Silence followed the chaos.
Not calm silence. Not safety. Just the kind that rang in the ears after something broke.
Aren stood frozen, chest heaving, fingers still trembling in the air where the attack had erupted. The fragments he'd launched slowly lost their glow and clattered to the Rift floor, dissolving into light before they could fully settle.
The monsters were gone.
Some had been shattered outright. Others had dissolved into black mist that seeped into the glowing veins beneath the ground, as if the Rift itself were reclaiming them.
Aren didn't relax. Not yet.
His knees finally gave out, and he dropped to one knee, one hand braced against the pulsing floor. It felt warmer now. Not hostile. Not friendly either. Just… aware.
His breathing slowed, but his heart still hammered like it was trying to escape his ribs.
"I'm alive…" he muttered, almost disbelieving.
The warmth in his chest hadn't faded. If anything, it felt deeper now, more settled. No longer a wild flare, but a steady presence. Heavy. Waiting.
The Rift around him shifted.
The jagged structures straightened slightly. The hum softened, changing pitch. A wide, circular platform formed beneath him, its surface smoother than the rest, etched with faint symbols that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
Aren noticed it immediately.
"This place…" he whispered. "It's reacting to me."
As if in response, light gathered in front of him.
Lines formed. Shapes aligned. Symbols he didn't recognize arranged themselves into something eerily structured.
A translucent interface flickered into existence.
Not a screen. Not magic. Something in between.
Text burned into the air.
Fragment Detected
Compatibility: Confirmed
Status: Unawakened → Stabilizing
Aren stared, mouth slightly open.
"No way…"
The interface pulsed once, then shifted.
Survival Condition Met
Rift Exposure Threshold Exceeded
Initial Authority Seed Forming
Authority.
The word made his skin prickle.
Before he could react, pain surged through his chest. Not sharp, not violent—deep, spreading, like something rooting itself inside him. He gasped, clutching his shirt as the glow beneath his skin flared briefly, then vanished.
When it was over, he collapsed onto his back, staring up at the warped sky of the Rift.
He laughed. Softly. Breathlessly.
"So that's it," he said. "Fall through my apartment floor… fight monsters… and now this thing's inside me."
The interface faded, but the feeling remained.
He wasn't normal anymore.
The Rift hadn't just tried to kill him.
It had marked him.
Somewhere far above—far beyond the Rift—sirens wailed in the real world. Guild sensors screamed. Monitors spiked.
A new anomaly had been registered.
And at its center…
Aren Vale took his first breath as something more than human.
The platform beneath Aren pulsed once more.
He felt it before he saw anything. A shift. Like something inside him had finally settled into place. The warmth in his chest wasn't chaotic anymore. It was steady. Heavy. Present.
Aren slowly sat up, hand pressed over his heart.
"It's not… hurting," he muttered.
The Rift responded.
The glowing veins in the floor dimmed slightly, then reorganized, flowing toward him in thin lines of light. They didn't touch his body, stopping just short, hovering as if waiting for permission.
Aren frowned. "You're reacting to me again…"
He hesitated, then did something reckless.
He focused.
Not on fear. Not on survival. On intent.
The warmth in his chest answered instantly.
The hovering lines of light snapped inward, vanishing into him. His vision blurred for a second, then sharpened unnaturally. He could suddenly feel the space around him. Not see it. Sense it.
Distances. Weight. Instability.
He knew which parts of the ground would collapse if he stepped on them. Which floating shards would hold his weight. Where the Rift's flow was calm… and where it was violent.
Aren sucked in a breath. "I can… tell."
He raised his hand slowly.
The shard he had used earlier lifted smoothly, without resistance. No strain. No panic. Just response.
It wasn't raw power.
It was control.
The air shimmered, and the interface flickered back into existence, clearer than before.
Fragment Status: Initialized
Type: Authority-Aligned (Dormant)
Primary Ability Unlocked:
Rift Sense (Passive)
– Detects spatial instability
– Predicts Rift hazards
– Enhances survival probability
Aren stared at the words.
"Authority-aligned…" he whispered.
The shard lowered gently to the ground. His breathing slowed. His hands stopped shaking.
This wasn't some random blessing.
This wasn't luck.
The Rift hadn't given him strength.
It had given him permission.
Aren pushed himself to his feet. The monsters were gone, but he could feel it now—other presences deeper in the Rift. Stronger. Heavier. Watching.
Fear stirred.
But it didn't own him anymore.
"If this place thinks it can decide whether I live or die," he said quietly, eyes hardening, "then it picked the wrong guy to test."
The platform beneath him extended forward, forming a narrow path into the distorted distance.
An invitation.
Or a challenge.
Aren took his first step forward without hesitation.
The path beneath Aren's feet hummed softly as he stepped forward. Not solid stone. Not light. Something in between. His Rift Sense pulsed gently in his chest, feeding him quiet information he didn't consciously ask for.
Left was unstable.
Right was worse.
Straight ahead… tolerable.
He followed that instinct without question.
The deeper he went, the more the Rift changed. The jagged spires thinned out, replaced by vast open space where fragments of land floated like broken islands. Some drifted slowly. Others rotated, grinding against each other with a low, echoing sound.
