Onslaught of Darkness

Before I could even process what was happening, the hulking figure was already on me, its talon-like claws aiming to cut through my neck, slicing the air with a breeze of haze in its wake. I tried to dodge, but the heavy snow blanketing the expanse restricted my movement. My limbs felt sluggish, every muscle straining, yet I barely managed to roll away, its paw only a hair’s breadth from my face.
The bear’s presence loomed over me, but my body moved almost on its own, muscle memory guiding my next action. Without thinking, I twisted sharply, tensed my legs, and leapt into the air, shifting my weight. Using the pull of gravity, I brought my leg down in a curved arc, aiming a harsh kick at the back of the bear’s head.
The strike should have left the creature dazed, or so I believed. Yet, before I could even land on my feet, the bear sprang toward me, rearing up on its hind legs and crashing its hulking body into mine. It was like being struck by a runaway truck. I was flung through the air, tossed like a rag doll, soaring helplessly before finally crashing onto the ground. The snow below cushioned my fall only slightly, and the force of the impact sent my bones rattling under the strain. I could feel blood rush to my head, vision pulsing at the edges.
Fuck, I gotta move. No way can I take on that monstrosity head-on.
Knowing my time was limited, I forced myself to ignore the pain that shot through my body, the lightheadedness that made everything spin, and pushed myself upright. My legs wobbled beneath me, but I managed to get to my feet, shaking, and tried to run.
Each step was heavy, my feet sinking into the snow. It felt like running through mud, every stride deliberate and slow, the cold biting through my boots. I didn’t dare look back, convinced that even a split second of hesitation could mean my death.
But as I ran, something caught my attention; the snow beneath me was changing. I saw it slowly turning black, like a spreading ink stain, pitch darkness creeping outward in every direction.
Fuck me! Not again.
Memories of last time flashed through my mind: the ground turning dark, spears jutting up from beneath. Instinct screamed at me to move. I leaped to my left, launching myself free from the growing patch of darkness. The moment my feet left the area, my suspicions were confirmed. Tendrils erupted from the pitch-black snow, writhing and swirling in the cold air. Yet, instead of spikes, this time something even more unnerving emerged.
Chains. Pure black, lustrous chains, glinting coldly. Before I could react, one lashed around my left wrist, its touch icy enough to freeze the blood in my veins. I struggled and tried to keep running, but the chain yanked me backwards with brutal force, nearly dislocating my shoulder as I tumbled onto the frigid, dark ground. More chains followed, one snaking around my right leg, another around my right hand, each tightening until I was hoisted up, suspended in the air.
Dangling helplessly, I tried to twist free. My vision cleared just enough to see the bear in the distance, but now, its once white, spiky fur was completely jet black, darkness seeping from its form.
That bastard. It was using the darkness. It was the source.
The bear began to walk toward me, saliva trailing from the gaps between its canines, each step slow and measured, radiating menace. As it drew closer, dread clenched my chest. My heart rammed against my ribs, fear finally gaining a stranglehold on my senses. My breath quickened, each inhale shallow and ragged. I tried to fight the chains, twisting and pulling, but every effort only made them tighten further, biting into my wrists and ankles, drawing blood with their freezing grip.
Fuck, fuck… not again, not like this, please…
The bear was right in front of me now. Its face hovered before mine, twisted into a snarl that seemed almost like a sadistic grin, as if it was enjoying the misery etched on my face. With a deep growl, it opened its maw, snapping its head forward. The last thing I saw was the cavernous mouth looming over me, sharp teeth blotting out my vision, before everything dissolved into inky blackness.
***
I crashed to the cold black floor, the sensation of déjà vu slamming into me. My hands trembled uncontrollably, clutching at my head, half-expecting to find it missing. But it was still there. My vision blurred from the fear that still lingered, the memory of the bear’s bite as vivid as the pain in my chest.
W-what the hell is this trial… What does it even want from me? Does it expect me to keep dying, over and over? Even by the brutal standards of Elysandra, taking on that bear was a challenge for the Shaped, the tier 3 Ascended. I wasn’t even tier 1. From this body’s memories, I knew the soul forge trials were always difficult, designed to push you to the edge, but never impossible. But this? This felt insurmountable. Fighting against darkness itself, what kind of challenge was that?
Before I could gather my thoughts, that now-familiar feeling swept through me. It was like a death sentence, a chill crawling up my spine.
Jesus… Give me a break at least.
The black walls around me shifted, but this time, instead of opening out into an expanse, they closed in, drawing tighter until I was boxed in. Colour and detail bled into the space as the darkness transformed, morphing into the walls of a luxurious study. The surroundings became clearer: wooden panels lined the walls, topped with rich carpeting, and a white, ornate ceiling hovered above, a crystal chandelier at its centre filling the room with golden light. I stood beside a large wooden table, its surface buried under a clutter of objects, thick-spined books, faded sheets of parchment, quills, ink bottles, scrolls, and paperweights. In front of me was a tall-backed chair cushioned in deep red velvet. All around, bookshelves crowded the walls, thousands of volumes pressed together, stretching up to the ceiling.
