Below the flesh sea, the palace endured its slow destruction.
The Ravager hovered before it, vast beyond scale, its body a grotesque mass of swollen flesh and layered muscle. Five enormous tentacles unfurled from its core, each one ending in a face grown directly from meat. These faces were not identical some stretched long and thin, others wide and bloated but all shared the same fixed hunger. Lidless eyes stared unblinking at the palace, and mouths split open just wide enough to release power.
They attacked together.
Water struck first, not as a wave but as a crushing force, compact and violent. It slammed into the palace walls and spread outward, pressure rippling through the structure. Mist followed immediately, thick and clinging, slipping into seams and cracks like smoke poured into a sealed room. Wind came next, screaming as it ground against stone and mirror, tearing at edges already weakened. Ice formed in jagged layers, freezing fractures wider with each impact, the cold biting deep into the material. Last came erosion—quiet, relentless, stripping away substance without spectacle, turning strength into softness.
All five elements layered over one another.
At first, nothing changed.
The palace held.
Ancient runes buried deep within its walls pulsed faintly, redirecting force, reflecting portions of the assault away. The structure groaned, not loudly, but with a deep vibration that traveled through every corridor and chamber. It was the sound of something old resisting something endless.
The Ravager's faces twisted.
Annoyance flickered through its bulk, then impatience. Its mouths widened, power increasing as more energy poured into the assault. Flesh along its body pulsed, veins thickening as corruption surged through it.
Cracks appeared.
They were subtle at first—thin lines tracing along walls and pillars, so fine they could be mistaken for imperfections. But they did not stop. They spread, branching outward, linking together. Each strike widened them further.
The Ravager felt it.
Satisfaction rolled through its massive form.
This place was food.
Not simple sustenance, but rich nourishment. The palace was saturated with refined power, old and concentrated. There was corruption here too, faint but present, woven into the trial itself. A rare meal. Enough to thicken its core. Enough to push it closer to another evolution.
It peeled pieces of itself away.
From its main body, clusters of flesh detached and reshaped, breaking down into thousands of smaller flesh-fish. They surged forward in swarms, squeezing through fractures and openings. Where gaps were too small, their bodies softened and thinned, slipping through spaces no solid thing should fit.
The bombardment intensified.
This time, the palace began to lose.
Chunks tore free from its structure—walls, arches, fragments of mirrored stone. They did not fall downward.
They fell upward.
Pieces drifted toward the mirrored boundary above, smashing into it from below. Each impact fractured the mirror sky further, cracks spreading like veins across glass. Some fragments passed through entirely, vanishing into the reflected world beyond.
If Kai had seen it, he would not have been shocked.
He had already learned this place did not obey direction.
Above the flesh sea was the shattered mirror sky. Beyond that, a floating palace of pure reflection—vast, luminous, unreal. It reflected something, or perhaps produced the light itself. Kai had never been sure. Below the flesh sea, hidden beneath another mirrored layer, was this palace—the real one. Stone. Weight. Substance.
And now it was breaking.
As more fragments tore free, flesh surged upward to fill the voids. The sea itself seemed to pour back into the Ravager, streams of meat flowing into its core. Its bulk swelled. Two of its tentacles thickened rapidly, muscles knotting beneath slick skin.
The Ravager grew restless.
Its prey was moving.
Far inside the palace, Kai ran.
His boots struck the mirrored stone in uneven rhythm, each step echoing strangely as if the corridor extended farther than it should. His breathing burned in his chest, lungs scraping raw air that tasted faintly metallic. In his left hand, he carried the compressed cube. Inside it, the mirror altar vibrated faintly, its presence tugging at the wristbands wrapped around his arms. The chains shifted and tightened as if pulled toward something deeper within the palace.
Behind him, the guardian pursued.
It did not rush.
It did not need to.
The guardian's movements were smooth, precise, each step closing distance without effort. Water-veins glowed brighter beneath its mirrored surface, reflections bending slightly as if the space around it adjusted to accommodate its advance. Every time Kai glanced back, the gap felt shorter than it should have been.
"Of course," Kai muttered, voice hoarse. "Why would anything here stay politely behind me?"
The corridor ahead shuddered.
Cracks spread along the walls, thin glowing lines that darkened as they widened. From within them, flesh began to push through. It crept along the stone like rot, pulsing gently. Veins formed. Half-formed faces surfaced, eyes blinking once before sinking back into the mass.
The palace was being eaten.
Kai pushed harder.
The air felt wrong—thick, resistant, as if each step met invisible pressure. His energy reserves were thinning fast, control slipping at the edges. Every movement sent dull pain through his legs. His grip on the cube tightened, knuckles whitening.
Then the floor ahead exploded.
Stone and mirror shattered upward as two massive tentacles burst through. They were thicker than tree trunks, their surfaces layered with slick flesh. Faces lined their lengths, eyes snapping open in unison as they focused on Kai.
Their mouths opened.
Corruption condensed instantly.
Ice formed around one tentacle, frost spreading across the air itself, freezing moisture mid-breath. Water gathered around the other, dense and heavy, pressure building with a low, crushing hum.
Kai skidded to a halt.
"Right," he said between breaths, raising his dagger as heat flared along its edge. "Guess the straight path was too much to ask for."
Behind him, the guardian closed in.
Ahead of him, the Ravager's tentacles prepared to strike.
The corridor trembled.
The palace continued to fall upward piece by piece, collapsing around him as the trial pressed in from every side.