The air in the endless corridor felt colder now — not because of the void's touch, but because Kairis had begun to understand it.
He stood in silence, his breath shallow, the metallic scent of his own blood still clinging to his tongue. The faint shimmer of Alyth's lightning — the storm that had torn his flesh apart a thousand times — had long faded, leaving behind only scorched earth and silence.
The silence was the worst part.
Kairis exhaled slowly and looked down at his trembling hands. He'd died so many times that the concept itself had begun to lose meaning. Each death had been different — sometimes quick, sometimes unbearably long. But the return was always the same: his eyes opening to the void's oppressive light, his lungs gasping as if breaking the surface of black water. Again and again.
"So that's what it feels like," he muttered under his breath. "To die over and over… to remember every second of it."
His voice cracked. Not from fear — but from something quieter, deeper. A bone-deep exhaustion that clawed at his sanity.
He clenched his fists, staring into the infinite horizon of the dungeon.
But within that silence, memories stirred — faint, fragmented images from a world he barely remembered. His mother's smile. His father's calloused hand resting on his head. The warmth of a family dinner. The laughter of Elyra and Aeren before the world burned.
"...I still haven't found you," he whispered, looking up as if his parents could hear. "But I'll keep walking. I'll tear through every god, every realm, every void—until I do."
A faint chime echoed in his mind — not from the system, but from something older.
[Synchronization Progress: 13% → 18%]
Kairis froze. That word again — Synchronization. It had appeared after each death, after each awakening. But what did it mean?
He closed his eyes, and for a brief instant, he felt it — a pulse not his own.
It wasn't the system. It wasn't his magic. It was deeper. A current beneath the current. Like his soul was aligning with something vast and ancient — the void's rhythm, the god's intent that crafted this nightmare.
Synchronization:
A state of alignment between the vessel and the essence of creation that forged it. The closer the alignment, the more the vessel understands its existence.
Lucien Dreamveil's voice — cold, distant — whispered from the dark corners of Kairis's consciousness.
"You are beginning to understand, child of gravity. Death is not punishment. It is synchronization — the breaking of the mortal rhythm to match the void's pulse."
Kairis opened his eyes, his jaw set.
"Then I'll keep dying," he said. "Until I'm in tune with it."
He stepped through the next gate.
The world changed.
The corridor dissolved into a vast open chamber — an arena of pale stone suspended in a starless sky. Above, fragments of broken constellations floated like shattered glass. A massive chessboard pattern spread across the ground, each tile glowing faintly. And at the far end, seated upon a throne of floating blades, was a man in armor that reflected nothing.
Kaelthar.
The Tactician of the Void Commanders.
He rose slowly, each motion deliberate — a commander surveying the battlefield long before a battle began. His eyes glowed with a sharp, metallic silver, and his expression was unreadable. There was no malice in him — only calculation.
"So," Kaelthar's voice rang across the expanse, calm and collected. "You've survived the storm. Impressive. But storms are simple. They rage until they die. Strategy, however…" He raised a finger, and the entire arena began to shift, tiles sliding into new positions with clockwork precision. "…is eternal."
Kairis took a step forward, tightening his grip on his blade. "You talk too much."
Kaelthar smiled faintly. "A warrior who charges without thinking says that often. Let's see if you've learned anything from dying."
The ground moved before Kairis could even breathe.
The tiles rearranged again — each glowing with a symbol: circles, triangles, and eyes. Kairis leapt back, instincts screaming as one of the tiles exploded into a burst of ethereal spears.
"Trap tiles…" Kairis murmured. "This entire arena's a puzzle."
Kaelthar's voice echoed from everywhere.
"Correct. Every step is a move. Every move has a cost. You'll die here — not from my blade, but from your decisions."
Kairis smirked slightly. "Then let's play."
The battle began.
Kaelthar didn't move like a warrior — he maneuvered like a grandmaster.
Each flick of his hand caused blades of void energy to form from the air, shifting the arena's configuration mid-battle.
Kairis lunged, activating Aerial Step, leaping above the grid. Gravity bent under his command as he soared, descending like a meteor — but the moment his foot touched a glowing square, the pattern beneath him changed.
Click.
"Shit—!"
A web of chains burst upward, binding his limbs. Kaelthar appeared before him in a blink, his sword flashing once — clean, silent.
Kairis's head hit the ground before he realized he was dead again.
Respawn.
Pain. Air. The chessboard again.
But this time… he didn't move right away.
He watched the patterns. The faint shimmer before the tiles changed. The way Kaelthar's gaze followed him. The rhythm.
He crouched low, whispering to himself.
"Synchronization… isn't just with the void. It's with everything. Including this."
The air rippled — gravity expanding around him like a living aura.
Round two.
Kairis moved differently now. He didn't rush. He walked in rhythm with the pulse beneath the ground. Every tile that shifted — he anticipated. Every trap that formed — he redirected.
Kaelthar raised an eyebrow as Kairis narrowly evaded a cascade of exploding glyphs.
"Adaptation," he said softly. "Good. But adaptation is predictable."
He vanished.
Blades rained down from above, while the floor patterns inverted. Kairis felt time distort — Kaelthar's tactical domain warping the space itself.
"Gravity—Break!"
The space shattered as Kairis unleashed Gravity Compression, condensing the pressure beneath his feet. The tiles cracked, destabilizing Kaelthar's field.
Kairis shot forward, his sword glowing with condensed voidlight — the remnants of synchronization manifesting.
Their blades clashed — each strike rippling through the realm like thunder.
Kaelthar smirked between strikes. "You're learning to read the world… not just fight it. That's synchronization."
Kairis's eyes flashed silver and black. "Then read this."
He vanished — not through speed, but by bending the battlefield's gravity itself. He reappeared behind Kaelthar, his blade descending in a clean arc.
Crack!
Kaelthar staggered, his shoulder armor split open, energy leaking out. He looked down at the wound, then smiled faintly.
"Not bad."
He raised his sword — and impaled himself through the chest.
Kairis froze. "What the—?"
The chessboard glowed.
Kaelthar's body dissolved into a dozen mirrored copies, each forming from a different square.
"Lesson three," their voices echoed in unison. "Sacrifice and illusion are the same tool."
Kairis clenched his teeth, closing his eyes.
Focus. Feel the gravity. The pulse beneath the surface.
He spread his arms — and the air thickened, forming invisible threads of gravity connecting every square. Through those threads, he could feel which Kaelthar was real.
"Found you."
The pressure spiked.
Kairis raised his hand.
"Gravity Falls!"
The sky split open — and a colossal spectral finger descended, crushing the false Kaelthars instantly.
The real Kaelthar looked up just before it landed, smiling faintly.
"Well done…"
Impact. Silence.
The entire arena shook, light bursting through the cracks as the tactician's form dissolved into radiant motes of voidlight.
Kairis collapsed to his knees, gasping. His body trembled violently; the use of Gravity Falls drained every drop of vitality left in him.
A faint chime echoed.
[Kaelthar — Trial Complete]
[Synchronization: 21%]
[Skill Acquired: Void Insight (Passive) — Allows instant understanding of spatial flow and tactical domains.]
[HP Restored.]
Kairis looked up at the fading light where Kaelthar had stood.
"Another wall down…" he whispered. "Four more to go."
The chessboard faded, the void swallowing the arena. Ahead, a new gate began to take shape — its surface rippling like oil.
Kairis stood, wiping blood from his lip, his gaze steady.
Each death, each battle, each scar — it was no longer torment.
It was synchronization.
And somewhere in the shadows of the next realm… Veloria waited.