Seth stood motionless in the center of the room. At first glance, he still appeared human, but the vibrant, defiant energy he once carried had been extinguished. His skin was pale, and his eyes had taken on a flat, hollow hue—like clouded glass that reflected nothing.

His clothes were tattered, and his entire body was slick with a layer of dark, drying blood that wasn't entirely his own. Most unsettling was the center of his chest. The jagged crystal Langdon had produced earlier was now embedded deep into Seth's sternum. It throbbed with a sickly, rhythmic light, though it was now partially obscured by a strange, translucent layer of organic growth that looked like a mixture of scar tissue and crystalline scales.

Langdon paced around him, his boots clicking on the blood-stained floor. He wore a satisfied, almost manic grin as he inspected his handiwork.

"I honestly thought it wouldn't work..." Langdon whispered, his voice echoing in the silence. He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from the pulsating growth on Seth's chest. "I guess I was worried for no reason. The host is stable, and the core is integrating perfectly."

Seth didn't blink. He didn't even seem to breathe. He stood like a statue, a hollow vessel waiting for a command.

"So far, the crystal isn't showing any signs of rejection or structural decay," Langdon said to himself, his chest swelling with pride. "He's stronger than he was before—faster, colder. Once I set him loose, he'll be a great menace."

Langdon leaned in close to Seth's ear, his shadow stretching long across the wall. "Do you remember Akhil, Seth? Do you remember your 'friend'?"

Seth's finger twitched almost imperceptibly, the only sign of life in his vacant frame.

Langdon let out a sharp, dark laugh that filled the room. "Don't worry. You'll see him soon enough. And when you do, I'm sure you'll praise him just like you always do." Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he walked towards the second specimen in the room.

In the opposite corner of the dimly lit room, tucked away in the shadows, sat the abducted orc. Unlike Seth's vacant, robotic state, the orc was jarringly alert.

His breathing was heavy, a rhythmic growl that vibrated in the small space, and his eyes—now glowing with a faint, malevolent light—followed Langdon's every move.

His transformation was different. While Seth was a masterpiece of cold, mechanical integration, the orc was a conduit of raw, mutated power. His naturally green skin had deepened to a bruised, mossy black, and jagged obsidian-like markings snaked across his torso, pulsing as if they were veins.

In the center of his chest, the red crystal beat like a second heart, casting a rhythmic, crimson glow against the damp walls.

Langdon stepped away from Seth and paused in front of this bound titan. He didn't see a prisoner; he saw a weapon of mass destruction.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" Langdon mused, his voice smooth and cold. "Most would have lost their minds to the corruption by now. But you... you're holding on. That rage will make you a far more effective tool."

The orc let out a low, guttural snarl, the chains rattling against his massive frame, but he couldn't break the seal of the crystal.

Langdon ignored the threat, pulling up his system interface. The holographic blue light reflected off his glasses as he checked the remaining time for the King Selection test.

{Time Remaining: 53:14:02}

A dark, sharp smile cut across Langdon's face. He looked out the small, grime-covered window toward the distant silhouettes of the Dark Mountains, where the true trial was unfolding.

"In just a few hours... it'll be too late for them," Langdon whispered to the empty room. "Let's see if Nexus will be able to beat the scenario this time. I've rewritten the ending, and I don't think they'll like the twist."

------

Akhil and Layla stood side by side, staring at Marcus and his group.

The air on the mountain ridge grew heavy with the scent of ozone and the metallic tang of blood. Marcus stood behind his remaining Level 3 guards, his arms crossed, projecting the image of a man who had already won. To him, Akhil and Layla were just high-level outliers who needed to be put in their place by the rightful authorities.

There was no way they would be able to win against his entire team... Or so he thought.

"I'm giving you a chance to walk away, you should use it while you have the chance" Marcus sneered, his fingers twitching as he prepared to re-assert his {Puppeteer} threads over his men for a final charge.

