Ethan let his head rest back against the rock for a single breath longer, letting the taste of quiet sit on his tongue.
The forest quickly reclaid itself, insects softening their hum, leaves shifting like they hadn’t just seen a fight.
Everly stretched her arms out with a groan, then dropped them like the weight wasn’t worth carrying.
Evelyn tapped the edge of her blade once on the stone before sliding it ho, her motions clean and practiced, not wasting a gesture.
Ethan pushed himself back up to his feet. He didn’t say they had to move; the twins already knew. They always did.
The path wound narrow now, a cut of earth leading them down into a canyon carved not by water or ti but by the will of whoever had built this trail.
The walls pressed close on either side, stone rising high and red with streaks of black. The floor wasn’t still.
Platforms jutted up from the canyon bed like teeth, shifting on hinges hidden beneath the ground. Every few seconds, one would lower or lift, as if the world were exhaling.
Everly let out a low whistle. "Finally," she said, planting her hands on her hips. "Sothing that looks fun."
Evelyn’s eyes swept the canyon, her tone cutting through Everly’s excitent with the ease of a knife through paper. "Fun is another word for reckless if you don’t plan."
Ethan studied the rhythm of the platforms, letting his eyes trace the rise and fall. "We ti it," he said.
"One at a ti across the jumps, no doubling unless you want the canyon to take you."
Everly rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. That was as close to agreent as she got.
They started. Ethan took the lead, springing across the first gap onto a slab that shifted under his weight.
He steadied himself quickly, knees bending to drink the movent. The next platform lifted, then dipped.
He counted the rhythm under his breath and jumped. His boot landed true—then the stone sank too fast, catching him off guard. His foot slipped on the edge.
For one sick heartbeat, the canyon yawned beneath him, a drop that promised nothing but broken bones and a quiet end. His stomach lurched. His hand clawed for purchase.
Then fingers closed hard around his wrist. Evelyn’s grip was iron, steadying him before the platform gave way.
She pulled him in, smooth and controlled, as if she had been waiting for him to miss all along.
"Careful," she said, her tone calm but her eyes sharp.
On the far platform, Everly bared her teeth at the canyon as if it had tried to steal sothing from her.
"If he falls, I’m diving in after him just to yell at him all the way down," she shouted, her voice sharp with both humor and sothing too close to fear.
Ethan caught his breath, nodded once at Evelyn, then pushed forward again. The next leap carried him clean.
He didn’t let himself look back too long, though he felt the weight of the mont sitting warm between the three of them, unspoken but there all the sa.
They pressed on. The platforms carried them deeper into the canyon until the stone walls opened wide into a basin.
The air shifted, cooler and heavier. Ethan’s skin prickled before the sound reached him: a rustling beat, like wings dragged across serrated stone. Shadows flickered along the ledges above.
"Ambush," Evelyn said flatly, blade already out.
Shapes dropped from the high ledges—birdlike predators, their wings jagged as sawblades, their screeches sharp enough to cut the air.
They dove in, fast and hungry, talons catching sparks where they scraped stone.
Everly didn’t wait. She leapt to et the first, blade flashing as she cut through one wing. The creature shrieked and spun, slamming into the canyon floor in a spray of dust.
Another ca for Ethan. He twisted aside, pulling an illusion across his shoulder. The predator dove for the false target, wings slicing empty air.
Ethan drove his knife up into its exposed chest, rolling as it thrashed past him.
Evelyn stood firm, her stance unshakable. She struck at joints, never wasting movent, her blade a trono keeping rhythm in the chaos.
Every ti a bird dove for her, it found its wings clipped and its screech cut short.
But they kept coming, a dozen at least, swarming the basin. Ethan drew on his system, pulling thin veils of light to scatter false shapes—clones darting across the canyon floor, silhouettes leaping higher than they could.
The predators lunged at shadows, giving Everly her windows to strike.
"Keep them off him!" Evelyn snapped, sliding between Ethan and a diving shape. Her blade found the creature’s throat.
"I’m fine," Ethan said, breath tight as he slashed another illusion into being.
Everly barked a laugh, sweat streaking her brow. "Fine? You almost fell to your death five minutes ago.
Don’t get greedy!" She slamd her heel into a predator’s chest, sending it crashing back against the canyon wall.
The fight stretched, noisy and brutal. Talons scraped, wings sliced, dust filled their lungs. But slowly the rhythm shifted.
The predators started to falter. Their numbers thinned, and their dives beca less coordinated.
The three of them pressed harder, weaving their movents into a pattern that was theirs alone.
Ethan’s illusions drew them off balance, Evelyn’s precision cut them down clean, and Everly’s raw strength drove the rest into the ground.
At last, the last predator hit the canyon floor with a broken cry. Silence followed, broken only by their ragged breaths.
Ethan wiped dust from his cheek with the back of his hand. His chest heaved, but his eyes were clear.
Evelyn’s blade dripped with dark ichor before she wiped it clean again. Everly leaned on her knees, grinning through exhaustion.
"That," she said, "was terrible. I loved it."
Ethan shook his head but smiled despite himself. "You’d love anything loud enough to shake your bones."
Evelyn slid her blade ho and glanced at them both. "We move. The exam isn’t done yet."
She was right. The canyon floor shifted again, stone grinding on stone. From the far side of the basin, sothing massive pushed its way into being.
Plates of armor glead in the half-light, stacked like shells across a beast the size of a house.
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