They reached Manila at sunset on the sixth day.
Ethan's legs nearly gave out as they crested the final hill and saw the village spread below them.
Made it.
Barely.
[HOST VITALS CRITICAL. MUTATION APPROACHING FINAL PHASE. ESTIMATED TIME TO CRISIS: 17 HOURS.]
Ethan had felt it building over the past two days. Headaches that came and went like waves. Moments where his vision blurred at the edges. A tremor in his hands that NEXUS couldn't suppress.
The mutation was accelerating.
And he had maybe a day left before it reached the point of no return.
Manila was larger than Ethan expected.
Not a city like Ura, but not the tiny farming hamlet Roman had complained about either. Hundreds of buildings clustered around a central square. Smoke rose from chimneys. The sounds of activity—voices, hammering, animals—filled the air.
And beyond the village, dominating the western horizon like a wall between earth and sky—
The Wall of Giants.
Ethan stopped walking, staring.
He had heard Dimitri's description. Had tried to imagine it.
Nothing had prepared him for the reality.
Trees didn't grow that large. Couldn't grow that large.
Each trunk was wider than a house—fifty meters across, maybe more. They rose so high that their tops disappeared into clouds. Their bark was dark gray, almost black, with patterns that seemed to shift in the fading light.
And they grew so close together that no gap existed between them. Root merged with root. Trunk pressed against trunk. A living barrier that stretched north and south as far as the eye could see.
That's what I have to cross.
That's where the wizards wait.
[ANALYZING STRUCTURE... BOTANICAL CLASSIFICATION: UNKNOWN. SIZE EXCEEDS ALL EARTH-BASED FLORA BY MULTIPLE ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE. POSSIBLE MAGICAL ENHANCEMENT OR NON-TERRESTRIAL SPECIES.]
"Impressive, isn't it?" Dimitri said quietly beside him.
Roman whistled low. "I thought you were exaggerating. I thought 'fifty meters wide' was old man hyperbole."
"I don't exaggerate about the Wall."
Dimitri's eyes were fixed on the massive trees, and for a moment he looked younger—like a child seeing wonder for the first time.
"I'm home," he whispered.
They descended into Manila as the twin suns set, painting the sky in shades of violet and gold.
The village was busier than it should have been for a settlement its size. Children ran through the streets. Families gathered around outdoor fires. Merchants had set up temporary stalls selling food, weapons, traveling supplies.
And everywhere—everywhere—there were other children who didn't belong to Manila.
Rich clothes. Noble bearing. Servants attending them. Tents pitched on the outskirts bearing family crests Ethan didn't recognize.
"The nobles have already arrived," Dimitri observed. "The families who believe their children have potential."
"How long have they been here?" Ethan asked.
"Could be days. Could be weeks. Some wealthy families come months in advance and wait, just to ensure they don't miss the red sky."
"Dimitri!"
The shout came from ahead—a man standing in the doorway of a modest stone house. He was perhaps sixty years old, stocky, with the same weathered features as Dimitri but fuller, healthier.
Dimitri froze.
"Carlos?"
The man's eyes widened. Then he ran forward, arms outstretched.
The two brothers collided in an embrace that made Roman look away awkwardly.
"Forty years," Carlos said, his voice breaking. "Forty years and I thought you were dead."
"Nearly was. Many times."
"But you're here. You're alive. You're home."
Dimitri pulled back, his eyes wet. "I'm free, Carlos. The chains are gone."
Carlos gripped his brother's shoulders, looking him over.
"You look terrible."
"I'm seventy-three and spent forty years in slavery. I look exactly as I should."
They laughed—a sound halfway between joy and grief.
Carlos's gaze shifted to Ethan and Roman.
"Your companions?"
"Roman," Dimitri gestured. "A fellow survivor. And this is Ethan. He's the reason we're alive."
Carlos studied Ethan with sharp eyes.
"Young, but you have the look of someone who's seen more than their years should allow."
Ethan met his gaze. "The world doesn't care about age."
A moment of silence. Then Carlos smiled.
"Well. Any friend of my brother is family. Come. You'll stay with me. I don't have much, but what I have is yours."
The house was small but clean. Two rooms—one for sleeping, one for everything else. Carlos lived alone. His wife had died years ago. His children had moved to larger cities seeking opportunity.
"I stayed because of the Wall," he said as he prepared a simple meal of bread, cheese, and stewed vegetables. "Someone from the family had to remain. To remember. To bear witness when the red sky comes."
"And it's coming soon," Dimitri said. "We're in the tenth year."
"Any day now," Carlos confirmed. "The village is ready. The children are gathering. Some have been here for weeks already."
Roman ate like a man who hadn't seen real food in months.
