It started with a tremor.
Aren was halfway home, hands buried in his pockets, Hina still chattering about something trivial, when the street beneath them vibrated. Just a subtle shake at first—like a heavy truck passing—but then the ground shifted more violently.
People on the sidewalk stumbled, honking cars screeched to a halt, and the air itself seemed to warp with pressure.
Aren froze instinctively, Rift Sense flaring faintly despite being outside a Rift. The fragment in his chest pulsed sharply, heavy and insistent. Danger.
Hina stopped mid-sentence. "W-what was that?"
Aren's eyes scanned the street. Buildings trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the pavement. And then the light in the distance… it twisted. Not like the sun or streetlights, but warping, bending space unnaturally, as if reality itself were being tugged.
"Not a quake," Aren muttered under his breath. "Something else."
A dark rift began forming in the middle of the street, jagged and flickering. Energy leaked from it in unstable pulses, distorting the air with faint screams of unseen things.
Hina grabbed his arm. "Aren! What's happening?!"
He didn't answer. His focus sharpened. The fragment throbbed in recognition, reacting to the raw authority trying to pour into the world.
Aren's heart raced. A Rift… in the city… shallow? Mid-depth? Deep?
The surface of the street cracked violently, chunks of concrete lifted like paper. Shadows spilled out first, followed by the first creature—twisted, malformed, and massive, unlike anything seen in ordinary life. Its limbs were elongated, joints bending at impossible angles, skin pale and glistening as though wet with darkness itself.
Aren stepped in front of Hina instinctively. "Stay back."
The creature lurched forward, and the fragment in his chest pulsed with recognition—another authority, another echo of power challenging him.
People screamed and scattered, cars overturned, and chaos erupted as more rifts flickered open along the street. Each emitted the same oppressive energy, each summoning something unnatural.
Aren gritted his teeth, fists tightening.
"Well," he muttered, voice low, "looks like 'ordinary life' is over."
Hina clung to his arm. "Aren! What do we do?!"
He glanced at her, his eyes hard but calm. "Survive. First priority—survive."
The fragment in his chest pulsed, warm and steady. He could feel it urging him, whispering: fight, control, adapt.
Above them, a rift tore wider, and the first wave of monsters began pouring into the street.
And Aren knew… this wasn't random.
This was only the beginning.
The first monster lunged toward them, claws scraping the pavement, eyes glowing faintly with unnatural light. Hina screamed, stumbling backward.
Aren grabbed her shoulders firmly, shaking her slightly. "Listen to me! Go home. Now!"
Hina's hazel eyes widened. "W-what? Aren, I can't just leave you—"
"Yes, you can!" Aren snapped, voice sharp but controlled. "I can handle this… maybe. You won't survive if you stay here. Get out of the street. Go! Run!"
Hina hesitated, looking at the chaos: cracked streets, rifts opening in midair, twisted monsters spilling into the city. Her grip on his arm tightened for a moment, then slowly, reluctantly, she nodded.
"Promise me you'll be okay," she whispered.
Aren's jaw tightened. He couldn't lie to her—not really. "…I'll be fine," he muttered, though even he wasn't sure it was true.
Hina gave him a small, trembling smile. "Okay… then I'll go."
She turned and ran toward the nearest side street, blending into the fleeing crowd. Aren's eyes followed her until she disappeared around a corner.
Then he turned back.
The rifts pulsed, widening violently. Shadows writhed inside them, the unmistakable call of authority challenging his own.
Aren's chest tightened. The fragment inside throbbed in recognition, warmth flaring as if bracing him.
He took a deep breath, fists clenching. "Alright… let's see what you've got."
And then he stepped forward.
The air warped around him as he approached the largest rift. Its edges flickered violently, the ground beneath it already shredded. Reality groaned under the pressure of the Rift's authority.
Aren focused. The fragment responded immediately, filling his chest with warmth and weight. He let it anchor him, his mind clear and sharp.
One step.
Two steps.
Then he jumped.
The world folded around him. Concrete and air blurred into streams of distorted light. Gravity twisted and snapped. The fragment flared fiercely in his chest, aligning him with the Rift's flow, keeping him from being crushed or torn apart.