Aren paused at the edge of a gap.
His eyes said the distance was too far.
His sense said otherwise.
He took a step.
The air beneath his foot hardened just enough to support him. A faint glow formed under his sole, vanishing as soon as he shifted his weight. He swallowed, heart pounding, then continued forward, walking across nothingness as if the Rift itself was holding him up.
"So that's how it works," he muttered. "You don't make a bridge… you just convince the Rift you should be standing there."
The thought unsettled him.
And thrilled him.
A sudden ripple ran through the space ahead.
Aren stopped instantly.
His Rift Sense flared sharper this time, no longer passive. It screamed warning.
Something massive moved far below, its presence dragging against the structure of the Rift itself. Not attacking. Not hunting.
Passing through.
The floating islands trembled as the presence moved, shadows bending around it like reality was afraid to look directly at it.
Aren held his breath.
Whatever that thing was, it wasn't meant for him. Not yet. But the realization hit him hard.
This place wasn't built for beginners.
He moved again, slower now, choosing paths where the Rift felt calmer. The air grew colder. The hum deeper. Symbols etched into distant platforms glowed faintly as he passed, reacting to his presence in subtle ways.
Then he noticed it.
A distortion ahead. Smaller than the rest. Stable. Circular.
An opening.
Not a gate. Not an exit.
A node.
His Rift Sense pulsed with certainty. This place mattered. It was safer than the rest. Not safe. Just… less hostile.
Aren stepped onto the platform.
The moment his foot touched it, the Rift went quiet.
The hum faded. The distant movements vanished. Even the air felt lighter.
At the center of the platform floated a faint, flickering crystal no larger than his fist. It wasn't glowing aggressively like the others. It pulsed slowly, in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Aren approached cautiously.
"This is either a really bad idea," he said softly, "or the first good thing that's happened today."
When his fingers brushed the crystal, it didn't resist.
It sank into his palm like mist.
His chest tightened—not painfully, but deeply—as the fragment responded. Information flowed, not as words, but as understanding. Not power.
Foundation.
The interface appeared again, clearer than ever.
Rift Node Stabilized
Temporary Safe Zone established
Fragment Growth: Minor
Authority Seed: Anchored
Aren exhaled slowly.
A safe zone.
He sat down on the platform, back against nothing, staring out at the endless Rift.
For the first time since he fell through his apartment floor, he allowed himself to rest.
But even as his breathing steadied, his Rift Sense whispered a truth he couldn't ignore.
This place wasn't done with him.
And he wasn't done with it either.
The calm didn't last.
Aren was just beginning to steady his breathing when the space in front of him distorted, as if the Rift itself were inhaling. Light folded inward, symbols tearing themselves out of the air and snapping into alignment.
A screen formed.
This one felt different.
He didn't sense it with his Rift Sense first.
He felt it assert itself.
The air grew heavy. The safe platform dimmed, its glow tightening, like it was bracing for something inevitable.
Text burned into existence, sharp and absolute.
RIFT CONDITION UPDATED
Exit Access: Locked
Clear Requirement:
→ Defeat the Elite Entity governing this Rift
Elite Classification:
Gravebound Warden
Type: Abyssal Construct
Threat Level: Extreme (Unranked)
Aren stared at the words.
Elite.
His jaw tightened. "So that's it," he said quietly. "No doors. No mercy."
His Rift Sense reacted violently at the monster's name alone. The sensation was like pressure pushing down on his spine, warning him that this wasn't like the creatures before. This thing wasn't spawned randomly.
It belonged here.
The platform beneath him shuddered.
Far beyond the floating islands, something moved.
Not fast.
Not aggressively.
Deliberately.
The Rift darkened in the distance, shadows collapsing inward as a massive silhouette began to rise from below. Chains of blackened energy dragged behind it, scraping against reality itself. Each movement sent ripples through the entire space.
Aren stood slowly.
His heart pounded, but his hands were steady.
"An elite monster to leave," he muttered. "Figures."
The screen faded, leaving only the distorted horizon… and the approaching presence of the Gravebound Warden.
Aren rolled his shoulders, exhaled once, and set his feet.
"If I'm walking out of here," he said, eyes locked forward, "it won't be because you let me."
The Rift hummed.
And the hunt began.
The Rift answered his resolve with silence.
Not calm.
Anticipation.
Aren's Rift Sense screamed as the silhouette drew closer. The floating islands around the safe node began to drift apart, pulled by an invisible force. The glow beneath his feet thinned, stretching like it might tear if he stayed still too long.
Then the Gravebound Warden emerged fully.
It was massive. Easily three times Aren's height, its body forged from dark stone and warped metal fused together by black energy. Chains wrapped around its torso and limbs, not restraining it but anchoring it to the Rift itself. Each step it took dragged the chains across the void, carving scars into the air.
Its head was featureless except for a single vertical裂 of pale light where a face should have been. That light fixed onto Aren.
He felt it.
Not sight.
Judgment.
The Warden raised one arm. The chains attached to it rattled violently, then shot forward, tearing through floating terrain like paper. Entire chunks of Rift shattered as the chains slammed down, narrowly missing Aren's platform.
