls. A new doorway opened ahead, leading deeper into the Citadel.

Ryu let out a low growl, his claws flexing. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Kierra said, her tone icy.

Zephyr didn't respond. He stepped forward, the blade in hand, and walked toward the next trial.

The Citadel wasn't done with them.

And now, it wasn't just testing them.

It was watching.