"Attention, participants," A loud voice carried over the murmurs. "By decree of the Sun, patrols will increase around the Trial grounds. Any violation of Trial rules will be met with severe consequences under the authority of the Sun's Disciples."

  The Cathedral's servant's tone carried an implicit invocation of sanctioned power, and the crowd accepted it wordlessly—just as they always did. Whatever was said by the mouth of those who listened to the Sun was absolute.

  Marguerite, standing just beside Sol, muttered under her breath, "Looks like the Cathedral's tightening its grip. They want to control, or perhaps... thin the competition, heh. Maybe, it's all you fault, anomaly." She mimicked Silvanus at the last part, and they both chuckled.

  We must have really paid heed to Inquisitor's warnings... Sol sighed, albeit inwardly.

  "Yeah, you are right… It's probably to control who stays or goes—such as those like me..." He turned to Marguerite, "I will be going now, Marguerite. Thank you for... everything."

  "Oh, don't get all sentimental on me now. You know I'm just here for the entertainment when you inevitably mess things up there." She laughed, patting his shoulder before appearing serious. "Regardless, stay vary there. Even if you are within the Trials, those guys have no limits to what they can or cannot do."

  He nodded, "Goodbye, Marguerite. May we meet again."

  "Goodbye, Sunshine."

  He walked ahead to the grand airship hanger of steam pipes, brass fixtures, and it's arched ceiling. Hanging lanterns and gas lamps cast warm glows and lit the interior. Clouds of steam or vapor drifting from vents, a sign of the land of steam. An ancient, sprawling ruin in the heart of Solthar, said to test the worthiness of champions. It was once abandoned, initially built by the researchers of Vitruvia when Solthar had close ties with them, and now used as Trials grounds.

  As Sol entered alongside the crowd, he spotted the familiar blonde hair tied in a bun.

  Sophia stamped papers with a crisp thud and a knowing look as she, too, recognized him.

  "Welcome to the Trials, Sol. May the sun, such as it is, shine upon your path, as they say in the lands of Solthar," she said.

  He walked forward alongside the participants, taking in the crowd of people with varying appearances and the surroundings, before he bumps into a hard back.

  "I apolog—"

  "Watch where you are walking, boy," a red-head, taller than him, muttered before continuing his way. He was adorned in white robes, similar to those the church wore, signifying his background and association.

  Sol watched him with a look, gaze hardened rather offendedly. There were no friends here, nor allies. Only rivals hungry for victory, and he would have to take each and every one of them down. He felt the gun in his coat pocket, sitting where the Sun charm once was. It pulsed just as it once did, a warm caress from the runes etched into it.

  Then he pulled his hood even more. Sol's dark cloak was as much camouflage as shield. In this smoke ridden city where sunlight was a myth, shadows would become his refuge.

  The Trial master, a robed figure in gold and white, announced the rules. Behind him sat countless observers in similar clothing, all with their faces concealed. Those, Sol squinted, were the clergy who established the rules of Solthar. The ruling class consisting of the firm authority of the Cathedral in harmony with the selected noble families. Their demeanor showed why they ruled. His flesh tingled beneath the observation. He was small amidst the countless faces of authority.

  One command, and he was deemed heretic.

  The man is as haughty as he spoke of the Trials. There were three trials as the day had three stages: "Complete them, and earn recognition, reward, and influence," he declared. "Fail, and you might forfeit your life." As for many, it was life or death, and the boy with flames in his eyes was no different.

  Then, he prattled about the meaning of life and death. Where death was meaningless, for that meant rebirth; a new life, a new beginning.

  Then, the central arena opened before them. It shushed the whispering competitors, as the crowd of began to eye each other in a place where alliances were temporary. Sol stood on a grated lift with other competitors as the Trial master descended them to the lower floor of the airship hanger. Steam hissed from vents, the smell of oil and metal thick was in the air as they slowly entered the lower floors of the arena. He watched as the ground gets further away and they enter a basement level of the arena.

  Just how huge is this place…?

  The chamber ahead was a massive arena with platforms hovering in mid air, rotated around by gears the size of carriages. Overhead, giant chains leaned down to pull around platforms in unpredictable patterns.

  Next to them were walls lined with weapon arms—a sign of something that needed to be fought.