Aren leapt back just as the ground collapsed where he'd been standing.
"Okay," he muttered, landing hard on a drifting island. "No messing around."
His Rift Sense flooded him with data. The chains weren't just weapons. They were conduits. Wherever they struck, the Rift became hostile, unstable, lethal.
This thing wasn't just strong.
It controlled the battlefield.
The Warden advanced, slow and unstoppable, dragging the Rift with it. Another chain lashed out. Aren jumped, twisted midair, and landed on a shard that immediately began to crack.
He pushed off without hesitation.
As he moved, the fragment in his chest pulsed harder than ever before. Not violently. Purposefully. Like it was urging him to keep going, to keep adapting.
"Fine," Aren said through clenched teeth. "Let's adapt."
He focused. Not on attacking. Not yet.
On space.
The moment he did, the Rift reacted. Platforms aligned just enough for him to run. Gaps narrowed. Falling debris slowed when it came near him, as if acknowledging his intent.
The Warden noticed.
The pale裂 in its face flared brighter. The chains recoiled, then slammed into the ground around Aren, forming a rough circle.
Aren skidded to a stop.
The air inside the circle thickened, gravity pressing down harder with each second. His knees bent involuntarily.
So that's how it hunts, he realized.
Corner. Crush. Execute.
His heart hammered, but his mind was sharp.
"You're not the only one with authority here," he said quietly.
The fragment responded.
Not with power.
With permission.
The Rift Sense sharpened beyond anything he'd felt before. He could see the flow of instability now, the weak points where the Warden's control overlapped with the Rift's natural chaos.
And for the first time, Aren smiled.
Not wide. Not confident.
Determined.
The chains tightened.
The Warden raised its arm for the finishing blow.
And Aren bent his knees, ready to move—not to flee, but to strike where even an elite guardian couldn't fully dominate.
The fight had truly begun.
Aren moved first.
Not forward. Not back.
Up.
He pushed off the cracking ground at the exact moment his Rift Sense screamed, and the space above him folded just enough to let him pass. A chain slammed through where his chest had been a heartbeat earlier, shattering the island into fragments that dissolved before they could fall.
He landed hard on a narrow slab of Riftstone, boots skidding.
The pressure inside the chain circle intensified.
So that's your trick, Aren thought. Overwrite the space. Force everything else to submit.
The fragment in his chest pulsed, steady and calm, like it was waiting for him to understand something.
"This place isn't yours alone," Aren said under his breath. "You just think it is."
The Warden tilted its head slightly.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Another chain lashed out, not aiming for Aren this time, but the platform beneath him. The Riftstone screamed as it destabilized, glow flickering violently.
Aren didn't jump away.
He slammed his foot down.
The fragment surged.
The platform didn't collapse. Instead, it locked, veins of light racing across its surface as if Aren's will had overridden the Warden's command. The chain struck and rebounded, sparks of warped energy scattering into the void.
Aren's eyes widened.
"I can contest you," he whispered.
The Warden reacted instantly. All chains recoiled, then plunged into the Rift around Aren, anchoring into multiple layers of space. The gravity spiked. Aren felt his bones protest as the pressure multiplied.
He dropped to one knee.
Blood rushed in his ears. His vision darkened at the edges.
This thing wasn't panicking.
It was escalating.
The interface flickered violently in front of him, text unstable.
Authority Conflict Detected
Fragment Output: Insufficient
Override Risk: Critical
Aren laughed breathlessly.
"Yeah," he said, forcing himself back to his feet. "Figured."
The Rift Sense screamed now, not with warnings, but with possibilities. Not safe ones. Desperate ones.
He locked onto a single point.
The chains.
Not the metal.
Not the energy.
The connection.
Every chain fed into the Warden's core, and every anchor distorted the Rift to obey it. But distortion meant strain. And strain meant cracks.
Aren spread his fingers.
The fragment answered.
Not with brute force.
With alignment.
The space around one chain wavered, then twisted slightly off-axis. The chain shuddered, its glow flickering as its anchor point destabilized.
The Warden froze.
For the first time, it hesitated.
Aren felt the recoil immediately. Pain flared through his chest, sharp and deep, like the fragment was warning him not to push further.
He gritted his teeth anyway.
"One's enough," he growled.
The chain snapped free.
Not breaking.
Rejected.
The Rift swallowed it, severing the connection in a violent pulse of light.
The Warden staggered, massive body grinding as it lost balance for the first time since emerging. The gravity field collapsed outward, throwing Aren backward onto another drifting slab.
He hit hard, gasping.
The fragment burned, not angrily, but strained.
He couldn't do that again. Not yet.
But the damage was done.
The Warden straightened slowly, its pale裂 dimmer now, chains dragging heavier than before.
It had lost something.
Not strength.
Certainty.
Aren pushed himself up, breathing hard, eyes locked on the elite monster.
"You guard this place," he said, voice low but steady. "But I don't answer to guards."
The Rift hummed louder, deeper.
The next exchange wouldn't be testing.
It would decide who truly held authority here.