Ethan picked at his meal, his appetite gone. His head throbbed. His hands trembled slightly.
[HOST. MUTATION ACCELERATION DETECTED. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE REST.]
Not yet. I need information first.
"Carlos," Ethan said. "The children who are gathering. What families?"
Carlos sat back, considering.
"Every type. Nobles. Merchants. Even a few commoners who scraped together enough money to make the journey. All hoping their child has the potential."
He gestured toward the window.
"The King of Kolar sent his children—a prince and princess. Rumor is their family line traces back to a great wizard from centuries ago. If anyone has potential, it's them."
"What about others?"
"Let's see... House Dor sent a child. You know the Dor family?"
Roman's eyes widened. "The assassins?"
"The very same. Most feared killers in the Northern Kingdoms. If their child becomes a wizard..." He shook his head. "That's a terrifying thought."
"And?"
"House Glan. Warriors. The Duke himself came with his son. Big spectacle. Half the village turned out to watch their arrival."
Carlos chuckled.
"Though from what I hear, the boy doesn't want to go. Prefers sleeping to training. The Duke is forcing him."
Ethan filed away the information.
Nobles. Assassins. Warriors. Royalty.
All competing for the same chance I need.
Children born into power, seeking more power.
While I'm just trying to survive.
[OBSERVATION: HOST AGE WITHIN NORMAL RANGE FOR TRIAL PARTICIPANTS. HOWEVER, HOST LACKS NOBLE LINEAGE OR RECOGNIZED FAMILY NAME. ENTRY MAY STILL BE QUESTIONED ON BASIS OF ORIGIN.]
I'll deal with that when it happens.
After the meal, Ethan excused himself.
"Where are you going?" Roman asked.
"To prepare."
"For what?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Manila's market district was small but well-stocked—likely because of all the noble families passing through. Ethan found a weapons shop near the central square.
The shopkeeper—a grizzled man with burn scars on his arms—looked up as Ethan entered.
"Help you, young man?"
"I need weapons. Something for ranged combat. And a close-quarters blade."
The man nodded approvingly. "Smart. Most kids entering the Trial think magic will protect them. Forget that you have to survive long enough to reach the wizards first."
He gestured toward the back wall.
"Come on. Let's see what fits you."
The wall was lined with weapons of every type.
Swords. Spears. Axes. Bows.
And something Ethan had never seen before.
It looked like a crossbow, but larger. More complex. Multiple mechanisms Ethan didn't recognize. And most notably—a rotating cylinder that held not one bolt, but twelve.
"What is that?"
The shopkeeper grinned. "Repeating crossbow. Dwarven design, adapted by human smiths. Load twelve bolts, crank the mechanism, and it fires them one after another. Pull the trigger twelve times, get twelve shots. No reloading between."
[ANALYZING WEAPON DESIGN... MECHANICAL ADVANTAGE SYSTEM PROVIDES RAPID FIRE CAPABILITY. APPROXIMATE EARTH EQUIVALENT: SEMI-AUTOMATIC CROSSBOW. MEDIEVAL TECHNOLOGY BUT ADVANCED ENGINEERING.]
"How accurate?"
"Accurate enough at fifty meters. After that, you're gambling. But in a forest like the Wall? Fifty meters is more than you'll need."
"I'll take it. And bolts."
Ethan also selected a dagger—longer than the one he'd taken from the soldier in Ura. Balanced. Sharp. Simple.
The shopkeeper quoted a price.
Ethan pulled out the coins he'd taken from the fallen Morrow hunters. Blood money. But money nonetheless.
The transaction completed.
"Word of advice, boy," the shopkeeper said as Ethan turned to leave. "The Wall doesn't care about weapons. It cares about what's in here." He tapped his temple. "And here." He tapped his chest. "Courage and potential. That's what matters."
"Then the weapons are just insurance."
The man smiled. "You'll do fine. Good luck."
The central square of Manila had been transformed.
What was normally a market space had become a staging area. Families clustered in groups. Tents pitched around the edges. Children—dozens of them, maybe over a hundred—gathered in loose formations.
Some looked confident. Born into privilege, raised believing they were special.
Others looked terrified. Commoners who had shown some spark of potential and were now gambling everything on a chance at power.
Ethan walked through the crowd, observing.
[COUNTING... APPROXIMATELY 147 CHILDREN PRESENT. ESTIMATED AGE RANGE: 5-16 YEARS. HOST AGE: 16. WITHIN ACCEPTABLE RANGE BUT AT UPPER LIMIT.]
At least I'm not the oldest one here.
He felt eyes on him occasionally. Curious looks. But nothing like the stares an adult would have drawn.
Just another candidate among many.
Movement caught his attention.
A small figure—barely reaching Ethan's waist—was moving through the crowd.
