With Vi and Claggor grabbing his arms and hauling him back to safety, Mylo finally managed to scramble fully onto the platform. He collapsed onto his back, breathing hard, his heart hammering in his chest like it was trying to escape.
"Okay," he gasped between breaths, staring up at the impossible geometry of the Phantom Temple's ceiling. "I get it now. I understand what they meant about the platforms disappearing."
The realization had hit all of them simultaneously, a cold understanding that made the training exercise suddenly much more serious. The platforms weren't just aesthetic features or convenient places to stand—they were on a timer. Miss too many shots, take too long to complete the objective, and the ground beneath your feet would literally vanish.
"Don't just sit there!" Claggor urged, glancing down at his own platform. The glowing had intensified, the light pulsing faster and faster with each passing second. "If we don't deal with these aircraft quickly, we're going to run out of time and platforms!"
He was doing the math in his head, and the numbers weren't good. They'd already lost one platform completely. Several others were flickering at dangerous speeds. And with their current accuracy—or lack thereof—they'd probably lose more platforms before they managed to shoot down all the targets.
"Right, right!" Mylo scrambled to his feet, grabbing his shotgun with renewed determination. The terror of nearly falling into infinite void had done wonders for his motivation. "I really, really don't want to die in this weird place. We need to get better at shooting, like, right now."
Bang bang bang—
Gunfire echoed through the Phantom Temple as all three of them opened fire with renewed intensity. They were trying, genuinely trying, to hit those fast-moving aircraft. Tracking the targets, leading their shots, attempting to predict movement patterns.
But hitting them was hard. The aircraft moved with impossible agility, performing aerial maneuvers that defied physics. Just when you thought you had a shot lined up, the target would juke sideways or drop altitude or accelerate away.
Outside the Phantom Temple, in the physical training room, Powder and Ekko stood staring at the spot where their friends had been standing moments before. One second Vi, Mylo, and Claggor had been there, solid and real. The next, they'd vanished into thin air, consumed by Marcus's light curtain.
"Where did they go?" Powder asked, a note of worry in her voice despite knowing Marcus wouldn't actually hurt them. "What happened to them?"
"They're fine," Marcus said, reappearing in the room with a casual wave of his hand. Something materialized in front of him—a small crystalline sphere that pulsed with soft light. "They're inside the Phantom Temple, which exists within the Intelligence Core. Want to see?"
He held up the sphere. It was no larger than his palm, an intricate piece of technology that seemed to contain entire dimensions within its crystalline structure.
Powder and Ekko stared at the Intelligence Core in silence. This was the device Marcus had promised to Zaun—the technological heart that would manage the city's systems, coordinate infrastructure, process information faster than any human mind could manage. But Zaun's transformation wasn't complete yet, so the Core remained in Marcus's custody for safekeeping.
"How did three full-sized people fit inside something that small?" Ekko asked, his engineering mind struggling with the spatial impossibility. He walked around the sphere, examining it from different angles. "Vi, Mylo, and Claggor are all bigger than this thing. Significantly bigger. It doesn't make sense."
"Small?" Marcus laughed, genuinely amused. It was apparently the first time anyone had called an Intelligence Core small. "Is that what you think? Then let me show you something."
He made a gesture, channeling energy into the sphere. Immediately, the Core began to expand. And expand. And expand.
In seconds, the palm-sized object had grown to the size of a person. Then a building. Then it kept growing until it dominated the entire training room, a massive crystalline structure that seemed to contain infinite complexity within its faceted surfaces.
"Oh my god," Ekko breathed, craning his neck to look up at the transformed Core. "That's... that's enormous. This was inside that little sphere?"
"The true form of an Intelligence Core is massive," Marcus explained, clearly enjoying their reactions. "And this isn't even close to full size. When you enter the Core's data landscape—the actual digital space inside—it's comparable to a sun in scale. Infinite virtual environments, unlimited processing power, reality simulation capabilities that can create entire worlds."
Powder swallowed hard, finally understanding how Vi and the others could be "inside" something that had seemed so small. If the Core could contain spaces equivalent to stars...
"Can we see them?" Powder asked. "Watch what they're doing?"
"Of course. This might become your training platform eventually too, so you should see how it works."
A beam of light shot from the Intelligence Core, projecting a holographic display into the air. The image showed Vi, Mylo, and Claggor in the Phantom Temple, jumping between platforms while firing their shotguns at the darting aircraft with varying degrees of success.
Which is to say: not much success at all.
"Why do they look so anxious?" Powder asked, studying the footage with a critical eye. "They should slow down, take their time, line up proper shots instead of just spraying and praying. But they're acting like something's chasing them."
