The swamp faded.
Not gradually.
One blink—and I was back in the graveyard's central ring.
A marble platform under my feet. Floating, cracked islands hovered in the air around us like broken puzzle pieces.
The Reapers were gone.
The Watchers—retreated.
The other survivors—just as shaken.
Only eight Players remained now.
The sky was still red. But quiet.
Like the world was holding its breath.
I was too tired to speak.
Until someone appeared behind me.
"Didn't expect you to last that round."
I turned.
Julia.
Long red hair in a braid, dark green cloak over her shoulders, golden cuffs glowing faintly with Olympian runes.
"You knew that challenge was coming," I said.
She smirked. "Of course. But if I'd told you, you wouldn't have evolved on your own."
She always talks like a chess master watching everyone else fumble.
She walked past me, stepping to the center of the platform. "Look around you, Trey. This place—it's not just an arena."
I followed her gaze.
There were statues at each edge of the circle. Gods. Titans. Spirits. Etched in marble, broken in places, but still powerful.
"Recognize them?" she asked.
Zeus. Hera. Hades. Poseidon. Athena.
Even Nyx, the primordial goddess of night.
"This graveyard isn't just a battlefield," Julia said. "It's a burial ground for gods who interfered with the Games."
Wait—what?
She turned to face me.
"The Reaper Games weren't always like this. Originally, they were trials—tests of the soul. Run by the Olympians to judge mortals before they passed on. But something changed."
"What changed?" I asked.
"Zeus died."
…Excuse me?!
Julia's voice dropped. "The throne was left empty. The Reapers broke free. The veil between realms tore open. And now? They're rewriting the rules."
I staggered back.
Zeus. Dead.
"But you said he was your grandfather—"
"He was," she said quietly. "Before Olympus fell."
She placed her hand on my chest.
Directly over the Mark.
"You've already noticed it, haven't you? That you're changing. That something's waking up."
I didn't respond.
Because she was right.
My body felt stronger than it had any right to be.
My soul—more aware. More connected to things I didn't understand.
And my dreams… they were starting to feel like memories.
"You're not just a Catalyst," Julia said. "You're something we haven't seen in centuries."
"What am I?"
She stepped back.
Lifted her palm.
A projection appeared—flickering light like smoke revealing a symbol in the air.
It wasn't Reaper. It wasn't Watcher.
It was something older.
Something divine.
"You," she said, "are a Descendant."
Descendant.
A mortal born with diluted divine essence. Forbidden by Olympus. Hunted by Reapers. Feared by Watchers.
Potential: Unknown.
I swallowed hard.
"So… you're saying one of the gods is my ancestor?"
She nodded. "Or maybe more than one. We don't know how many lines have been broken and mixed."
My family… my mom, Trinity…
Could she have known?
Could Trinity be one too?
I stepped away from her.
"I need answers."
"You'll get them," Julia said. "But not here."
She turned to walk away.
Then paused.
"When the Second Trial begins, you'll face not just Reapers—but Players who've already killed. You need to decide something, Trey."
"What?"
"Are you playing to survive…"
She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes glowing faintly gold now.
"Or to win?"
And just like that—she vanished into the mist.
Time Remaining: 48:12:55
Phase 1 continues…
New Objective: Prepare for Trial Two.