A girl. Maybe three years old. Four at most.
She had dark hair tied back with a frayed ribbon. Her clothes were patched and worn. And she carried something folded carefully in her small arms.
A coat. Adult-sized. Well-made once, but now faded and stained.
She approached a merchant family, holding up the coat.
"Please," her voice was so quiet Ethan barely heard it. "I need to sell this. For food."
The merchant woman glanced down, then away.
"We're not buying."
The little girl moved to the next group.
"Please. It's my father's coat. It's good quality. Just a little food..."
They ignored her.
Ethan watched her try three more times.
Each rejection made her shoulders slump a little more.
She's too young. She can't be here for the Trial. She's just... hungry.
Something twisted in his chest.
The way she moved. The quiet desperation. The determination despite the fear.
Maya.
She reminds me of Maya. Before I left Earth. Before everything went wrong.
He walked over before he could stop himself.
"Excuse me."
The little girl looked up. Her eyes were huge. Dark brown. Exhausted.
"Are you selling that coat?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yes! It was my father's. He... he doesn't need it anymore. It's good. See?" She held it up. "Only a few patches."
Ethan crouched down to her level.
"How much?"
"Just... just enough for food. A loaf of bread, maybe. Or some cheese."
He pulled out more coins than the coat was worth. Far more.
"This enough?"
Her eyes went wide. "That's... that's too much."
"Consider it payment for the coat and a delivery service."
"Delivery?"
"I'm going to need someone to hold onto this for me until after the Trial. Think you can do that?"
She nodded so hard her ribbon nearly came loose.
Ethan handed her the coins.
She stared at them like they were treasures beyond imagining.
Then she looked up at him with those huge, desperate eyes.
"Mister... are you going into the forest? To see the wizard?"
"Yes."
"Could... could you take me with you?"
Ethan's chest tightened.
"You're too young for the Trial."
"But the wizard could help my mama. She's sick. Really sick. If I could ask the wizard to help her..."
She gripped his sleeve with tiny fingers.
"Please, mister. I'll be good. I'll be quiet. I just need to ask the wizard one thing. Please."
Ethan gently removed her hand from his sleeve.
"I can't take you into the forest. It's too dangerous."
"But—"
"No."
The word came out harsher than he intended.
The little girl flinched.
Then, slowly, tears began to well in her eyes. But she didn't cry. She just nodded.
"Okay."
She clutched the coins and walked away, heading toward a group of other young children gathered near the edge of the square.
Ethan watched her go.
I can't save everyone.
I can barely save myself.
[HOST EMOTIONAL STATE: ELEVATED STRESS. RECOMMENDATION—]
Don't.
[...UNDERSTOOD.]
A commotion drew his attention.
The crowd was shifting, parting. People were kneeling.
From the main road into Manila, a procession approached.
Royal guards in crimson armor. A carriage of polished wood and gold leaf. Horses with braided manes.
The carriage stopped at the edge of the square.
The door opened.
Two figures stepped out.
A boy and a girl, both perhaps fourteen years old.
The boy wore fine clothes of deep blue and silver. His hair was blonde, tied back in a traditional warrior's knot. His bearing was straight. Confident. The look of someone who had never doubted his place in the world.
The girl beside him was equally striking. Dark hair cascading over shoulders clothed in green and gold silk. Her eyes scanned the crowd with intelligence and calculation.
Everyone in the square knelt.
Everyone except Ethan.
Roman appeared from somewhere and yanked him down by the arm. "Kneel, you idiot! That's royalty!"
Dimitri's voice hissed beside him. "The Prince and Princess of Kolar. House Koga. It's said their ancestor five generations back was one of the greatest wizards to ever leave the Wall."
"They have wizard blood?" Ethan whispered.
"If the rumors are true. Which means they have the highest chance of any child here to pass the Trial."
[ANALYZING SUBJECTS... CONFIDENT BODY LANGUAGE. SUPERIOR PHYSICAL CONDITIONING. LIKELY EXTENSIVE COMBAT AND ACADEMIC TRAINING. ASSESSMENT: FORMIDABLE COMPETITORS.]
The Prince's eyes swept across the kneeling crowd.
They paused on Ethan.
For just a moment, their gazes locked.
The Prince's expression shifted slightly—curiosity? Recognition of another competitor?
Then he looked away.
The royal siblings moved toward a prepared tent area, their guards following.
The crowd slowly rose.
"Great," Roman muttered. "Royalty with wizard blood. This just keeps getting better."
But Ethan wasn't looking at the royals anymore.
He was looking at a boy standing near the edge of the square.
Tall for his age. Maybe sixteen like Ethan. Lean. Unremarkable clothes. Unremarkable appearance.
Except for the way he was staring at Ethan.