"Walk away? And leave someone like you with the emblem? That would be very foolish of me" Akhil stared back at him as though he was looking at a clown. He had seen so many people like Marcus that just his presence alone now annoyed him.

"You little brat! You better take back your words... Or I'll make you regret it!" Marcus roared, eyes wide with rage.

Akhil didn't respond with words. The frustration of the King's Selection, the worry for Seth, and the realization of Langdon's betrayal coalesced into a cold, singular focus. He didn't have time for a tactical skirmish. He didn't have time for Marcus's ego.

"Layla," Akhil said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Stay back."

Before she could even nod, Akhil vanished.

He didn't just move; he exploded into motion. Using a burst of energy to propel himself, he appeared in the center of the mercenary formation. The Level 3 guards, seasoned veterans of a dozen skirmishes, didn't even have time to raise their weapons.

[500 Blood Essence used!]

Akhil slammed his palms together. The blood barrier he had used for defense didn't just drop; it liquefied and expanded outward like a blooming flower of death. Sharp, needle-like shards of crystallized blood sprayed in a 360-degree arc.

The sound was sickening—a chorus of armor piercing and flesh tearing. The Level 1 and 2 mutants were swept away instantly, their bodies riddled with holes.

The Level 3 elites fared little better; one of them stepped forward, creating a large energy shield... But it shattered under the sheer density of Akhil's blood projectile.

Layla watched from the sidelines, her hand frozen on Fang's collar. Her eyes widened as she watched Akhil move.

He danced through their numbers, his hands weaving crimson ribbons that decapitated or disarmed with clinical precision.

'Is this the power of a Level 5?' Layla thought, a cold shiver running down her spine. 'And this blood ability... was it an option in the game? His abilities are crazy' She felt a sudden, profound wave of relief that she had chosen to talk instead of fight when they first met.

Against this, her speed wouldn't have mattered.

In less than three minutes, the ridge was silent. Thirty mercenaries and adventurers—the pride of Marcus's hijacked force—lay incapacitated or dead in the snow.

Marcus, seeing his entire world dismantled in seconds, felt his smug grin melt into a mask of pure, unadulterated terror. The "adult" in the room was suddenly very, very small.

As Akhil turned his glowing red eyes toward him, Marcus lips shock, "Y-you're a monster!" He stuttered, the sight he had witnessed was simply unbelievable.

One man took down several gamers in just a few minutes, even though he had a higher level... It should've been difficult. But Akhil didn't show any signs of difficulty when tearing through their formation.

With his eyes wide in shock.

Marcus did the only thing his cowardice allowed.

He threw a high-grade flash-bang and a smoke canister at his own feet.

BOOM.

"He's running!" Layla shouted, stepping forward through the settling red mist.

Akhil stared into the thick white smoke. His heat vision picked up a faint, retreating trail, but it was heading into the thicker fog of the higher slopes. He checked the system clock.

{52 Hours Remaining}.

"Let him go," Akhil said, his breathing barely elevated. "He's lost his puppets. He's nothing but a coward in a suit now. We have to reach the peak before the gate seals."

Layla nodded, though she looked back at the carnage one last time. "You're... really something, Nexus."

"I'm already at level 2 advanced. Gathering a bunch of basic level adventurers won't be enough to deal with me. Besides, those guys clearly weren't controlling themselves.. their movements were sloppy," Akhil replied grimly. He signaled for her to follow, and the two of them, accompanied by the silent black wolf, began moving towards the last trial.

High above them, hidden behind a jagged obsidian crag, Marcus pressed his back against the cold stone, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His leather suit was torn, and his hands were shaking so violently he could barely hold his silenced pistol.

He looked down at the ridge where his men lay like discarded toys. The fear was there, yes, but beneath it, a toxic, stubborn pride began to fester. He had spent his life controlling others; he couldn't accept being the one controlled by fear.

'You think it's over?' Marcus thought, his eyes narrowing as he watched the two figures disappear into the upper mist. 'I don't need an army to take a crown. I just need to be there when you're exhausted.'

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