  With a hiss, the gears roared to life, and the arena shifted instantly, the platforms began to retract and rotate as some drop. Swinging blades deployed from the ceiling. Beyond it all, lied a maze like structure.

  Sol observed their surroundings before he decided to move. He stood at the edge of the lift, looking down into an endless void, blurred by smoke and steam, that waited to consume anyone who fell.

  This was a challenge to eliminate all those who were unworthy of the Trials—he had never seen this part of the games.

  "Reach one of the three exits before the maze closes in. Only those who exit shall qualify for the next stage," the Trial master announced.

  The bells ringing signaled the start.

  And the moment the Trial began, chaos exploded around Sol. Competitors surged forward like wild beasts, desperate to claim the victory, and two were instantly knocked into the pit below by the rush. Sol watched them scream as they fell, completely embraced by the smoke, nervously wondering if he could be one of them.

  Ahead, a rickety platform creaked and groaned beneath him. He dashed forward, only to feel the deep shudder of a gear grinding to life underfoot. Within a moment, Sol leapt sideways to a smaller, moving plate, barely catching his balance. He exhaled in relief but it was quite short lived. Sol leaned forward to dodge a swinging blade, not getting any time to catch his breath.

  The familiar red-head charged through the chaos, smashing with brute force. Sol noticed every time he fought, the arena adapted to send harsher hurdles towards him. The older boy adapted just as well, jumping over false platforms, pushing away anyone who dared stand in his way. Ugh... Newly forged constructs lurched from hidden spaces, their metal claws and crushing maws sharpening, twisting to match his assault, turning each platform he stood on, into a battlefield.

  One panicked competitor near him was caught in the teeth of two massive cogs. Spark and scream resound within the arena, followed by a chilling silence.

  Sol stopped mid-platform once more, studying the arena like a puzzle rather than a battlefield. Calculating the timing of the next slice, the boy crouched low, and sprang through the air, passing cleanly between two colossal and sharp pendulums swinging in cruel arcs. The heavy blades whooshed inches from his skin. And he continued his way forward, hopping around gears and platforms.

  While some fought, Sol knew it would be a failing battle if he copied their tactics. He picked up a loosened gear of the platform, heavy in his hands, dropping it onto a sentry gun to crush it.

  The red-head charged up behind him. "Clever rat," he snarled, shoving with brutal force. "But you're in my way!"

  Sol ducked instinctively, letting him sail past. Before he could turn to strike Sol, he used the momentum and pushed off the edge of the platform. The gear spun with the force, sending his opponent stumbling forward into the next hazard—the endless pit.

  Instead of falling into the endless pit, he managed to swing onto the next platform by grabbing a stray chain. "You're looking for shortcuts. I'm looking for the way to win." He glared from below.

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  "We'll see who reaches the finish line first then!" Sol grinned and hopped off the metal platform onto the entrance of the eternal labyrinth. There stood a mechanical beast, ready to chomp his head off. Sol rolled over before he lost his head to it's merciless bite.

  His enemy climbed up moments later, eyes burning. "Don't get cocky! Next time I see you... I'll crush you!" He exclaimed.

  The abomination at the entrance of the maze was effortlessly punched off by the boy on scarlet flames.

  Sol smirked, still catching his breath as he ran, disappearing into the labyrinth of gears. "If you can keep up!" He yelled over his shoulder, gold eyes burning at the threat.

  The moment he stepped into the maze, gears began to grind and the walls begin to shift. More steam-powered automaton roamed the corridors like brass-clad brutes with grinding gears for limbs. They ripped off flesh with sharp jaws and claws rather hungrily.

  Steam vents periodically blasted, obscuring sight, searing skin and forcing him to move carefully.

  His boot-clad feet patted over the metal plates, as he attempted to pass by one that busied itself with patrolling. A creak resounded in the path, alerting the automaton. It's head raised up, eyes scanning the boy who began to dart. It lunged at Sol, its claws swinging with terrifying weight.

  Oh no. Oh no. Move, idiot!

  He skid back and parried one slash with his gun, stumbling back. Creating enough distance, Sol shot it, but his bullets simply deflected off it's steel body. Sol clicked his tongue, dodging another attack that comes his way.

  "No way!"