To my right was a window, its curtains drawn, but outside there was nothing, just endless, impenetrable blackness.
As I tried to take in every detail, I heard a faint rustling. I barely blinked, and in that split second, a figure materialised in the corner near the now-open window, a chill breeze drifting into the room.
The figure looked human at first glance, cloaked in a flowing pitch-black robe with a deep hood concealing its face. But beneath the hood, instead of features, there was only emptiness, a void that seemed to swallow the light. Its arms were hidden in the robe’s long sleeves, but I caught the faint glint of something sharp at the edge, blades or claws, maybe. The mere sight of this figure made it clear that it was powerful, easily more so than the bear that had killed me before. Its presence pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating, making me forget to breathe for a moment.
Slowly, the reality of my situation dawned. This thing was here to kill me, just like the two times before. Maybe, I thought, if I could survive just once, the trial would end. Maybe that was the answer.
The figure’s eyes were hidden in the darkness beneath the hood, but I could feel its attention fixed on me, waiting, watching for any movement. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a gilded knife lying on the desk, the blade catching the chandelier’s golden light.
That was my chance.
I steadied my nerves. In a single burst, I lunged for the knife. Instantly, the robed figure shot forward, the black fabric of its cloak swirling around it. Its arm slashed out, a blade barely visible under its sleeve. Time seemed to slow. I managed to grab the knife and swing it up, deflecting its attack just enough, though the blade still sliced my cheek, drawing blood. I leapt back, putting distance between us.
The figure paused, the void beneath its hood locked on me. My chest rose and fell, breath coming in sharp bursts, the cold metal of the knife trembling in my grip. My cheek burned, the wound fresh and stinging. The figure waited, not moving, as darkness began to swirl and gather around it, tendrils seeping from the edges of its robe, writhing in the air.
Another darkness user. Great.
I brought the blade up, settling into a fighting stance. Then I felt it, a sudden pulse of energy swept through my body, draining my strength. My knees buckled; I collapsed, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.
It hit me then. I reached for my cheek, touching the wound. My fingers came away wet and cold. Looking at them, instead of blood, I saw a thick, purple substance, putrid, almost burning where it touched my skin.
Poison. Goddamn bastard.
Each second, it became harder to breathe. My vision swam, limbs going limp, refusing to obey as the figure walked toward me, slow and deliberate. It stopped in front of me, the void where its face should be peering down, mocking me in my weakness. It stretched out an arm, and from nowhere, a black, obsidian-like scythe materialised into its grip.
Fucking ba-
With a clean, fluid sweep, the figure decapitated me. I glimpsed my headless body collapsing to the floor, and then everything went black.
I thought the trial would end after that. Maybe I only needed to keep my sanity through these deaths. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. What followed was a blur of repeated deaths, each one more brutal and relentless than the last. I was tossed endlessly against the cold, merciless grip of darkness. Every time I thought maybe this was the last, I’d find myself back in the same black hall, not even given enough time to adjust to the phantom pain before the scenery changed again.
Once, I was in a swamp, mud sucking at my legs, making it impossible to move. Without warning, something yanked my foot, dragging me down as the cold embrace of the earth covered my body. Darkness crept in, latching to my arms, eyes, and mouth, digging into my skin as it pulled me deeper. Mud filled my mouth and nose; I tried to scream but only ended up choking on the filth as I suffocated.
Another time, I found myself in a dense rainforest, trees stretching endlessly in every direction. Out of nowhere, the darkness attacked, vine-like tendrils wrapping around me, puncturing my skin from dozens of angles. The black, living vines absorbed my blood, feeding on my flesh, spreading through my body until all that remained was a twisted, infested shell.
There was a time I was on a ship, surrounded by endless ocean, only to see massive tendrils of darkness rise from the water, wrapping around the hull. The ship splintered and sank, and I was pulled beneath the waves, darkness dragging me down and drowning me in the icy depths.
Another time, a creature made entirely of writhing, sinewy tentacles came for me, grabbing me from both sides and pulling, stretching until I was torn apart, the agony beyond anything I’d ever felt.
I lost track of time. I had no idea how long it had been, how many cycles of death I’d endured. At some point, even pain faded, replaced by a numb, hollow kind of resignation, yet every time I retaliated, even if slightly. The approach of each new death felt inevitable. I knew that if this continued, I’d be broken beyond repair, or maybe I already was. After dying dozens of times in such brutality, who could possibly hold on to their sanity? One such death would be enough to break most people, but this onslaught was endless.
Eventually, I decided to accept it. The end was coming; I’d already lost. All I could do now was die a few more times, let my soul be consumed entirely, and hope the trial would finally end. That’s why, in the next cycle, I made up my mind.
I would accept it. I would accept death.

Chapter end