Sai moved deeper into the fortress, carefully studying every turn, every staircase, every crack in the ancient stones. The walls were high, cold, and the very air seemed saturated with darkness, time, and history—a history shaped by its inhabitants, including that white-haired girl with red eyes.
She emerged from the shadow of a staircase, stepping lightly on the stone as if it were her natural place. A cigarette smoldered once more between her fingers, leaving a thin trail of smoke.
"Have you figured it out yet, stranger?" Her voice was soft, yet sharp. "All humans are the same. They barely change. They wait for salvation, hope for a miracle, for someone from above."
Sai didn't answer immediately, assessing the space around him, checking for hidden traps. His new eyes, hidden behind the mask, registered every movement. He finally spoke, without raising his voice, but with inner resolve:
"What's the point of saving people if, even after all the monsters are gone, they'll still fight amongst themselves? Battle for power, for resources, for ideals they don't even fully understand?" His voice was even, devoid of emotion. "Among all the... garbage on this planet now, the greatest monsters are humans."
The girl smirked slowly, a playful twist to her lips. She leaned forward, almost touching the floor with her cigarette, and whispered softly:
"An interesting thought. But that means you aren't seeking salvation... you're seeking meaning. Or confirmation that your strength has value."
Sai gave a slight nod. He wasn't trying to convince her of anything, didn't want an argument—he was simply stating a fact. Internally, he analyzed her every gesture, every word. She was playing, observing, testing him.
"Then let's play," she said, exhaling smoke sharply. "Do you think you can handle me? The entire fortress?"
"I'm not looking for a fight," Sai said calmly. "I want to understand. If this is a game... I will learn its rules."
Her eyes flashed brighter, as if this answer intrigued her. She slapped her palm against the stone, creating a soft yet audible sound.
"Good," she said, playing with her voice, "then let's start with something simple: observe and act. Everything you do will be tested. I want to see who you really are."
Sai took a step towards the central hall, where the floor was covered in old sand, stone columns stretched towards the ceiling, and sparse light from cracks created a contrast of shadows. His every step was calculated, every sound restrained.
"You..." she moved closer, almost touching the shadow of his figure, "...think you can hold your own here? That you can remain indifferent amidst all this chaos, pain, and death?"
Sai stopped, crossing his arms behind his back. His voice was quiet, even, but firm:
"I've already seen death, destruction, and injustice. I've seen a world crumbling on its own. It doesn't frighten me. I want to understand the laws of this new world to use them for my own purposes."
She smirked, flicking the cigarette away. Her red eyes burned with curiosity, but also with respect.
"Alright," she said, "let's see how long your philosophy holds when real trials begin. You're not the first to think you can do without emotions. But I warn you: no one here forgives weakness."
Sai stepped further into the hall, assessing all cover and possible routes. He didn't care about fear—in this new body, this new essence, fear had vanished. Only calculation, analysis, and readiness to act remained.
"Then let the games begin," he said quietly to himself. "Let her test me. Let this world show who is stronger."
The girl ascended the steps, watching his every move. Her laughter echoed through the hall, light as a bell, yet sharp as a hissing blade.
"Don't think it will be easy," she uttered, "but I'm sure you'll surprise me. All you need to do is show yourself... and I will see the truth."
Sai continued moving through the hall, listening to every sound, analyzing the shadows, evaluating possibilities. He was no longer human in the conventional sense—his body and mind were a tool, an instrument, ready for any trial.
The girl remained in place, calmly observing as Sai delved into the first of her "games." And for the first time since his arrival at the fortress, he felt that the threat wasn't physical—the threat was the intellectual game itself, the observation and the trial.
"Interesting," she muttered to herself, "how long can he maintain his cold reason... and what will happen when pain appears."
Sai stepped further. The light emanating from cracks in the walls cast long shadows, and each of his steps cast a silhouette resembling a black, moving shadow. He knew: the trials were only beginning, but he was now fully prepared to face them.
The Fortress of Blood had revealed its first secrets. And the game had begun.