  Just then, a sharp hiss filled the air as a compressed air cannon discharged, denting the automaton's gleaming plating with a metallic clang. It crashed to a side, with core destroyed.

  Sol breathed in relief, gaze landing to find a girl floating on her own gear. She tinkered with a small compass, muttering nonsense. "Magnetic resonance... no, that's useless in here."

  "Thanks for the assist," Sol said smoothly, brushing dust from his cloak without missing a beat. His voice cracked halfway through. He pretended as if he was not food for a demon carved from steel just moments ago.

  "Wouldn't want the Trials to be over before they even started." Her gaze slid to the far corridors, as if she were already planning the route.

  He winced inwardly. Right. She's not ally. Nobody's an ally... Just don't look like dead weight besides her…

  An observer, Sol wondered as he took in the little steam powered board she sat on, letting her hover on the ground rather than walk. Was that allowed? He asked himself. She continued to mess with her gadgets, before carefully, releasing a swarm of tiny bugs skittering through the shifting walls. Their delicate wings buzzed as they scouted ahead. Sol watched in growing awe as the gear-girl continued mapping the maze as it twisted and turned.

  "Name's Ava," she said, voice clipped but not unfriendly. "If you want to make it through, you'll need more than luck, boy."

  "Sol." He tried to add something, something witty like Marguerite or Loen would, or anything, but all he managed was, "I, uh... I've got some luck. A little…"

  They walked together, fending off a few hounds, and mapping the maze. She chose to use him as bait, shooting down any hound with a canon, much to his reluctance. The timer didn't stop and it was already half an hour into the maze.

  "You ever notice," Ava said, nudging her goggles up, "that the Cathedral builds everything like it wants us to die creatively?"

  Sol snorted. "Could be worse."

  "Oh? How? Exploding floors?"

  "...Do not give them ideas."

  At last, they arrived at a chamber branching into multiple corridors. Without hesitation, Ava handed Sol a folded slip marked with a path to follow, keeping a similar one for herself.

  "Take this one," she said, eyes catching his. "I'll handle the other."

  Sol examined the map with a raised eyebrow, pondering over it's accuracy. "You're splitting up? Just don't leave me lost in a loop, genius."

  "Don't flatter me," she shot back with a grin and flew away. "Byeeee!"

  Suspicion built slowly as Sol traced the route. He met a dead end, and started walking another way, just to be met with the same result. It had too many loops, doubling back, and wasting his precious time. He grumbled, ruffling his messy black hair.

  He stared at the crumpled map and sighed, she had played him like a fiddle.

  "Damn it!" Sol gazed at the pipes that were laid across the maze, running across like a system of nerves, and began walking along them. It took him a few more turns to exit the loop, and the first person he sees again was the same brunette girl with goggles reflecting dim light.

  She was already several steps ahead of him, not that she walked herself.

  Sol caught her mid-step, voice edged with frustration. "You really don't like working together, do you?"

  What a fool. He scolded himself.

  Ava's lips quirked into a half-smile as she shrugged. "Only if there's profit in it. Let's say, I dropped some extra baggage there."

  Sol grinned back with rage, his teeth grinding, but chose to not respond to that.

  At that moment, the maze shifted violently, walls slammed shut, separating them from the rest, as if making way for something else. A massive clockwork hound bursts through, it's body similar to the rest, yet violent and way bigger than anything they had encountered before. It was all pistons and murder, each step a stomp that rattled the floor. It looked around, searching for prey to dig it's knife-sharp claws into.

  Sol grabbed his gun, before retaliation hit him. His stomach sank, bullets against that much metal would be like throwing pebbles at a storm.

  It leaped at him and Sol twisted away, boots skidding to the girl messing with her devices.

  "Now?!" he barked, hauling her back by the collar just as the beast's jaws snapped shut where her head had been. The hound crashed into a wall, but did not let them breathe. It swung it's tail in a wide arc and the two barely moved away in time. Sol took his chance to shoot it's joints and gears, but it barely left a scratch on the hound.

  "I need to figure out it's weakness." She tapped away onto her mechanical keypad. She scanned it with her goggles, spotting it's heat-based power source. He had seen no such thing before.

  Sol ducked another attack and jumped high to land a kick to it's jaw. It staggered backwards, and roared. But that kick did nothing.