She watched for another minute, analyzing the scene, and then she noticed the detail that explained everything.
"The platforms are disappearing," she said quietly. "Look—every time they step on a new platform, it starts flickering. The glow gets faster and faster until—" She pointed at the screen just as one platform winked out of existence entirely. "Until it's gone. They're racing against time."
"Exactly," Marcus confirmed. "The Temple is teaching them to perform under pressure. It's not enough to hit targets when you're calm and relaxed. Real combat situations are stressful, chaotic, time-sensitive. You need to be able to shoot accurately while terrified, exhausted, and running out of options."
"That seems really dangerous," Powder said, concern creeping into her voice. "If they fall off..."
"If they fall, they'll reappear on a new platform after a brief period," Marcus interrupted gently. "There's no actual danger of injury or death. However—" His tone became more serious. "—the feeling of falling to your death doesn't disappear. The psychological experience, the terror, the moment of impact... all of that remains in their memory. The Phantom Temple doesn't harm the body, but it doesn't shield the mind."
Powder and Ekko both nodded slowly, understanding the implications. It was safe training in terms of physical injury, but psychologically challenging. You could fail as many times as needed to learn, but each failure would feel completely real.
"So they're fine," Ekko said, "but they're probably terrified."
"Appropriately terrified," Marcus corrected with a slight smile. "Fear is an excellent motivator for rapid skill development."
They continued watching the holographic display, observing Vi's team struggle with the aerial targets. The improvement was gradual but noticeable—their shots were getting slightly closer, their predictions slightly better. Fear of falling was apparently a powerful teacher.
The training room door suddenly swung open, and Vander and Silco entered mid-conversation. They stopped short when they saw the massive Intelligence Core and the holographic projection.
"Marcus, we wanted to ask you about—" Vander started, then paused. "What is all this?"
"The Phantom Temple," Marcus explained casually, gesturing at the display. "It's a training environment inside the Intelligence Core. One of many functions the Core can perform. Right now, Vi and her friends are learning marksmanship the hard way."
Both men moved closer to examine the projection. They watched in silence for several minutes, taking in the desperate combat exercise, the disappearing platforms, the increasing panic as the safe spaces dwindled.
"The platforms are vanishing," Silco observed after a while. His tone was analytical rather than concerned—he'd clearly assessed that this was deliberate design rather than malfunction.
"They are," Marcus confirmed. "But before you worry, understand that I'm not trying to kill anyone. The Temple is perfectly safe, even if it doesn't feel that way to the participants."
Vander glanced at Powder and Ekko, noting their calm expressions. If the kids weren't worried, then Vi was probably fine. He relaxed slightly.
"Anyway," Silco said, pulling his attention back to his original purpose, "we came to discuss something with you, but..." He exchanged a glance with Vander. "I think we might have just discovered a better solution to our problem."
"Tell me," Marcus said, intrigued. "Maybe I can offer suggestions."
"We were going to ask if you had ideas for revenue generation using the energy field," Vander explained. "Zaun needs sustainable income sources beyond just selling Singed's potions. But seeing this Phantom Temple... it gave us an idea."
Silco picked up the thread: "Using the Temple purely for training seems wasteful when it could serve multiple purposes. What if we converted it into a battle platform? A place where people could compete, test their skills, settle disputes in controlled environments. It could become a signature attraction for Zaun—something that brings visitors and generates income."
Marcus's eyes lit up. His thinking had been limited—he'd been viewing the Phantom Temple primarily as a training tool for his students. But Silco's suggestion opened up entirely new possibilities.
A battle platform. A competitive arena. Something like... Summoner's Rift.
The concept crystallized in Marcus's mind instantly. The Phantom Temple could be converted into a MOBA-style battleground where teams competed in structured combat scenarios. Not just for training, but for entertainment, for conflict resolution, for allowing ordinary people to experience power they'd never have access to in real life.
"That's an excellent idea," Marcus said, genuine enthusiasm in his voice. "Give me a few days to implement it. I'll create something special."
The possibilities were enormous. Most people in this world were powerless—ordinary humans with no magic, no special abilities, no way to defend themselves against the truly dangerous beings that walked the planet. But in the Phantom Temple, everyone could be a hero. Everyone could wield power, experience combat, test themselves against others in a completely fair environment where skill and strategy mattered more than accidents of birth.
And if people wanted to share their personal combat data, that information could be captured and transformed into playable hero units for others to use. Imagine fighting as Ashe, or Darius, or any of the legendary warriors whose skills had been recorded...
The commercial applications were staggering. People would pay for access. Tournaments could be organized. Betting, sponsorships, entertainment value—the Battle Platform would be a cultural phenomenon.