The monsters' shrieks echoed faintly as he fell deeper, but Aren blocked them out, letting the fragment guide him. Every instinct from yesterday screamed at him to survive, adapt, control.
The rift's interior opened fully around him, darkness interlaced with threads of light, floating platforms of warped space, and the oppressive, pulsing authority of whatever lay within.
Aren landed on a jagged piece of Riftstone, crouching, fists ready. His breath was steady, heart racing, but calmness had returned, sharpened by yesterday's trial.
"Time to find out just what this thing can really do," he muttered.
Above him, the Rift pulsed as if acknowledging his arrival. The chaos outside—the city, Hina, everything mundane—was gone.
Here, there was only the Rift… and Aren.
And the monsters waiting for him.
The room was sterile, white, and humming faintly with the sound of ventilation. Large monitors lined the walls, displaying maps, energy signatures, and live Rift feeds from across the city.
At the center, a cluster of officials and field coordinators stood around a holographic display. A red dot pulsed violently on the map—midtown—marking the site of the Rift.
"Mid-depth," one of the younger analysts said, voice tight. "The energy signature matches a Level-4 Rift. Unstable. Unconfirmed containment."
A veteran agent, tall and sharp-eyed, frowned. "Confirmed sightings?"
"Multiple civilian reports," the analyst replied. "Plus… we've got a live feed showing a single human entering the Rift."
The room went silent for a beat. Then another voice, deeper, more authoritative, broke it: "A teenager?"
The analyst nodded. "Male. Estimated sixteen. Alone. No guild affiliation. No clearance for Rift entry."
The veteran's jaw tightened. "You're telling me a child—possibly inexperienced—is inside a Mid-depth Rift filled with hostile entities and unpredictable authority fields?"
"Yes, sir," the analyst replied, slightly flustered. "Entry seems voluntary. No signs of coercion… but the system is detecting fragment-like resonance in his body."
A low murmur ran through the room. A fragment inside a teenager wasn't just unusual—it was unheard of.
The commanding officer, a woman with sharp gray eyes, stepped forward. "Status on field response?"
"Teams are on standby," another agent said, gesturing to a live feed of armored squads mobilizing across the city streets. "Containment protocols are ready. We can intervene once the Rift stabilizes, but—"
"Once it stabilizes?" the officer interrupted sharply. "Mid-depth Rifts don't wait. Every second we delay increases risk. Civilian casualties could spike, and if he's already interacting with authority fragments… we're dealing with unknown variables."
A junior analyst swallowed nervously. "Sir… if he has a fragment, even dormant… it could amplify Rift effects. The Rift may react unpredictably. Escalation to deep-level authority isn't out of the question."
The room grew tense. The commanding officer tapped her chin thoughtfully, staring at the red dot on the map. "Prepare all containment measures, but hold off on direct engagement. Keep him under surveillance. We need to know what he's capable of before risking lives."
Another holographic feed flickered on, showing the Rift's jagged edges, pulsing ominously. Space around it warped and shimmered as if breathing.
"Mid-depth, yes," she muttered quietly. "But this isn't just any Rift. And whoever that kid is… he's already inside, testing the system. I want constant updates. Notify all field teams: do not engage unless absolutely necessary. And… alert the higher authorities. This changes everything."
A junior agent glanced nervously at the hologram. "Sir… this is unprecedented. He's a teenager. Alone. Against—"
The officer cut him off with a sharp gesture. "I know what he's against. We'll watch. We'll analyze. And we'll act… if we must."
The room fell silent again, everyone aware of the stakes. A mid-depth Rift was dangerous enough—but a teenager carrying a fragment, already inside… that was a variable no protocol could predict.
Outside the secure glass walls, the city continued unaware. People moved about their daily lives, oblivious to the dangerous, pulsing reality just beneath their feet—or in the case of this Rift, right above the streets of midtown.
Inside the government command center, all eyes remained on the monitors, waiting to see what this teenager would do next.
And somewhere, deep in the Rift, Aren moved silently, unaware that he was being watched by the most organized force in the country.
The Rift yawned wider as Aren stepped onto a jagged platform of warped stone. Dark energy rippled across the walls, and shards of reality floated in suspended arcs around him. The pulsing authority of the Rift pressed down subtly, like invisible hands measuring his weight against the rules of this world.