  "Damn it. Nothing works on this guy!" The beast's brass plating was like an impenetrable shell, repelling his shots and slashes with brutal ease.

  She didn't even look like she was in danger, just annoyed. "Its shell disperses kinetic force. You're not going to scratch it like that."

  Before another strike could crash down, a hiss of escaping steam erupted from a vent below, sending a scalding blast directly onto it's side. The machine reeled back, emitting a tortured roar that echoed through the corridor.

  Ava reappeared in a blur beside him, her dark goggles reflecting the beast's snarl. "Heat-based weakness," she hissed urgently. Sol aimed at it's core again, shooting it once.

  The heated bullet faintly penetrated it's armored body. It roared again. It was not halted by the heat, just angered.

  "Bullets? Forget it. We'll have to cook it alive"—she observed the crafted map—"steam vents, two of them, near the next turn... Help me herd it there!"

  "And how do you propose I do that? Politely ask it to run a marathon?!" Why am I always that bait…

  "Keep it angry," she animatedly explained. "Just distract it."

  Without hesitation, Sol pivoted smoothly, weaving through the endless labyrinth. He baited the hound forward, dodging its claws by mere inches. The beast lunged, snapping just where he'd been moments before, sending splinters of shattered brick scattering around.

  Sol's chest burned as he sprinted, every muscle begging to give up. But he forced himself forward anyway, jaw clenched. If I stop running, I'm dead. If I look weak, I'm dead. If I don't prove myself here... then what the hell am I even doing in the Trials?

  The narrow passage marked by Ava closed in tight, forcing the hound's heavy frame to slow as it struggled to turn. Sol stayed close, skidding through its powerful legs, guiding the mechanical terror exactly where the girl needed it. Cornered.

  "Now!" Ava twisted the rusted valves near heavy steam vents. A shrill whistle pierced the air as massive jet erupted, blasting scalding steam straight into the hound's joints.

  The beast howled a grinding, tortured shriek of twisting gears, before it came to a complete stop.

  "Looks like cooking is the solution after all." Ava grinned in victory, floating on her gear besides him.

  Sol simply sighed with exhaustion heavy in his eyes. "Let's get out now."

  The walls had began to shift again, and they started to make their way forward after emerging victorious in a trial within a trial. This time, as a team, that Ava had claimed they were now. He wasn't sure himself, but it was better than running around alone. She was smarter, more experienced, so sure of herself. And so, Sol followed, feet scraping the uneven floor.

  Ava's eyes flicked toward him, curiosity tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  "You know," she asked, her tone edged with interest, "that boy from the Cathedral?"

  Sol frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar description. "Who?" He wouldn't know someone from the Cathedral, unless everyone knew them.

  "The boy who dresses himself like he is already a knight—so white and red," Ava recalled. "Interesting contrast."

  White and red, Sol manifested the image in his mind. White, all blinding and immaculate, draped over him like a banner of purity with the the harsh, living red of a wound that refused to close. The combination was grotesque, beautiful, yet so terrifying. It manifested the purity of the oath and the inevitability of blood-shed that came with it (hand in hand), intertwined in one figure, one embodiment of righteous destruction.

  His head snapped toward her. "That was him!?"

  Ava nodded. "His name is Mattheos. He was chasing you around like he had some personal vendetta against you. Or obsession at first sight?" She teased, and Sol shook his head.

  "I don't know him at all. Not at all," he replied, voice tightening as he lifted his hands up in disbelief. "He's crazy! Why would I mess with some sort of a crazy knight?"

  "Crazy? Perhaps... Dangerous? Undeniably. Maybe, that’s what allows him to become a knight!" Ava laughed. "Then why does he hunt you in the midst of the Trials?"

  Sol shrugged unbecomingly and silently, he had no clue.

  A man so keen on becoming a knight, just to shackle himself with an oath. The boy scoffed. And just at the mere thought, his mouth went dry.

  Knights were not just warriors; they were the righteous, the living seal of law and honor, and Mattheos seemed to embody that within himself. They belonged to the belief that Solthar stood on, a lineage of blood and discipline that bound them to a standard no ordinary man could bear. It made him sick. Sol swallowed, a dry lump catching in his throat. That kind of light—so fierce, so absolute—was suffocating in it's intensity.

  Whatever sort of righteousness was it, Sol did not like being near it.