Marcus looked at Vander and Silco with new appreciation. "Your thinking is sound. This will help Zaun's development significantly."
One week later, a crowd had gathered outside Marcus's quarters. Everyone who was anyone in Zaun's new leadership had received the summons—a message from Marcus saying he had something to show them that would "promote Zaun's development in unprecedented ways."
The door opened, and Marcus emerged with a confident smile.
"Is everyone here?" He scanned the crowd, noting faces: Vander, Silco, Sevika, Victor, Singed, Benzo, Vi, Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Ekko. Good. "Then let me show you something designed specifically to elevate Zaun to new heights."
The Intelligence Core activated instantly, surrounding everyone in light. Reality twisted, space compressed, and—
They appeared floating above a canyon.
A beautiful canyon, filled with lush vegetation despite the impossible geometry of its construction. Rivers flowed upward in some places, waterfalls defied gravity, forests grew on walls that should have been vertical. It was simultaneously natural and artificial, organic and constructed, real and virtual.
"Welcome to Phantom Canyon," Marcus announced, his voice carrying easily in the strange acoustic space. "Here, you can do anything you cannot do in the real world. Experience any power, test any strategy, settle any dispute without permanent consequences."
He gestured toward the landscape below. "The Canyon is divided into two camps—Red and Blue. Red occupies the upper right territory, Blue claims the lower left. You will now choose your allegiance."
Two options materialized in front of each person—a red button on the right, blue on the left.
Ding Ding Ding~
The sound of selections chimed through the air. Marcus watched with amusement as the divisions formed exactly as he'd predicted. Vander and Silco chose opposite sides—of course they did, unable to resist the competitive instinct even in a demonstration. Everyone else split along predictable loyalty lines.
Vander's Blue Team: Benzo, Vi, Mylo, Claggor Silco's Red Team: Singed, Victor, Sevika, and one of Silco's most loyal enforcers
"Now that you've chosen camps," Marcus continued, "you'll select your fighting style and prepare for battle."
Ten beams of light descended from above, enveloping each participant. Holographic interfaces appeared before them, displaying options:
ARCHER - Long-range precision attacks
WARRIOR - Unmatched close combat prowess
GUARDIAN - Damage resistance and protection
MAGE - Magical ranged abilities SUPPORT - Buff allies and debuff enemies
RANGER - Speed and flexibility
Everyone hesitated, studying the choices, considering which role matched their strengths or interests. Then, one by one, they made their selections.
The moment each person confirmed their choice, they transformed into streams of light and shot downward, materializing on their respective spawn platforms.
"The location where you now stand is called the Spawn Platform," Marcus's voice echoed across the Canyon. "It will replenish your stamina and energy when you return here. If your health is depleted in combat, you'll respawn here after a waiting period. Energy is required to use special abilities—I call them 'skills.' Without energy, you're limited to basic attacks."
He paused, letting them absorb the information, then continued: "Your objective is simple: defeat your opponents, break into their base, and destroy their Nexus Crystal. The first team to destroy the enemy Nexus wins."
A massive bell chimed across the Canyon, its deep tone resonating through earth and air alike.
"The battle begins... NOW!"
The barriers containing each team on their platforms dissolved instantly.
Everyone surged forward, rushing out of their spawn points toward the three paths visible ahead. But they stopped at the edge of their base territory, suddenly confronted with a strategic decision they hadn't anticipated.
Three roads. Upper lane, middle lane, lower lane. Which route should they take?
After a moment of silence, both Vander and Silco independently issued the same order: "Middle lane. Everyone, straight up the center."
The logic was sound. They'd all seen the Canyon layout when they were floating above it moments ago. The middle lane was the most direct route between bases—the fastest way to reach the enemy. And since this was a demonstration battle, aggression made sense. No point in elaborate strategy when the goal was to see what this system could do.
Both teams sprinted down the middle lane at full speed, unworried about stamina since the Phantom Temple's systems would manage fatigue for them. They could run indefinitely if needed.
Outside the Canyon, watching through another holographic projection, Powder and Ekko were practically vibrating with excitement.
"This is amazing!" Powder shouted, pumping her fist in the air. "Look at them go! Vi's going to crush those guys!"
"Silco's team has better tactical formation though," Ekko countered, studying the positioning. "See how Sevika is taking point while Victor hangs back? That's smart defensive structure."
Their commentary was drowned out by their own competing cheers as the two teams drew closer to each other, approaching the center point of the middle lane where they would inevitably collide.