Ahead, movement.
Monsters emerged from the shadows, malformed shapes and twisted limbs dragging themselves over fractured platforms. The first, a hulking brute with pale, jagged skin, slammed its fist against the Riftstone, sending shards of floating debris skittering into the air.
Aren's chest pulsed as the fragment warmed, responding immediately. He clenched his fists.
Control, not brute force.
The fragment flared faintly in his chest, anchoring him to the warped space, letting him feel the flow of the Rift beneath his feet. He lifted a hand, and the jagged stone floor responded. A shard of Riftstone detached and floated between his palms, hovering steadily.
The monster charged. Its claws scraped across the platform, sending sparks of authority-shock into the surrounding space.
Aren didn't flinch. He thrust the floating shard forward, aiming at the creature's chest. The shard struck and exploded in a controlled pulse of energy. The brute staggered back, staggering as if the pulse had bypassed its defenses entirely, then roared and lunged again.
The fragment pulsed in response, and Aren realized he could do more. Lifting both hands, he directed multiple shards of Riftstone toward the advancing enemies. They orbited him, controlled by his intent, their momentum guided with precision.
The creatures collided with the shards and were sent flying backward, staggering, struggling to maintain form in the warped space. Aren felt the exertion immediately—each shard took focus, each strike sapped his energy—but the fragment held steady, stabilizing him against the Rift's unpredictable fluctuations.
Back in the government command center, monitors flickered. Analysts leaned forward in their seats, wide-eyed.
"Readings are off the charts!" one yelled. "The energy signature inside the Rift is spiking… and it's concentrated on a single human subject!"
A hologram displayed pulsing bursts of authority around the red dot—Aren—showing fragments of the Rift reacting violently as if obeying or resisting his will.
Another agent pointed at the screen. "It's the fragment. The kid's fragment is stabilizing parts of the Rift… he's manipulating it!"
The commanding officer's expression tightened. "A teenager? Alone? And he's already interacting with Rift authority? Track everything. Every pulse, every fluctuation. We need a full assessment before any field intervention."
Meanwhile, Aren ducked as a smaller monster darted toward him, claws aimed at his torso. He extended his hand; a shard swung in a controlled arc, slicing the creature in two before it could strike. The Rift vibrated around him, reacting to the fragment's authority, bending subtly to his will.
He exhaled, focus sharp. "Not bad… for day two."
A pulse of light radiated from the fragment, resonating with the Rift. The air shimmered, and even the larger monsters paused, sensing the new balance of power.
Aren's eyes narrowed. "So… this is what a mid-depth Rift looks like when it tests you."
He smiled faintly, almost with amusement. "Good thing I've got leftovers from the Warden."
And as the monsters regrouped for another wave, the monitors back in the city reflected one simple truth: the teenager was no ordinary Rift explorer.
He was shaping it.
And the government had never seen anything like it.
Aren crouched behind a floating shard of Riftstone, eyes scanning the warped battlefield. Monsters were regrouping, snarling in grotesque unison. He could feel the fragment inside him pulsing—stronger now, more insistent.
"Alright…" he muttered, flexing his fingers. "Time to see what you can really do."
He extended both hands and focused, letting the warmth of the fragment anchor him. The space around him responded immediately: shards of Riftstone, previously static, began orbiting him in controlled patterns. Not just a single shard this time—dozens moved in concentric arcs, hovering with unnatural precision.
A monster lunged from the side. Aren tilted his wrist slightly, and the orbiting shards converged in a sweeping arc, intercepting the attacker before it could reach him. The impact sent the creature crashing into the Riftstone floor, dazed.
His eyes narrowed. "That's better."
He clenched his fists again. Energy pulsed from the fragment into his hands, rippling across the floating shards. He pushed a thought forward: form a barrier.
Immediately, the shards rearranged themselves into a semi-transparent wall around him, deflecting the swipes of smaller monsters. Each shard rotated instinctively, intercepting attacks, the fragment anticipating his intent before he even moved.
Aren grinned faintly, the thrill of control coursing through him. "So I can fight and defend… neat."
He tested the offensive side next. Lifting a shard high above his head, he flung it toward a massive brute. But instead of a straight attack, he focused on the fragment's resonance with the Rift itself. The shard split mid-air into multiple shards, each ricocheting off the warped walls and striking the creature from unexpected angles.
