The message was clear:
"Meet me at the Silver wall entrance."
Roberts didn't leave any additional details. Not even a time. And internally, I knew specifying one would've been pointless anyway—the Nexo didn't operate by those rules.
I dropped onto the stiff, cardboard-like bed.
My newest decorative purchase materialized on the wall: an ornate clock surrounded by three angels. Time held no real value in this world, but I needed to know when a day passed.
Axio had assured me it followed the same time flow as my world.
Counting the seconds, I confirmed it.
I shot up.
I stripped off my shirt and pants, left in nothing but boxers—like in so many martial arts series I used to watch.
It had been a while since I looked at myself in a mirror.
My reddish-brown hair had grown nearly halfway down my back. My muscles, still lean, were far more defined now. My thighs were toned. My abdomen flat and firm.
In life, I never would've had this physique.
It was entirely the Nexo's doing.
And to test it—
—10:10… good.
One. Two. Three.
Push-up after push-up.
Time passed, but my body didn't tire.
When I reached one hundred without stopping, I realized how pointless it was.
But I kept going.
Sit-ups.
Planks.
My body appeared to strain—I could see sweat dripping—but I felt no burn. No fatigue. No soreness.
I was as fresh as when I began.
"If exercise had felt this relaxing in real life, I might've actually looked like this."
Movement.
Sometimes I wondered why prisoners exercised so much. Or why the cruelest punishment was isolation without recreation.
Now I understood.
Exercise calms you.
Centers you.
Before I knew it, I was lying flat—not from exhaustion, but satisfaction.
11:15.
The smell was exactly what you'd expect from a sweating man.
And somehow, that made me feel human again.
—I'm ready.
Axio appeared almost instantly in a cluster of bubbles before me.
—Very well, Sir Tristan —he said with his usual acidic tone—. Shall I inform the clown pirate that you're ready?
—I'd appreciate it, Axio.
—Good. I expect a worthy spectacle. You wouldn't want to disappoint Irax.
I stared at him until he sighed.
—Fine. He's the duel overseer of the Nexo. You've already met him.
The memory resurfaced.
That towering shadow.
A massive black-and-red axolotl with six arms and a pipe as large as a person.
Impossible to forget.
—If you earn his favor, he can make your climb easier… or impossible. He's the most important administrator here. Just below "Them."
—I understand. I'll take a quick bath.
—Why? A nobody will always stink, no matter how clean he gets.
—Ah. There you are again, you little parasite.
Axio stuck out his tongue and vanished.
I didn't waste time.
A quick soak in the eternally warm, spotless tub was more relaxing than I expected. The water still felt foreign. The warmth barely perceptible.
But this time I could clearly smell cinnamon and lavender.
It calmed me instantly.
When I looked up, I saw it.
Mounted on the wall in a glass case provided by the system.
Fjölkaldra.
Since our exchange, the dragon within hadn't contacted me again. But I knew he was there.
Watching.
Judging.
—Frost… in the Pit… I'll earn your respect.
The axe glowed faintly in response.
Above me, Axio reappeared—now wearing a tiny shower cap.
—Well —he muttered, floating lazily in the steam—. The pirate's on his way. I told him you'd arrive in one… what did they call it? When the skinny hand goes around?
—A minute?
—That. I told him ten turns. So you'd better hurry.
—Perfect.
I dressed fully.
My formal suit—now a deep navy, nearly black. New fitted shoes. A garter strap to hold Gobann's silver knife. And on my back—a sheath built for my axe.
When I slid Fjölkaldra into place, it fit perfectly.
—On my way, Axio.
—Don't die in the first round. That wouldn't be entertaining.
…
As promised, Roberts was already waiting by the Silver wall.
His outfit was casual today. No flamboyant pirate attire. No feathered hat. Just a pink cap, a multicolored shirt, tight black pants, and sunglasses—which he lowered when he saw me.
—Well look at you. Nothing like when I saved you from drowning.
—Maybe you should get yourself an axe if you want to look more masculine, Bartholomew.
A beautiful blonde girl with blue eyes stepped forward, her emerald-green dress flowing elegantly. A refined purple stole rested on her shoulders.
—Rachel. You came.
—Of course. I wouldn't miss this. Even if you lose, I need to take responsibility for putting you in this situation.
She crossed her arms… then smiled brilliantly.
—Besides, I need to cheer on a friend properly.
—Thank you… Is Sal coming?
—Of course he is —Roberts interrupted, slinging an arm over my shoulders—. He's just busy doing something more important. Getting you bettors. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet a few stars tonight.
Instead of passing through the Silver wall, Roberts pulled out a red pipe engraved with black axolotls.
I recognized it instantly.
A gift from Irax.
With a single tap, the Silver wall dissolved.
In place of ascending stairs…
There were descending ones.
Rachel didn't hesitate.
She went first.
—You're not backing out now, are you? —she asked from below, almost challenging me—. You know my offer still stands. I can throw my match for you.
—I won't lose —I said firmly—. You won't have to save me.
—Good. Then let's not mention it again.
—Come on —Roberts said, dragging me forward.
The stairs were short.
But darkness swallowed us quickly.
Pitch black.
As if we had stepped into a well filled with ink.
Roberts guided me through the murky void until light returned.
Black walls.
Obsidian-like.
Reflections shimmered across them like rippling water.
As we walked, faint lights illuminated our path.
Rachel moved ahead of us, stopping before a panel.
Roberts gave me a light push forward.
—This is it, Tris. The Pit.
Her voice echoed through the chamber.
—You stay here —Roberts said—. Wait until the terminal signals you.
—And you?
—We'll go ahead —Rachel pointed to a nearly invisible staircase to the right—. Last chance. You sure?
—Yeah.
—Fine… Good luck.
—Make me money, kid —Roberts added as he followed her.
As promised, I waited.
I don't know how long.
At some point, the wall behind me sealed shut—like ink flooding upward before hardening into obsidian.
The stairway vanished too.
Then the terminal activated.
[Participant Number 19961908:Enter Initial Wager]
Without hesitation, I placed my hand on it.
My monitor instantly reflected the deduction.
-50k credits.
20k remaining.
—Let's do this…
The terminal sank into the ground.
In front of me, fluorescent liquid began forming letters.
[Round One: Lepus]
The glowing substance shaped itself into a small hare—like a miniature Constellation.
The first minor constellation.
—Guess I'm lucky.
Without questioning it.
Without fear.
I stepped forward—
And crossed the wall to face my first challenge in the Pit.