---
Sai stood on the semi-basement level of the central hall, leaning against the cold wall. His body was ready to react instantly, every movement precise and flawless. He could barely support himself on his feet, his muscles ached, and the new sensations from his own essence created a strange feeling of dissonance: he was stronger, but he felt limits he had never known before.
"Welcome to the Trials of Shadow," the girl's voice echoed softly, almost a whisper, from the walls. "Those who cannot endure here... will disappear."
Sai peered into the hall's gloom. Inside, the walls seemed alive: shadows writhed and distorted, and every crack in the stone could hide an enemy or a trap. The floor was covered in a layer of ash and sand mixed with dried blood—all of it gave the feeling of a living nightmare.
"What kind of game is this?" he asked quietly, to himself.
"Those who doubt," the girl answered, appearing from behind the columns with a slight twist of the cigarette in her fingers, "have already lost."
The game was simple, if one could call it that: Sai had to cross the hall, where every step, every movement was tracked by the fortress's magical essence. Shadows merged with the stones, columns, and ceiling, and any wrong move could trigger an attack.
He began to move. The first step—light, almost silent. The second—even more cautious. Each movement was difficult, as his body was still adapting to the new boundaries of strength and darkness. His heart didn't beat, but internal bodily impulses signaled strain: his muscles screamed, the energy of his dark essence seethed within.
"Why do humans always hope?" the girl's whisper followed him. "Why do they hope in others, and not in themselves?"
"I'm not like that," Sai replied calmly, without turning. "I decide for myself what to do."
"We'll see," her voice was soft as a knife's edge, "if you can hold on when everything around you starts to crush you."
Suddenly, the walls began to move. Stones shuddered, cracks spread, and shadows emerged from them—fast, sharp, almost invisible. Sai reacted instantly, dodging, using every centimeter of his body, every moment of concentration. He felt magical impulses and physical movements simultaneously, as if the darkness itself had become part of his body.
"Good..." he muttered inwardly, assessing every shadow, every sound. "Hold on... hold on and keep going."
The shadows grew more aggressive with each second. Some tried to grab him, others suddenly appeared before his eyes, forcing him to make sharp movements to avoid a blow. His body was already at its limit, but his mind remained cold, methodical.
"Almost..." he told himself, "almost. Don't stop."
The girl watched his every move. Her cigarette was almost burnt out, but her red eyes glowed, reflecting her excitement. She saw Sai struggling with the darkness, striving to hold on, how each of his movements was careful and precise.
"You're not bad..." she said quietly. "But this is only the beginning. You haven't yet seen what it means to lose here."
Suddenly, the floor beneath his feet trembled, and thick smoke mixed with cold poured from the cracks. The shadows began to change shape, acquiring almost physical form. One tried to strike his chest, another his leg. Sai reached for his revolvers, but his fingers barely moved—his body demanded immense concentration.
"Hold on," he mentally told himself. "Just hold on..."
He performed a series of steps—dodging, jumping, rolling. Each movement felt like dancing with his own death. The shadows tried to knock him down, provoke a panicked reaction, but Sai was above fear.
"You... are special," her voice came from the staircase. "Not human. Not entirely human. Your eyes see differently, your body acts differently. But can you remain yourself here?"
He froze for a moment. An inner voice, quiet and cold, said: 'The point is not to give up.' Sai gripped the revolvers and continued moving, relying on the new sensations of his body, the new reflexes granted by his "shadow core."
Every step was difficult, but he advanced. Every moment—a trial, every second—a struggle. The shadows advanced relentlessly, but Sai was almost a shadow himself. He understood that losing here would mean the end—not physical, but spiritual.
And finally, he reached the end of the hall. A wide door leading to the fortress's open courtyard lay before him. Sai stopped, breathing heavily—though breathing was merely a formality, his body signaled fatigue. He glanced back into the gloom, realizing: he had passed the first level of the game.
"You held on..." the girl said, jumping down from a column and leaning on the windowsill. "But the game is only beginning. In the Trials of Shadow, there is no end."
Sai looked at her calmly, closing his eyes for a moment. He was no longer human, but not a monster either. He was himself, as much as he could be now, with new strength, a new essence, and a new understanding.
"Let it be..." he said quietly. "Let it be what it will be."