The brute staggered, screeching, clearly overwhelmed by the precise, unpredictable assault.
Aren felt the fragment pulse in approval. He pushed further. Energy surged outward in concentric waves from his chest, subtly bending space around him. The smaller monsters were knocked off balance, their movements slowed, while the larger ones struggled against the sudden distortion.
He had gone from reactive survival to active control.
Sweat ran down his brow, muscles tensing with the exertion. The fragment was powerful—but every advanced move demanded focus, alignment, and restraint. Overextend, and he could collapse—or worse, destabilize part of the Rift.
Aren exhaled sharply, eyes sweeping the battlefield. "Not bad… for a guy who started yesterday as nothing."
He rotated his hands subtly. The shards responded instantly, creating spinning arcs that forced the monsters back, corralling them toward a narrower section of the Riftstone platform.
And in that moment, Aren realized something crucial:
He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was learning the Rift.
The monsters were strong, the authority oppressive, but the fragment inside him was more than a tool—it was a guide. A teacher. A force amplifying his instincts and focus.
Aren's grin widened, faint and sharp. "Let's see what else you've got, Rift."
And somewhere deeper inside the chaotic mid-depth Rift, the shadows of more formidable enemies stirred, sensing the rising power of the boy who refused to stay weak.
The Rift shuddered.
Not the chaotic trembling from before, but something heavier. Deliberate. As if the space itself had decided the test was over.
Aren felt it instantly.
The fragment in his chest went cold.
"…That's new," he muttered.
The warped platforms ahead began to shift, grinding against one another with a deep, echoing groan. Floating shards pulled inward, rearranging themselves into a vast circular arena. At its center, the Rift thickened, light and darkness folding into a dense core.
Authority descended.
Aren's breath slowed. His instincts screamed a single word.
Boss.
Four presences emerged first.
They didn't rush. They didn't roar.
They walked out of the distortion, each step heavy with purpose.
The first elite was tall and skeletal, its body wrapped in fractured armor fused directly to bone. Chains dragged behind it, scraping against the Riftstone, each link etched with glowing sigils. Its hollow eyes locked onto Aren with quiet malice.
The second dropped from above, landing in a crouch. A beast-like humanoid with elongated arms and blade-like claws, its muscles tightly coiled. Its movements were efficient, predatory, calculated.
The third floated instead of walking. A robed figure made of condensed shadow, its lower body dissolving into mist. Strange symbols orbited around it slowly, reacting to the fragment in Aren's chest.
The fourth elite stepped out last.
Massive. Broad. Covered in jagged plates of Riftstone that pulsed faintly with energy. Each breath it took caused the ground beneath it to crack.
Aren swallowed.
"Four elites…" he whispered. "So this is mid-depth hospitality."
Then the center of the arena responded.
The Rift core expanded, splitting open like an eye.
Something stood up inside it.
The Rift Boss emerged slowly, towering over the elites, its form half-formed from warped space itself. Its body constantly shifted, never fully solid, like reality hadn't decided what it was allowed to be. A single, massive core glowed in its chest, radiating oppressive authority.
When it looked at Aren, the pressure spiked.
Not rage.
Not hunger.
Judgment.
The fragment in Aren's chest reacted violently, heat flaring as if answering a challenge older than the Rift itself.
Back in the government command center, alarms erupted.
"Authority spike detected!"
"Multiple elite signatures confirmed!"
"The Rift is restructuring itself—boss-class entity present!"
The commanding officer stared at the screen, her expression dark. "Four elites guarding the core… this isn't a normal mid-depth Rift."
An analyst's voice trembled. "The teenager is still inside. Alone."
Inside the Rift, Aren rolled his shoulders slowly, forcing his breathing to steady. Sweat dripped down his temple, but his eyes were sharp. Focused.
"Alright," he said quietly, shards of Riftstone lifting around him once more. "Guess negotiations are off."
The four elites spread out, forming a loose circle around him.
The boss remained still.
Watching.
Waiting.
Aren raised his hand, fragment pulsing in his chest, rage and resolve mixing into something dangerously calm.
"Come on then," he said, voice low, edged with frustration and fire.
