Darkness.
Heavy and endless.
Azen couldn't see his hands, but he could feel the air pulsing, like the room itself had come alive. The voices from earlier were gone — even Silver's, even Kane's.
Only his breathing remained.
Then, a whisper: "Proof."
The floor cracked under his feet. Reality bent — one blink, and he was standing in a long corridor of glass, mirrors on both sides stretching into infinity. His reflection followed his every move.
"What is this?" Azen muttered.
Kane's voice came from nowhere. "Everyone faces themselves before they face the Game."
The reflections shifted. His mirror self grinned — wrong, sharper, darker.
"You think you're ready," it said. "But you're just another name waiting to fade."
Azen's heart pounded. "Shut up."
The reflection stepped forward. "You can't hide from me."
The world trembled as both raised their fists. Metal echoed through the air — the reflection moved faster, stronger. Every hit Azen threw came back harder.
Pain. Anger. Confusion. It all boiled into one sharp moment. And then—
A spark.
A pulse of white energy burst from Azen's chest, shattering the mirrors around him. The reflection screamed before dissolving into smoke.
When Azen opened his eyes, he was back in the underground hall, gasping for air. Sweat rolled down his face, hands trembling.
Kane stood over him, expression unreadable. "You survived."
Azen looked up. "What was that?"
"The Proof. The city's way of asking who you really are."
Silver knelt beside him, eyes narrowing. "You touched the Vein."
"The what?"
"The Vein," Kane said. "Power that flows beneath this city. Old. Alive. Some hear it. A few can use it. You… connected with it."
Azen didn't answer. His hands still glowed faintly — veins of light fading into his skin.
Kane smiled slightly. "Welcome to the Game, Azen. From now on, nothing is the same."