During the first few hours of travel, nothing happened, just a steady pace. Only the sound of our boots hitting the ground was there to break the silence. The gorge behind them dwindled into a jagged scar on the landscape, slowly swallowed by distance. Ahead stretched scrub plains and ridges, heat shimmering above the cracked earth.

  I adjusted my pace and drank from my flask. New stats or not, years of training had taught me to drink water and stay hydrated. I hated to see Balt slurp on my flask like he was sucking a golf ball through a garden hose, but I could not let the old man fall out. I gladly shared but inwardly vowed to get Balt his own flask the moment I could buy one.

  Every little bit, I wanted to try out Flash Step again. I forced the urge down. Wasting stamina this early in the journey would be stupid, but damn if it didn’t want to do it anyway.

  Beside me, Balt moved with a steadiness that belied his age. His staff clicked against rock and dirt, the key now dangling from his belt. We were periodically stopping, and Balt would hold the key and adjust their course.

  I knew that the stats had made me stronger and faster. But my casual speed was unreal. The landscape of rocks and mountains was whipping by as I traversed the countryside. It was crazy to think that I would be the fastest man in my world now by a wide margin. Hell, who am I kidding I would give a cheetah a run for its money at this point.

  “Feels strange,” I said.

  “What feels strange?” asked Balt, breathing heavily as he kept up with my pace.

  “In my world, I would have been the fastest and strongest man alive with these stats and Talents. Progression is an amazing thing. There can be no doubt," replied Balt.

  I noticed that Balt seemed to want to say more but hesitated before he did. We just continued running. I felt there was something there and went ahead and prompted him to share his thoughts.

  I was not the type to pry, but I was genuinely curious about how the man had come to be here and what his story was.

  “I confess to being curious about your situation."

  “Situation?” replied Balt.

  “Well, you’ve been alive for a long time. Why were you stuck at level 15 for so long? You are no coward and a competent person. Hell, you grew several levels just helping me out these last few days.

  I guess I don't understand why your growth has been so slow." I slowed down and raised my hands in a placating gesture. "No offence intended. I am genuinely curious, is all."

  Balt seemed to turn in on himself, and I was about to tell him to forget I asked when I heard. “Level fifteen, eh? You think being at that level at my age is strange? I didn’t stop at fifteen because I wanted to. I stopped because the opportunity to grow stopped coming my way.”

  We were walking now. Balt tapped the key at his belt, eyes going out of focus for a moment.

  “Guide. That’s my class… was my class, he corrected himself. Sounds noble, doesn’t it? You imagine a wise old mentor doling out advice, pointing the way.

  Truth is… the Guide class isn’t made for solo leveling. We don’t earn experience like other classes do. When others fight and level, I only get credits for leading someone to safety, for steering them true on a mission."

  Balt stopped and looked at me. "If you form a party with someone, you share experience, and most of the people I was guiding are already Faction affiliated or independent parties that just want to be shown a quick location or be able to ask me some basic questions. It becomes very difficult to gain XP when no one wants to party with a guide that can’t really deal damage. Factions have their own guides as well. So, it’s not like there were a ton of opportunities out here."

  His voice hardened, the words carrying the weight of years. “On the Tutorial Floor, that’s all there is or at least, that’s all I thought there was. Then the system dropped a quest in my lap: guide the new Outlier to the First Floor. For me, that was huge.

  “Small chances like that… that’s all a guy like me can hope for. Stay alive long enough, and maybe by luck or some System miracle, you get another shot to change your fate.”

  He glanced away, jaw tight. “For most of us here, the tutorial’s just a grinder. The same events, over and over. It keeps you breathing, sure… but it never lets you live. I doubt it was always like this. But ever since the factions took hold?” He shook his head. “This is all we get.”

  “So I helped other parties, but I was never part of them. With every small mission I completed, I got credits from them. Credits that could buy me bread, or a roof, or gear but never growth. Never the kind of power combat classes have. My level 15 was what I began to call my soft cap.”

  He tightened his grip on the staff, voice lowering.

  “That’s why I am doing this with you, kid; you are the first one ever to help give me a path forward.”

  I didn’t respond immediately. The wind tugged at my skin, dry and warm, carrying the scent of sunbaked stone and dirt. Balt’s words hung in the air like dust motes, slow to settle.

  I glanced at the old man, watching the way his shoulders moved, not hunched, not defeated, but braced. Like someone who’d learned to carry weight without complaint. “You ever think about giving up?”

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  Balt chuckled, a dry rasp that sounded like gravel shifting. “Every damn day toward the end I felt tired.”

  I looked down at the cracked earth beneath my boots, then out at the horizon where heat shimmered off the rocks. I felt I owed him something in return for him sharing something so deep with me.

  I didn’t speak immediately. When I did, I felt hesitant. “I think giving up is one of humanity's biggest weaknesses. Back home, I always did my best to push through any obstacles. You grind in your own way on my world.”