Not casual observation. Not curiosity.
Assessment.
Like a predator sizing up potential prey.
Ethan met the boy's gaze.
The boy didn't look away. Didn't smile. Didn't acknowledge the stare.
Just... watched.
[DETECTED SUSTAINED VISUAL ATTENTION FROM UNKNOWN SUBJECT. POTENTIAL THREAT ASSESSMENT IN PROGRESS.]
Noted.
After several long seconds, the boy finally looked away, melting back into the crowd.
"Did you see that?" Ethan asked quietly.
"See what?" Roman glanced around.
"Nothing. Never mind."
More arrivals followed.
A carriage bearing the crest of House Dor—a black dagger on red background. A single child emerged. A girl, perhaps twelve, with cold eyes and movements so precise they looked rehearsed.
Assassin training, Ethan realized. She moves like she's been taught to kill since she could walk.
Another procession—this one with wagons bearing the wolf sigil of House Glan.
A large man stepped out first—broad-shouldered, scarred, every inch a warrior. The Duke.
And behind him, a boy who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Father, I love you," the boy—Glan—said dramatically. "I love our family. I love our home. Why must I leave all this to wander into a death forest?"
The Duke's face darkened. "You love your laziness and your bed! Nothing more!"
"Father, such cruelty—"
"If you try to come back before completing the Trial, I swear I will throw you into slavery myself!"
Glan clutched his chest. "How can you say such things?"
"Because I know you, boy. You're the smartest person I've ever met. Brilliant mind. Perfect memory. Natural talent for strategy and magic theory."
The Duke gripped his son's shoulder.
"And you waste it all sleeping until noon and avoiding responsibility. This family needs a wizard, Glan. We need the power and prestige. You're our only hope."
He softened slightly.
"Please. Do this. For all of us."
Glan sighed dramatically.
"Fine. But when I return as a powerful wizard, I'm enchanting my bed to be even more comfortable."
"Deal."
The crowd chuckled.
Even Ethan found himself almost smiling.
At least some of these nobles have personality.
The arrivals continued for another hour.
Children from merchant families. Minor nobility. A few commoners who had sold everything they owned for the chance.
Groups began to form naturally.
The noble children clustered together—shared class, shared expectations.
The commoners formed their own smaller groups, nervous and uncertain.
And scattered throughout, individual children who didn't fit anywhere. Too proud to join the commoners. Too poor to approach the nobles.
Ethan saw the little girl—Nira, he'd heard someone call her—standing with a group of young children near the eastern edge of the square.
She looked terrified.
Her hands kept fidgeting with the coins he'd given her.
The twin suns were setting now.
The violet sky deepened toward purple.
And then—
Someone screamed.
"LOOK! THE SKY!"
Every eye turned upward.
The western horizon—the direction of the Wall—was changing.
Violet bleeding to pink.
Pink darkening to rose.
Rose deepening to crimson.
Red.
Deep, blood red.
It spread across the sky like ink in water, consuming the violet, transforming the heavens.
The entire sky above Manila turned the color of fresh blood.
Silence fell.
Absolute. Total.
Even the youngest children stopped fidgeting.
For three heartbeats, no one moved.
Then—
A voice rang out. One of the village elders, standing on a platform at the square's center.
"THE RED SKY HAS COME! THE TRIAL BEGINS!"
The children moved.
As one mass, they surged toward the western edge of Manila.
Toward the Wall of Giants.
Families shouted final goodbyes. Some children cried. Others ran eagerly. Parents blessed their children or threatened them or simply watched in silence.
Ethan stood still for a moment, looking up at the crimson sky.
[ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENON CONFIRMED. COLOR WAVELENGTH SHIFT DETECTED. CAUSE: UNKNOWN. MAGICAL ENERGY SIGNATURES... POSSIBLE BUT UNCONFIRMABLE WITH CURRENT SENSOR LIMITATIONS.]
It's real.
The Trial is beginning.
And I have maybe twelve hours before the mutation ends me.
He adjusted the repeating crossbow strapped to his back. Checked the dagger at his hip.
Around him, children streamed toward the Wall.
Nobles in fine clothes. Commoners in patched tunics. Assassins moving like shadows. Warriors marching with purpose. Royalty walking with heads held high.
And one sixteen-year-old boy from Earth, with nanobots in his blood and a sister waiting impossibly far away.
The Wall of Giants loomed ahead, massive beyond comprehension.
The red sky burned overhead.
And somewhere beyond that living barrier, wizards waited.
Ethan walked forward.
Not because he expected to succeed.
Not because he believed he was special.
But because stopping meant dying.
And he had promised Maya he would come back.
I'm still trying, Maya.
I'm still fighting.
The forest waited.
The Trial had begun.