Chapter 78: Before The Chaos I
The ornate doors groaned open with the weight of centuries, revealing a space that defied every assumption Alex had made about architectural possibility.
The Grand Arena stretched before him like a small nation unto itself. The central fighting pit alone could have swallowed the Academy’s entire campus, its floor a mosaic of materials that shifted and changed as he watched stone becoming sand becoming crystallized essence in patterns that spoke of adaptive battlefield manipulation. The ceiling soared so high it disappeared into manufactured twilight, pierced by shafts of light that felt more conceptual than physical.
But it was the audience that made Alex’s enhanced perception recoil in involuntary recognition of his insignificance.
Thousands of Shadeborn filled the tiered seating, their translucent forms creating a shimmering sea of spectators that rose in concentric circles until they blended with the artificial darkness above. Among them moved the Ironhide servants the Arena Warden’s species but these weren’t mere attendants. Their bearing suggested nobility, authority, the casual confidence of beings who had watched lesser creatures destroy each other for entertainment spanning millennia.
And at the arena’s apex, in a section that seemed to exist partially outside normal space, sat the Master.
Alex couldn’t look directly at the central throne. His enhanced vision slid away from that form like water off polished glass, registering only impressions robes that absorbed light, presence that pressed against consciousness, age that made the ruins of dead civilizations seem like yesterday’s construction. A single figure, though calling it a figure felt inadequate for an entity that existed in ways his perception couldn’t fully process.
Flanking the Master’s throne were two smaller seats. To the right sat the Labyrinth Keeper, its form draped in robes that shifted between deep crimson and absolute black. The entity that had analyzed Alex’s abilities in the maze now watched with what might have been proprietary interest, like a researcher observing the performance of a particularly promising specimen.
The left seat remained empty clearly reserved for someone of significant rank within this hierarchy.
**[Warning: Hostile Entities Detected]**
**[Classification: UNKNOWN - Power Level Exceeds System Analysis Capability]**
**[Extreme Caution Advised]**
The Arena Warden strode toward the center of the fighting pit, its massive form commanding attention as it raised both arms. The crowd’s murmur died instantly. But instead of making its usual announcements, the Warden turned and began ascending toward the elevated seating section, moving with purpose toward that empty throne beside the Master.
When the Warden settled into the vacant seat, the hierarchy became clear. The Master at the center, flanked by the Labyrinth Keeper who had conducted psychological trials, and the Arena Warden who had overseen physical combat testing. Three entities who commanded this facility, each one responsible for different aspects of the prisoner evaluation system.
The Labyrinth Keeper leaned forward, and its voice carved meaning directly into Alex’s consciousness, bypassing sound entirely:
**"The interdimensional anomaly will demonstrate its capabilities first. All others—observe what it reveals before the final trial begins."**
Alex felt every eye in the arena fix on him with predatory intensity. The Keeper’s analysis had identified something about his Mimicry ability, something these entities found valuable enough to warrant special attention. Now they wanted a demonstration before the actual battle began.
Alex descended the entrance ramp alongside the Shadeborn, his boots touching the adaptive floor with each step. The material responded to his presence, solidifying beneath his feet while maintaining fluid flexibility everywhere else. Around the arena’s perimeter, other entrance ramps disgorged additional prisoners survivors from trials he’d never witnessed.
His Adept Eyes catalogued them automatically:
**[Chitinous Behemoth]** - A-Class, heavily scarred from previous battles
**[Void Stalker]** - S-Class, similar to the creature he’d fought but larger, more experienced
**[Crystalline Serpent]** - A-Class, its scales refracting light in hypnotic patterns
**[Storm Wyrm]** - S-Class, electricity crackling across its scaled hide
And more. Twelve prisoners total, each one representing the deadliest survivors from their respective trial systems. The mathematical brutality was elegant whatever testing had been conducted throughout this facility, these twelve represented the apex of what remained.
The Shadeborn positioned itself near Alex, its solid black eyes scanning the other prisoners with analytical precision. "The competition includes more S-Class than I anticipated," it observed quietly. "The Masters have been collecting specimens across multiple facilities."
The floor beneath Alex shifted, creating an isolated circle thirty meters in diameter. A barrier snapped into existence around the perimeter not to contain him, but to ensure the audience would have an unobstructed view of whatever was about to occur.
A gate on the far side of the arena ground open, and what emerged made Alex’s tactical mind immediately shift into combat assessment mode.
**[ Ravager]**
**[Rank:S-Class Beast]**
**[Primary Ability: Adaptive Evolution]**
**[Secondary Ability: Essence Predation]**
The creature was a nightmare of biological efficiency quadrupedal but capable of bipedal movement, covered in armored plates that shifted and reformed in response to perceived threats, multiple sensory organs that tracked him from angles that shouldn’t be physically possible. Its size rivaled the Devourer he’d faced in the cooperation trial, but this thing moved with intelligence that suggested individual consciousness rather than hive-directed action.
Alex created flames in both hands, the fire responding with precision that had been refined through weeks of arena combat. His Emergency Overdrive was still on cooldown for several more hours, but his natural abilities had evolved significantly since arriving in this place.
The Ravager studied him with disturbing patience, its multiple eyes cataloguing his stance, his essence signature, the way his flames danced around his fingers. Then it moved not with the blind aggression of a beast, but with calculated precision that spoke of tactical thinking.
Alex’s Combat Echo activated automatically, reading the creature’s movement patterns. Fire spiraled from his hands in the advanced constructs he’d learned from watching his duplicate, creating geometric barriers that channeled the creature’s approach while leaving openings for counterattack.
But the Ravager was learning.
Its armored plates reformed in real-time, adapting to the thermal signatures of his flames. Where his fire should have burned through biological tissue, instead it found heat-resistant plating that dispersed energy with mechanical efficiency. The creature’s Adaptive Evolution wasn’t just responding to damage it was predicting his attack patterns and preparing counters before he even committed to techniques.
The Ravager moved first.
It didn’t roar or posture. One moment it stood at the edge of the arena, the next it blurred across the shifting floor like a predator unshackled from weight. Each stride cracked the ground, essence leaking from its body in violent waves that made Alex’s own core ache in recognition.
He braced, fire snapping to life along his arms in two blazing arcs. He thrust them forward, shaping the flames into jagged lances that screamed through the air—only to watch the Ravager twist unnaturally, spine bending beyond reasonable limits, as it let the spears pass harmlessly by.
’It adapts even to intent.’
The Ravager closed the gap, claws like obsidian scythes slicing downward. Alex conjured a wall of fire, but the beast barreled through, heat rolling off its adaptive armor as though his flames were nothing but mist. The claws grazed his chest only barely before he twisted and used the momentum to hurl himself backward. Sparks trailed where the claws had kissed air a hair’s breadth from flesh.
**[HP: 112/120]**
The Shadeborn watchers did not cheer, did not murmur. They only observed.
Alex’s tactical mind raced through options. His ordinary flames wouldn’t break through evolved defenses. He needed to change his approach entirely.
The Ravager lunged again, faster now, each strike calibrated with mechanical precision, reading his reactions and tightening the net with every exchange. Alex retaliated with shifting constructs blades, whips, even a torrent of fire meant to overwhelm the arena. None of it worked. The beast’s armor shifted subtly each time, hardening where he struck, remaining flexible where it needed mobility.
’It’s learning me. I need to stop being predictable.’