AK : RISING MYTHIC

Arslan stood with the other Mythic-ranked members in the courtyard of the Zenith Base, the towering marble-like structures casting long shadows as golden light spilled through the enchanted sky domes. Today was no ordinary training. Julius had summoned them for something unique—a collaborative test involving all Echelon Knights.

Julius stepped forward from the Council's platform. His voice carried through the air with calm authority. "Today, you face something that transcends brute power. You will enter the Spiral Prism."

Murmurs rippled across the ranks.

"The Spiral Prism," Julius explained, "is a living training dimension—a realm formed from your own energy, but constantly shifting. You will not face enemies. You will face... yourselves. Each of you will be placed at different layers of the prism, surrounded by illusions and trials that respond to your energy—emotionally, physically, spiritually."

Ravik folded his arms. "Sounds like a twisted maze."

Julius nodded. "And you're right. But it is also the fastest way to learn unity, personal resilience, and dynamic power control. You won't be alone. Every few minutes, the prism rotates. Teammates swap places. Challenges mutate. To succeed, you must adapt and protect each other."

Kaelen from Zenith Base spoke next, standing tall and composed. "Those who complete the Spiral Prism return stronger, more aware of their flaws—and more connected."

Arslan, silent among his teammates, felt Kar'Thæl stir inside.

> "This place... is ancient. Dangerous. But if you master it, you'll unlock more than any physical strike can offer."

Without another word, the glowing gate to the Spiral Prism opened behind Julius—formed by four floating sigil-wheels interlocked with spinning rings of white-blue energy. One by one, each group of knights stepped forward.

Arslan followed Mythic members inside.

---

Inside the Spiral Prism

The moment they entered, reality folded.

Colors bled from walls that didn't exist. The air had shape. Gravity felt... adjustable. Mythic members were all pulled into different prisms—glass-like chambers hanging in a void, spinning slowly.

Arslan found himself inside a floating hexagonal room where reflections of himself blinked in and out of existence. A version of him cried in one mirror, while another stood bloodied with rage. A soft hum vibrated through the room like a heartbeat.

> "Kar'Thæl," Arslan muttered, "what is this place doing?"

> "It reflects your unstable energies. If you panic, it folds on itself. Control it."

The prism wall flashed a symbol: ⟡. It pulsed.

Suddenly, black tendrils of light shot from the floor. Arslan rolled, creating his Dark Shield, absorbing their impact. The walls twisted. His environment changed. The floor dropped away.

He landed in a shallow battlefield—illusions of Goblins and Imps rushing toward him. This time, they were faster. More chaotic.

He summoned his Shadow Blades, leaped above them, and launched a Phantom Rift that tore through the illusions. They melted into shards of colored glass.

But then the world twisted again.

In the next blink, Arslan found himself face-to-face with Seris Vahla, his fellow Mythic. She looked confused, bleeding from her leg.

"What the—Arslan? Were you just in my chamber?" she asked.

"The rooms are rotating," he answered quickly, pulling her up. "You okay?"

Seris nodded. "I was fighting toxin doppelgängers of myself."

The walls shifted again, and suddenly, Zhalya Neris appeared, followed by Malrik Envor.

Their environment changed once more—now forming a four-person arena surrounded by slowly advancing sigils.

A voice echoed across the chamber:

"Only one can speak. Only one can fight. Only one can defend. Only one can observe. Decide in 10 seconds."

Without hesitation, Arslan spoke. "Malrik, fight. Zhalya, defend. Seris, observe. I'll speak."

The moment they took their roles, the sigils glowed.

From the edges, swirling shadows emerged—projecting one single enormous enemy: a crystal golem made of rotating blades.

Malrik's Rune Surge activated in streaks of blue. He rushed forward, striking with engraved punches.

Zhalya's Blood Sight allowed her to spot the enemy's weak joints—she projected it into Malrik's mind using the Prism's telepathy.

Seris observed the golem's patterns. Arslan used words like commands, amplifying their roles with emotion. He was forced to choose his words wisely—each wrong command would trigger a punishment.

> "Twist right, Malrik. Aim at the lower hinge."

> "Zhalya, layer two blood shields left."

> "Seris, call out if it forms doubles again."

The Prism was designed to pressure their brains, instincts, and coordination. One mistake, and all four would be sent to another layer.

When the golem finally cracked, it exploded into radiant sparks.

The sigils around them slowed.

A new symbol appeared: ∞

And then—Kaelen appeared before them.

---

Kaelen's Test

"I see you're progressing quickly," Kaelen said, hovering above the platform. "Now... face a test of compression."

He raised his hand.

Suddenly, gravity increased. It was as if a hundred weights fell on each of them. Even Arslan dropped to one knee.

"You must survive... 90 seconds in this state."

Seris gasped. "That's impossible!"

> "Not if you remember your training," Kar'Thæl whispered.

Arslan clenched his jaw. He activated Shadow Vein Channeling, routing energy through his limbs, relieving pressure point by point.

He saw Seris nearly fall. He rushed toward her, creating Dark Shield above her head. "Hold on. Ten seconds already gone."

Zhalya formed her Blood Mirror to reduce tension around her bones. Malrik grunted, using sheer physical might to stay upright.

The countdown was torture.

60 seconds in, Kaelen raised the pressure again.

> "Damn you," Arslan whispered. His skin felt like it was peeling off.

> "Use the pressure," Kar'Thæl said. "Convert it."

With a yell, Arslan stood tall, then invoked his First Combination Skill—unleashing a sphere of dark energy that didn't explode outward, but instead absorbed the pressure around them. A controlled implosion.

The Prism registered the act as perfect synergy.

Kaelen's eyes widened. "So this is... the power you hide."

When time hit zero, the prism began to collapse...

Back in the real world, the Spiral Prism expelled them one by one into the Zenith Courtyard.

Mythics landed hard, panting, covered in sweat.

But their eyes were burning with fire.

Julius stepped forward, smiling. "Congratulations. You have just completed 1ST TRIAL OF COLLABORATION TRAINING"

Kaelen approached Arslan and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've seen dozens of rising warriors... but your energy isn't just strong. It's stable under pressure. You may be more Mythic in name—but your presence is far beyond it."

Arslan didn't reply. He only looked to his team—Zhalya, Malrik, Seris—all recovering and smiling at him.

Kar'Thæl's voice whispered in his mind:

> "Now... you've truly begun to walk among giants."