Vander's team reached the midpoint first, taking aggressive positions. Energy blades erupted from Vander's gauntlets, crackling with blue power. Beside him, Claggor raised his shield defensively, ready to intercept any attack aimed at his teammates. Behind the defensive line, Vi's fists blazed with light, practically trembling with anticipation. Mylo had climbed onto a slightly elevated position, staff in hand, scanning for the enemy approach. And Benzo—surprisingly—looked like an aggressive butcher, wielding two machetes that seemed far too large and brutal for the friendly tavern owner everyone knew.
They radiated fighting spirit, like warriors who'd been holding back too long and were finally being given permission to cut loose.
Silco's team emerged from the opposite direction, moving with calculated precision. Silco himself looked almost aristocratic despite the combat situation, his cane held elegantly as arcane energy gathered at its tip. Victor walked beside him, clutching a mechanical scepter that hummed with electrical charge. Singed was festooned with potion bottles—dozens of them clinking as he moved—and he was already shaking two vials of pale blue liquid in his hands, clearly eager to throw them. In front of the ranged specialists, Sevika stalked forward carrying what looked like a bear trap made of solid steel, while the thug hefted an enormous axe, his expression promising violence.
"I didn't expect we'd be settling things this way," Silco said, that familiar slight smile playing at his lips. Even in virtual combat, he maintained his composed demeanor.
"Neither did I," Vander agreed, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. "But it's a good opportunity. We can resolve all our old grievances here. After this battle..." He met Silco's eyes. "Let's make peace. Real peace. No more rivalry."
"Agreed," Silco said softly. Then louder: "But first—let's see who's stronger!"
Vander didn't respond with words. He simply pushed off the ground, energy blades leading, charging straight at Silco's formation.
The battle erupted into chaos immediately.
Victor's mechanical scepter discharged first—a massive bolt of electricity arcing toward Vander with a sound like tearing metal. But before it could connect, Claggor threw himself forward, raising his shield to intercept.
CRACK—
The lightning splashed across the shield's surface, electrical energy spreading outward in crackling tendrils. The impact was massive, the force actually slowing Claggor's forward momentum, and wisps of smoke rose from his body where residual current had found purchase.
"You okay?!" Vi shouted, rushing up to support him.
"I can hold," Claggor grunted through gritted teeth. His entire body felt like he'd been punched by a giant, muscles spasming from electrical shock. "But damn, that current packs serious power."
"Don't worry," Mylo called from his elevated position, a fierce grin on his face. "I'll get revenge for you. Watch this!"
His speed increased dramatically—so fast that an afterimage actually trailed behind him as he rocketed toward Silco's formation. He closed the distance in seconds, his staff whipping around in a devastating horizontal sweep aimed at the entire back line.
The staff didn't hit its intended targets. Instead, it slammed into the wooden shaft of the thug's axe with a resounding CLANG. The big man grinned savagely and swung his weapon in a massive overhead chop aimed at separating Mylo from his smug attitude.
Combat devolved into beautiful, chaotic violence.
Vander and Sevika clashed in the center, energy blade against steel trap, both warriors grinning like maniacs as they tested each other's strength. Benzo had somehow flanked around to engage Singed, his dual machetes flashing as the chemist threw potions that exploded on impact with various debilitating effects.
Vi was systematically hunting Victor, her fists leaving craters in the ground every time the inventor dodged her attacks. Claggor had positioned himself to protect the Blue team's rear, deflecting Silco's ranged attacks with his shield. And Mylo was locked in an improbable duel with the axe-wielding thug, staff versus heavy weapon in a contest of speed versus power.
Various abilities activated across the battlefield—skills that the participants had designed themselves or selected from the Phantom Temple's database. Attacks they'd never dared use in real life were now employed freely, tested in an environment where failure meant respawning rather than death.
Victor and Singed were particularly enthusiastic. They'd been theorizing about combat applications for their inventions for years, filling notebooks with ideas they'd never had the opportunity to test. Now, finally, in this consequence-free environment, they could see how their concepts performed in actual battle.
Victor's mechanical scepter unleashed chain lightning that jumped between targets. Singed's potions created zones of toxic gas that damaged anyone standing in them. They coordinated their attacks, layering crowd control effects, establishing kill zones that forced the Blue team to constantly reposition.
The Blue team adapted quickly. Benzo's aggressive butcher persona turned out to be surprisingly effective at disrupting the Red team's formation. Mylo's speed allowed him to dodge most incoming attacks while harassing vulnerable targets. Vi's raw power meant that anyone she managed to corner was instantly eliminated.
And in the center of it all, Vander and Silco finally faced each other directly, energy blade against arcane cane, old grievances being settled through skill and strategy rather than politics and manipulation.
Among them all, Victor and Singed were the most excited. They had long thought of putting their designs into battle, and now they had finally realized it in a special way.