Malakai's eyes narrowed.
Crimson eyes… crimson hair… no mistaking it. He was a Sanguine.
But neither Zeronis nor Jeranis Von Sanguine existed in their present generation.
That confirmed his assumptions.
But he had no time to dwell on that. A subtle wave of killing intent emanated from Zeronis as his hand reached for his weapon. And it didn't end there, two more Sanguine youths approached.
They bowed slightly, reverently, before stopping beside him. But as they noticed Zeronis's cold stare fixed on Malakai and his hand resting on his weapon, they turned their attention as well.
One of them asked, cautious,
"3rd Vein… is something wrong?"
Zeronis's reply was curt.
The two scanned Malakai, brows furrowing. The recognition never came. Only confusion.
"No… He's not one of us… There were only twelve Sanguine descendants who entered the Pit. We'd recognize him."
And then, they looked closer, at his gear. His clothing. His weapon.
"Why does his equipment look so… advanced?"
Their own weapons looked archaic next to his sleek, crimson-lined scythe. Their belts looked crude beside his tactical gear.
Their hands slowly reached toward their weapons, guards raised.
Malakai's grip on his gun tightened.
'He's sharp,' he thought of Zeronis. 'He saw through me just as I saw through them.'
Hostility had now taken center stage. Malakai's second hand shifted to his scythe.
'I can't lie my way out of this.'
There was no explanation that would satisfy them and no cover story they'd believe.
Which meant… he had to fight.
As they saw his move, the killing intent from the trio surged.
They were barely in their early teens, but this was not Earth's old age. These were Sanguines, descendants of power. Trained from birth. Shaped by war.
They had the finest tutors. The deadliest instructors. The purest bloodline. And they were evolved.
The tension rose like a tightening noose.
Others began to notice, and their eyes turned toward Malakai.
"Why does he look so different?"
'As expected.' Malakai thought. The descendants who had entered the Pit were somewhat numerous.
However, the Sanguine clan was one of the overlords of the dome. Many of the other descendants had their faces burned into their memory.
But they soon started noticing other things.
"His gear… it's nothing like ours."
As the whispers spread, Zeronis suddenly spoke up.
"He might be the reason we're in this situation."
Malakai's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly hid his reaction.
That was dangerous. Those words were more lethal than a sword. In fact, Malakai would have preferred fighting just Zeronis.
In a crowd this volatile, suspicion was fuel, and Zeronis had just lit a match.
The shift was immediate.
The eyes of the descendants narrowed at Malakai. More hostility appeared in their gazes. Some hands found hilts.
The atmosphere grew suffocating.
At this point, it was far too late to do anything. Malakai's muscles tensed.
He'd thanked his stars earlier for moving toward the forest. Now, his closeness to it was the only thing keeping him alive.
His balance shifted slightly as he prepared to bolt. However, a voice rang out.
A voice that none of them could forget.
"All participants are present. The Trial for the Next Successor will begin now."
Their heads snapped upward, and they saw it, the sky had changed.
A vast layer of dark clouds had blanketed the skies, churning and heavy with pressure that pressed on them.
Malakai's eyes flickered.
His mind raced, struggling to make sense of the phrase. Their world was shit, and his life even shittier.
'Is this a game?' He thought of the different possibilities. But he wasn't the only one.
Zeronis's gaze had turned skyward, as well as many of the descendants with good insights. Their brows were furrowed, and most of them had completely forgotten the earlier altercation.
"What the hell do you mean by Successor Trials!?"
"We didn't agree to this!"
"I demand to speak to a Head! You can't just—!"
Some of the descendants voiced their dissatisfaction, and they were far from being subtle about it.
But no matter how much they complained, there was no response.
Suddenly, the clouds rumbled again and a brilliant light shone from above.
It descended upon them swiftly, wrapping each youth in beams of gold.
Malakai barely had time to process it before the light swallowed him too.
And without so much as a word, they vanished.
Malakai felt the empty feeling of darkness once more before he felt it was okay to open his eyes.
As he did, it took a second for his eyes to adjust, but as it did, he didn't waste even a single second and scanned his surroundings.
It wasn't a question. He was certain.
He could see the faint outlines of rough and uneven walls, and jagged rocks jutted out here and there. The air smelled like earth, and the ground felt damp.
'It's quiet.' Malakai couldn't hear even the slightest of sound, yet, this wasn't what made him grip his gun and scythe tighter.
'It's dark and… I'm not alone.'
Malakai's guard rose to the peak, and he took a few steps backwards, positioning himself close to the uneven cave wall.
'I'll be able to react better this way.'
He could feel that he wasn't alone, but he wasn't sure who or what was in the area along with their numbers.
'It's not a darkness creature.' This he was sure of.
The intense chill that came with their presence wasn't there. Plus, if he had been trapped in a dark cave with a darkness creature, then he was as good as dead.
'It must be the other descendants,' Malakai concluded, 'they're also being careful.'
Malakai couldn't be certain if they had discovered him or not, but he had no plans of revealing himself.
Instead, he pondered about everything that had happened, trying to see if he would be able to get any insight as to what they were doing here.
'The descendants entered the pit more than two centuries ago and never returned… and if my assumption is right and they really are the ones, then… why haven't they aged?'