The ruins breathed like a living thing. Every step forward carried echoes, every rune flickered as if watching. Reinhardt's group moved with sharpened focus, the trial pressing heavier with each corridor.
They reached a wide chamber—pillars shattered, roots curling through cracked stone. At the center stood a pedestal, a faint light pulsing from the crystal atop it.
But they weren't the first to arrive.
"Reinhardt."
The voice carried a low challenge. Callen emerged from the opposite passage, his team at his back—sharpened, confident, dangerous. The torchlight carved shadows across his sharp features, his eyes holding no warmth.
For a moment, silence stretched between the two groups. Then Callen's smirk cut it.
"So. The forgotten orphan leads a team now? How amusing."
Alden bristled, hand tightening on his axe. Elira shifted her spear forward, her stance already guarding Reinhardt. Lyra, though silent, raised her staff slightly—ready for what would come.
Reinhardt's voice was calm. "Step aside, Callen. This isn't the place."
"On the contrary." Callen's gaze flicked toward the crystal. "This is exactly the place. The Trial of Ascension doesn't just test strength—it crowns the worthy. And you…" he gestured mockingly, "…you're nothing more than a shadow playing hero."
The air thickened. Runes along the walls flared, reacting to the hostility. The trial was listening.
Elira's eyes darted to Reinhardt, her tone edged with warning. "If we fight here, the ruins themselves might—"
Too late.
Callen drew his blade in a flash, the steel singing as it clashed against Reinhardt's sword. Sparks burst, echoing against stone.
The chamber roared awake. The crystal pulsed violently, runes blazing as the guardians of the ruins stirred once more—larger, more brutal than before.
Both teams were caught.
"Damn it!" Alden growled. "We don't have time for this!"
Reinhardt shoved Callen back, locking eyes with him. "You want to prove yourself? Survive this first."
The guardians descended—towering constructs with molten cores, their footsteps shaking the chamber.
And so, enemies by pride and circumstance, the two teams fought side by side. Steel and magic clashed against stone titans, grudges momentarily buried under the weight of survival.
Reinhardt's blade cut with memory-fueled precision, Elira moved like lightning at his side, Alden crushed cores with bone-shaking strikes, and Lyra's hymns wrapped them in light.
Across the chaos, Callen fought with raw ferocity, his team disciplined and relentless. Yet even he spared a fleeting glance at Reinhardt—measuring, comparing.
When the last guardian collapsed, silence returned, broken only by heavy breaths and the hiss of settling dust.
The crystal still pulsed faintly, waiting.
Reinhardt lowered his blade, sweat dripping down his brow. His gaze met Callen's once more—this time without words, only the weight of unspoken rivalry.
It wasn't over.
It had only just begun.