Akira walked a step behind Sebastian, saying nothing.
Their footsteps echoed through the vast hallway — each tap swallowed by marble walls carved with grand murals of battles he knew nothing about. Sunlight shimmered through towering stained-glass windows, casting colored patterns across his clothes like painted shackles.
Servants bowed as Sebastian passed, while looking at Akira in awe.
meanwhile, he kept looking down. The floors were polished so perfectly he could see his reflection — a stranger with no power, dressed nicely only for display. Every corridor they entered seemed more extravagant than the last: gold-lined pillars, chandeliers bigger than his room back home, and tapestries showing a king crowned by a goddess he'd never heard of.
No matter where he looked, soldiers stood watch. Walls, corners, balconies — vigilant eyes everywhere.
Akira clenched his fist inside his sleeve.
So this is a castle…No. This is the kingdom's pride — and his prison.
At last they arrived ,he slowed his pace, distracted by the bustling courtyard visible through an open archway: knights training, some through sparring, some through exercising and some with dummies.
Sebastian stopped and turned slightly.
"Master Akira? This way, please." His polite tone not hiding the sudden shift in his demeanor.
Akira stunned but, nodded stiffly and followed again.
A sharp command rang out across the courtyard — a single word barked like thunder.
"Halt."
Every knight and trainee froze instantly. The silence that followed was unnervingly absolute.
Akira's eyes drifted toward the source.
A man stood at the center of the courtyard, back turned. No flashy armor. No medals. Just a simple dark coat draped over broad shoulders . His gray hair was tied loosely, strands falling to the side as a breeze passed through.
When he finally turned, Akira felt his breath catch.
A scar ran from the man's temple to the edge of his jaw — the kind earned in a place where hesitation meant death. His expression was unreadable, eyes steady and unshakable. Nothing about him seemed extraordinary… except the way the entire courtyard held its breath around him.
Sebastian stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Commander Raizen. I have brought him."
Raizen's gaze slid to Akira. No awe. No respect. No fear. Just quiet measuring.
Akira swallowed hard.
Raizen didn't move closer, yet Akira felt the pressure of that stare.
"…We will begin soon," Sebastian translated what Raizen said, voice low and simple. Not a threat. Not a promise. Just a fact.
Then, without another word, he turned his back and addressed the soldiers again.
Raizen gave one final order to the soldiers, then signaled Sebastian and Akira to follow him to a more secluded section of the courtyard. Weapons of all types lined the walls — swords, bows, shields, spears — their edges gleaming like cold warnings.
Akira's steps slowed.
Tests…how cliche
Raizen stopped in an open training circle — the packed dirt marked with countless footprints and dried scorch marks.
Raizen raised a single finger. Sebastian's voice followed, calm and precise:"Master Akira… Potential. Choose a weapon."
Without hesitation, Akira's eyes went to the bows. Archery had been his refuge on Earth — a place where focus and control mattered. He stepped forward, hands shaking slightly, and picked one up. The wood felt familiar in his grip, grounding him amidst the chaos of this new world.
He turned to face the commander.
And the world tilted.
A sudden dizziness hit him, a strange, tight pressure in his chest. His stomach dropped, his knees weakening. Panic surged, raw and primal. Akira looked down — and froze.
A jagged, dark hole gaped through his chest. Blood poured freely, streaming down his body and dripping onto the ground. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Every breath was agony.
No… no, this can't be… I'm… dying…
He sank to his knees, trembling, eyes wide. He looked up — and the world around him was sharp, bright, normal. The courtyard, the soldiers, the air… nothing had changed. His chest ached faintly, but there was no hole. No blood.
Akira's throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask what had just happened —
But then he saw it.
Across from him, kneeling on the ground, was his own body — head severed, lifeless.
His vision blurred, nausea rising in waves.
Before he could comprehend, the scene twisted. His legs were crushed under invisible force, bone snapping with a sickening crack. He gasped, clutching them, only for the floor to vanish beneath him — and he plummeted into darkness, the wind screaming in his ears.
He landed hard. Pain erupted in his ribs as though a hundred fists struck at once. Blood again coated his hands. This can't be real… it can't!
The hallucinations kept coming. A spear thrust through his chest. Blades slashed across his arms. He watched his lifeless body being dismembered, burned, drowned — each scene more vivid, more horrifying than the last. His mind screamed, his body shook, but still, he was alive.
Somewhere inside his mind, a voice whispered:
You decide if this ends you.
Akira's breath came in ragged gasps. His heart hammered. He wanted to collapse. To accept it. To give in. Every instinct screamed for surrender.
No.
Clenching his fists, teeth gritted, he forced his mind to anchor itself in one thought:
I refuse to die. Not here. Not now.
The hallucinations intensified, clawing at his senses, but he held fast. One by one, the visions shattered against the unyielding resolve inside him. The spear shattered, the fire died, the headless body crumbled to dust.
Finally, the courtyard reassembled. Soldiers resumed training, sunlight touched his skin, and the bow felt solid and real in his hands. His chest still throbbed faintly, but the paralyzing terror had ebbed.
Akira dropped to one knee, trembling, sweat pouring down his face. Every fiber of his being aching.
Sebastian's calm voice broke the silence:"The commander… says your mind is unyielding. Enough to survive this trial."
Akira looked up. Raizen's eyes met his — still unreadable, still calculating — but now, subtly, he acknowledged the outcome.
Akira exhaled shakily, gripping his bow tighter. One truth settled into his mind, cold and unwavering:
If the commander could simulate death this perfectly, anything could happen. But I will not break. Not ever.
The hallucination had ended. But Akira understood — the real hell was only beginning.