  “I never wanted to be the guy who would complain at the slightest bit of inconvenience or complain about anything, really. That’s a thing where I am from… you know, complaining about your problems to everyone that will listen. It’s so easy to feel sorry for yourself. Especially when you have a legitimate grievance. But I just kept any problems or emotions bottled up inside always."

  "When my father passed away. I was in the military, and I had lost friends downrange that I had served with. I was going through a tough time. There were days I’d lie awake at night wondering if happiness was not meant for me. I began to think I was just... broken. If maybe I wasn’t built for the world I was in.”

  “I didn’t give up, but I didn’t really live well either. I just kept moving because stopping felt worse. Like if I stopped, I’d disappear.”

  I turned to Balt, eyes steady. “So yeah, I get feeling tired. My First Sergeant finally convinced me to talk to someone.” Balt glanced at me but didn’t interrupt.

  I pointed at Balt. "You didn’t disappear and give up on yourself. I didn’t give up either. I realized that sometimes you just need to talk through some shit and for someone that cares to listen. I did that, and over time I got better.

  You’re still here. I am still here, and you’re helping me carve a path forward to save my family. That means something to me.”

  Balt’s expression softened, the lines on his face shifting like old parchment. He didn’t smile, but something in his posture eased. “If you ever want to talk about all those years of struggle and grinding alone. I will listen, my friend.”

  “Thanks, kid,” he said quietly. “That means more than you know.”

  We moved in silence for a while, thinking our own private thoughts, the terrain growing more uneven. The sun was beginning to set when I spotted a ridge ahead, jagged like broken teeth, and beyond it, the shimmer of something unnatural, light bending wrong, like a mirage in a desert flickering with distorted images. Balt had grabbed the key and corrected their course several times at this point.

  Balt saw the unnatural light as well. "That's where it's taken us." He slowed, raising his staff slightly. “Boundary marker,” I heard him mutter. I slowed with him. I activated my Anchor ready to summon Ashbourne at the first sign of trouble. “Anything we need to worry about?”

  “Perhaps,” Balt said. “But I don’t think so. At least not yet.” We crested the ridge, and the world changed as we passed through the shimmering light.

  The rocky barren plains gave way to a basin of cracked obsidian, black glass stone reflecting the sky in warped fragments. The key had begun to glow brightly and pulsed with power. At the center of the basin stood a huge stone obelisk, pulsing faintly with the same strange colored light the key was giving off.

  I felt my Anchor pulse just for a moment. A notification blinked, then vanished.

  Balt stopped, staring at the obelisk. Narrowing his eyes as he looked. “So that’s how it is.”

  “How what is?” I asked.

  “The key is guiding us to that obelisk,” Balt replied.

  We both walked cautiously to the huge stone, boots crunching on the brittle ground. The obelisk hummed louder the closer we got, and a faint voice echoed in my mind, not words, but intent. It was a challenge. A test to enter.

  My heart was pounding. “Balt, hand me the key and prepare yourself.”

  “I feel it too,” Balt said grimly. “Looks like we've found what we've been searching for."

  Balt stepped forward, his expression unreadable. From his waist, he untied the key. He held it out to me.

  I hesitated before taking the key. The air felt heavier, charged. I took the key, its surface warm against my palm, and stepped toward the obelisk. The ring of light pulsed once, as if sensing him. On the stone, a small keyhole appeared in front of me.

  I breathed out my nervous energy and fit the key into the slot. It clicked. A low hum rolled through the basin. The circle of light lifted off the ground like a rising halo, and darkness shot out from the top of the obelisk.

  The shimmering light that they had passed through when they entered the basin started to turn dark. A stream of energy from the top of the obelisk began to stream up into the sky.

  Then the obelisk communicated, not in words, but in sensation. A pressure behind my eyes. A pull in my chest.

  The obelisk’s hum deepened into a low, resonant growl. Cracks spider-webbed across its surface, glowing with molten light. The light became an arch on the stone.

  Then, with the sound of stone crushing, a portal opened and the first enemy dropped out of the huge stone.

  The creature landed hard, kicking up shards of obsidian. A humanoid shape, but wrong, its limbs too long, its face a smooth mask of shadow. More followed.

  One by one, they spilled from the obelisk like ink poured from a wound, each one twitching deformed limbs. Some with weapons, some with long claws and sharp black teeth.

  Ten. Eleven. Twelve. I counted. They formed a loose circle around me and Balt, silent and waiting. The darkness above continued to rise, creeping up the dome like a tide.

  I stepped forward, summoning Ashbourne, eyes scanning the figures. “Trial of the Gatekeeper, huh?" The shadow creatures were not moving, standing stock-still and observing us.

  So, we have to make the first move, or they will just let the time run out on us. "It's a timer of some sort. We have to make the first move."

  Balt raised his staff. “Okay, kid, I’m with you.”

  I looked at all of them and activated Limit Breaker. My pulse kicked up. Twelve enemies. Timer ticking. No turning back now. "Let's do this!"