Ryatt’s POVThe arena floor was a mixture of packed dirt and dried gore that crunched under my boots. Opposite me, Boros 'The Crusher' looked less like a man and more like a wall of meat encased in rusted iron. He stood at least seven feet tall, his biceps the size of my torso."Is this a joke?" Boros roared, his voice booming off the stadium walls. He turned to the crowded stands, spreading his arms wide. "Did the organizers run out of warriors? They sent me a sickly little rat! Look at him! I can see his ribs through that shirt!"The crowd erupted in jeering laughter. I kept my posture slumped, my breathing shallow, playing the part of the dying man they expected to see."You're making a lot of noise for someone who hasn't swung yet," I said, my voice intentionally thin.Boros stepped forward, the ground literally trembling under his weight. He looked down at me, a cruel, jagged grin splitting his bearded face. "Noise? Boy, I’m going to make you scream so loud the 'High Gods' will c

Ryatt’s povThe recovery wing felt less like a sanctuary and more like a slaughterhouse waiting for the next shift. As I walked through the lounge toward the designated living quarters, the atmosphere shifted from tense to hostile. The other winners didn’t just look at me; they dissected me with their eyes."Look at that one," a woman with a notched claymore muttered, loud enough for me to hear. "The sick man who shouldn't have breathed past the first round. How does a walking corpse kill Boros?""He looks like he’s about to faint now," a man beside her laughed, though his hand stayed white-knuckled on his holster. "Weird little rat."I ignored them, my boots heavy on the stone floor. I just needed to reach the room the tournament organizers had assigned me. My muscles were screaming, the rush of Boros’s cores finally settling into an exhausted ache. I reached the hallway leading to the private cells, but a shadow stepped out from a recessed doorway, blocking my path.He was a tall ma

Ryatt’s povThe two remaining figures stood frozen, their golden masks reflecting my own glowing hands. The air between us hummed with a frequency that made my teeth ache. Delgrad, the one who had struck me, lowered his hand slowly, his featureless face tilting in a gesture of pure, stunned disbelief."This is... impossible," Akalai whispered, his voice vibrating like a discordant bell. "The energy should have disassembled his cellular structure. Why is he standing?"Fron, who had flickered back into existence a few yards behind them, raised a shimmering hand in a gesture of caution. "I told you to cease this! Look at him. He is not absorbing the light; he is rewriting it. If we leave now, Delgrad, there will be no further harm. We can report the anomaly and exit this iteration."I tightened my grip on my dagger, the weapon now pulsing with the same white light that had failed to kill me. "I don't have any instructions from the system to kill you," I said, my voice sounding deeper, st

Ryatt’s POV The laser sights burned like tiny, malevolent stars against my chest. I could feel the heat of twenty rifles aimed at my heart, my throat, my forehead. The sergeant’s finger was white-knuckled against the trigger guard."Don't be a hero, Ryatt," the sergeant shouted over the howling wind. "We’ve got orders. You’re coming with us, one way or another."What do I do? I thought, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. System? Give me something. A path, a skill, a percentage. Anything.I waited for the translucent red text to flicker into my vision. I waited for the cold, calculating logic of the interface to tell me my odds of survival if I charged them. If I used Shadow Leap, I could probably take out the first five. But then what? The rest would open fire. I’d be forced to butcher every single one of them just to breathe another minute.The system remained silent. No notifications. No tactical advice. Just the hollow whistling of the wind from the rift behin

Ryatt’s POV The old man lay curled in the dirt, a shivering heap of rags and regret. My chest burned, the internal cracks in my core pulsing with a dull, rhythmic agony that made every breath a gamble. The red system warnings were still screaming in my vision, a strobe light of panic.[DORMANT CORE DETECTED. EXTRACT IMMEDIATELY. SURVIVAL PROBABILITY IS 0.04%.]"It’s lying to you, boy," the old man whispered, his eyes wide and watery. "The system... it just wants to jump to a new host if you fail. It wants my essence to patch your holes so you can be a better meal for the gods later. Don't do it. Don't lose your soul to the machine."I looked at the stone shard in my hand, then at his trembling, skeletal frame. My throat felt like it was filled with glass. "You’ve been down here for years. You’re suffering.""Every second is a haunting," he wheezed. "But I’m still a man. Please. Don't let the system win."I closed my eyes for a second, feeling the stuttering heat in my own chest. The