"Let's see how many of you it takes to put me down."
The Rift answered with a deep, echoing roar.
And the real fight began.
The Rift Boss did not move.
It remained seated within the warped core at the center of the arena, vast and unreadable, its shifting form pulsing slowly like a breathing void. The pressure it radiated didn't advance. It observed.
Aren noticed immediately.
"…So you're the type that watches," he muttered.
The fragment in his chest reacted with restrained tension, not panic. The boss wasn't hostile yet. Not directly. It was evaluating him, the same way the Rift itself had before.
The four elites, however, did not share that patience.
They spread wider, footsteps deliberate, cutting off every escape angle. The chain-bound elite dragged its links across the ground, the sound echoing like a countdown. The beast-type elite lowered its stance, claws digging into the Riftstone. The floating caster rotated slightly, symbols flaring brighter. The plated giant cracked its knuckles, fragments falling from its armor.
Aren exhaled slowly.
Four opponents. One boss watching. No mistakes.
He lifted both hands. Shards rose instantly, orbiting him in layered rings. Not chaotic. Controlled. Defensive and offensive lines forming instinctively.
The boss's core pulsed once.
Not approval.
Interest.
Back in the command center, the feed stabilized just enough for analysts to breathe.
"The boss isn't engaging," one said. "It's… spectating."
The commanding officer narrowed her eyes. "Then this is a trial. The Rift is testing compatibility."
Inside the arena, the chain-bound elite moved first.
Its chains snapped forward like living things, tearing through the air toward Aren. He reacted instantly, twisting his wrist. Two shards collided with the chains mid-flight, deflecting them, sparks of authority scattering on impact.
The beast elite followed, vanishing in a blur and reappearing at Aren's flank.
Too fast.
Aren felt the danger spike and slammed his palm downward. Space warped for a split second. The beast's movement stuttered, its momentum distorted just enough for Aren to slide back, shards slashing across its side.
It screeched, retreating.
The caster elite raised one hand, symbols spinning violently. A compressed wave of Rift energy fired toward Aren. He crossed his arms, shards locking together into a dense barrier. The impact slammed him backward, boots skidding across Riftstone.
Pain flared up his arms.
The plated giant advanced, slow but unstoppable.
Aren steadied himself, teeth clenched, eyes burning with focus.
"So that's how it's going to be," he said quietly.
At the center of the arena, the Rift Boss leaned forward slightly.
Still not attacking.
Still watching.
Measuring how long the boy could last.
And Aren understood.
This wasn't a battle for victory yet.
It was a qualification.
And if he failed—
The boss wouldn't need to lift a finger.
The pressure spiked suddenly.
Not from the elites.
Not from the boss.
From inside Aren.
He staggered half a step, eyes widening as a sharp pulse tore through his chest. The fragment burned hot, no longer dormant, no longer observing.
Then—
A translucent screen snapped open in front of him.
It wasn't like a phone display. It floated directly in his vision, letters etched in cold, neutral light, completely unaffected by the chaos around him.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Unclaimed Elite Entity Fragment Detected
Origin: Warden-class Entity
Previous Status: Dormant
Potential: Unidentified
Condition met. Activation initiated.
Aren's breath caught.
"What…?" he whispered.
The screen flickered once, then updated.
[FRAGMENT ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
Entity Fragment: Warden Remnant
Classification: Elite-tier Authority Fragment
Primary Ability Unlocked:
Telekinesis
Authority Level: Commander-class
Description:
→ Grants advanced spatial-force manipulation
→ Allows multi-target control and battlefield dominance
→ Efficiency scales with mental clarity and authority resistance
Warning:
Commander-level output exceeds standard human limits.
The screen vanished.
The world rushed back in.
And suddenly—
Everything felt different.
Aren gasped softly as the Rift seemed to slow. Not time itself, but his perception of force, weight, and motion sharpened to an unnatural degree. He could feel every elite around him. Their mass. Their momentum. The exact pressure their movements placed on space.
Telekinesis wasn't just lifting objects.
It was commanding force.
The fragment settled into his core, no longer chaotic, no longer raw. Structured. Aligned. Like a weapon finally recognizing its wielder.
The chain-bound elite lashed out again.
This time, Aren didn't dodge.
He raised his hand.
The chains stopped mid-air.
Not deflected.
Not blocked.
Frozen.
The elite's eyes widened as its own weapon trembled violently, every link screaming under invisible pressure. Aren's fingers curled slowly, deliberately.
The chains crushed inward with a metallic shriek.
The beast elite lunged—
—and was slammed sideways into the arena wall as if swatted by an unseen giant.
The caster's symbols flickered wildly, destabilizing under the sudden shift in authority.
Aren stood still at the center of it all, chest rising and falling, eyes burning with something new.
"…Commander-level," he murmured, half in disbelief, half in grim understanding.
At the heart of the arena, the Rift Boss finally reacted.
It didn't stand.
It didn't attack.
But its core flared brighter.
Not with hostility.
With recognition.
The trial had just changed.
The shift was immediate.
The elites felt it before they understood it.
Aren didn't rush. He didn't shout. He simply willed.
The chain-bound elite was the first to fall. Aren clenched his fist, and the frozen chains reversed direction, snapping back toward their owner. They wrapped around the elite's torso, limbs, neck—tightening with merciless precision. A sharp pull, and the entity collapsed inward, its armor cracking as its core shattered in a burst of dull light.
One down.
The beast-type elite tried to adapt, zigzagging across the arena with brutal speed. Aren tracked it effortlessly now. With a flick of his wrist, invisible force caught the creature mid-leap and slammed it into the ground. Once. Twice. A third time.
The Riftstone cratered.
The beast didn't rise again.
The caster elite panicked.
Its symbols flared violently as it attempted to channel a massive spell, but Aren reached out and gripped the space around it. The symbols twisted, folded in on themselves, and imploded. The elite screamed soundlessly as its form unraveled, dissolving into mist.
Three.
The plated giant roared and charged, each step shaking the arena. Aren met it head-on. He planted his feet, raised both hands, and pushed.
Not forward.
Down.
The giant was forced to its knees, armor screaming under crushing pressure. Aren's eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as he increased the force just enough.
The elite shattered.
Silence fell.
The arena was empty now, littered with fading remains and cracked Riftstone. Aren stood alone, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his chin. His head throbbed, but the fragment remained stable, humming with restrained power.
Slowly, he looked up.
The Rift Boss was still there.
Still watching.
It rose at last.
Not abruptly. Not violently. It simply stood, unfolding from the warped core, its massive presence warping the arena further. The pressure doubled. Then tripled.
Aren swallowed.
"Alright," he said quietly, lifting his hand again. "Your turn."
He reached for the telekinesis.
Pushed.
Nothing happened.
His brow furrowed. He pushed harder, forcing the fragment to respond.
The world resisted.
Then—
A screen snapped open, harsher than before.
[AUTHORITY RESTRICTION]
Target: Rift Boss – Sovereign-Class Entity
Attempted Ability: Telekinesis (Commander-level)
Result: FAILED
Reason:
→ Authority level insufficient
→ User rank below minimum threshold
Required: Higher Authority Synchronization
The screen vanished.
Aren's hand trembled.
"…Not enough?" he muttered.
The Rift Boss tilted its head slightly.
Not mockery.
Fact.
Aren let his arm drop slowly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips despite the pressure crushing down on him.
"So I can beat your guards," he said, voice steady but edged with frustration, "but I'm still not allowed to touch you."
The boss's core pulsed once, sending a wave of oppressive authority across the arena. Aren staggered back a step, boots scraping against cracked Riftstone.
This wasn't a fight yet.
This was a wall.
And for the first time since entering the Rift, Aren understood something clearly.
Power alone wasn't enough.
He needed rank.
He needed authority.
He needed to grow.
The boss remained still, towering, absolute.
Waiting to see what the boy would do next.
Aren steadied himself.
The pressure didn't ease, but he stopped fighting it head-on. Instead, he breathed. Slow. Controlled. The fragment in his chest hummed, strained but intact, like a blade pressed against an unbreakable wall.
"So that's it," he said quietly. "This isn't about winning."
The Rift Boss took a single step forward.
The arena warped.
Not an attack. A reminder.
Aren's knees bent slightly under the weight of its authority. His telekinesis responded instinctively, stabilizing the ground beneath him, anchoring his body so he didn't collapse. Sweat rolled down his neck.
The boss raised one massive arm and paused.
Then lowered it.
The pressure lessened just enough for Aren to breathe again.
A screen flickered into existence, softer this time. Not a warning. An evaluation.
[TRIAL RESULT: INCOMPLETE]
Status: Survived
Elite Entities Defeated: 4/4
Boss Engagement: Restricted
Evaluation:
→ User lacks required authority rank
→ Growth potential confirmed
→ Fragment compatibility: High
Outcome:
→ Advancement opportunity granted
Aren's eyes widened slightly.
"Advancement…?"
The boss's core pulsed again, and this time the arena began to collapse inward. Platforms dissolved into light, Riftstone breaking down into streams of energy that flowed toward Aren.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
The fragment in his chest reacted, opening itself just enough to receive what it could. Pain flared briefly, sharp but controlled, like muscles tearing to rebuild stronger.
Aren gritted his teeth but didn't scream.
"So you're not killing me," he muttered. "You're… letting me leave."
The Rift Boss leaned back, returning to its seated position within the core. Its presence receded, no longer oppressive, no longer judging.
The trial was over.
Another screen appeared, final and absolute.
[EXIT CONDITION MET]
Rift Classification: Mid-depth
User Status: Qualified Survivor
Warning:
→ Authority growth incomplete
→ Boss-class entities remain inaccessible
Recommendation:
→ Increase rank
→ Strengthen fragment synchronization
Light engulfed the arena.
Aren felt the familiar pull again, stronger than before, tugging him upward as the Rift released him. The last thing he saw was the boss's glowing core dimming, not in defeat—but in acceptance.
Then the world folded.
And somewhere aboveground, reality prepared to receive him again—
not as a normal high schooler,
not as a ranked hunter,
but as something unfinished.
And growing.
Aren was still suspended in that in-between state when the pull slowed.
The light dimmed just enough for him to see again.
A final screen unfolded before his eyes, larger than the others, its presence heavy with finality.
[STATUS ASSESSMENT COMPLETE]
User: Aren Vale
Current Authority Tier: Tier C
Fragment Synchronization: Partial
Unlocked Ability:
→ Telekinesis (Commander-level)
→ Usage limited by target authority
Aren's eyes narrowed. "Tier C…"
The screen shifted.
[AUTHORITY REQUIREMENT NOTICE]
Target: Rift Boss – Sovereign-Class Entity
Minimum Tier Required to Apply Telekinesis:
▶ Tier A
Reason:
→ Sovereign entities possess autonomous domain resistance
→ Commander-level force insufficient without higher authority rank
"So I was two tiers short," Aren muttered, exhaling slowly. Not angry. Just… clear-headed.
The screen did not disappear.
Instead, a new line appeared.
[SPECIAL CONDITION MET]
Rift: Mid-depth | Sovereign Trial
Boss Status: Unclaimed
→ Return access authorized
→ Condition: Reach required authority tier
The space in front of Aren shimmered.
From the collapsing light, something solid emerged and dropped gently into his open palm.
A key.
Not metal. Not stone.
It was formed from condensed Rift energy, dark at its core with faint silver lines running through it like veins. The moment it touched his skin, the fragment in his chest reacted—recognition, not activation.
Aren stared at it.
[RIFT KEY ACQUIRED]
Designation: Sovereign Return Key
Function:
→ Grants re-entry to this Rift upon meeting authority requirements
→ Single-user bound
→ Boss engagement preserved
Status: Locked (Tier Insufficient)
Aren closed his fingers around the key.
It was warm.
Real.
A promise.
"So you're not done with me," he said quietly, looking into the fading light. "You're just… waiting."
The Rift answered by releasing him completely.
The pull snapped into motion, and the world inverted.
Aren collapsed onto cold concrete, coughing as air rushed back into his lungs. Sirens wailed somewhere nearby. Shouts echoed. The city was alive, loud, chaotic.
He rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.
Tier C.
Tier A required.
A Rift Boss waiting.
And a key in his hand.
Aren let out a tired, crooked smile.
"Fine," he whispered. "I'll come back."
Not as prey.
Not as a test subject.
But as someone who could finally reach out—
And move a god.