Lucas walked quietly along the familiar streets of the city, hands shoved deep into his pockets, eyes fixed on the pavement. Above him, neon signs blinked slowly, reflecting distorted colors off puddles left by recent rain.
He could feel the edges of his new license pressing against his fingers, but what he couldn't feel was money. Not a single credit. The realization was heavy, a quiet reminder of his reality:
He was still broke.
He paused at the corner of a narrow street, glancing at his reflection in a darkened window. The person looking back at him appeared tired, hollow, and uncertain.
'Can't survive like this,' he thought bitterly. 'Not here. Not anywhere.'
He glanced upward, eyes narrowing toward the faint glow of the distant government portal facility. A massive structure, bright even against the gray sky, humming with power—connected directly to The Crucible. A place of danger, monsters, and death.
But also wealth.
His fingers tightened around the license again. He knew what he had to do.
Go back.
Hunt.
Collect Soul Cores, materials, items.
Sell them.
Survive.
Lucas took a deep breath, pulled his jacket tighter around him, and began walking again—toward the gates, toward that other world.
This time officially.
This time, prepared.
The government building was massive, stark white, and imposing—a monument of modern architecture, surrounded by guards wearing sleek armor and holding energy rifles. It stood at the edge of the city center, unmistakable against the backdrop of steel and glass skyscrapers.
Lucas approached slowly, blending into the stream of people heading towards the entrance.
He noticed others like him: young Awakeneds, many clearly traveling for the first time, nervously clutching their new licenses as they waited in line. Parents, mentors, and representatives hovered close, whispering encouragements or instructions.
Lucas moved silently into line.
When his turn came, a security guard extended a gloved hand. "License, please."
Lucas handed it over.
The guard scanned it briefly, the screen on his wrist device flashing green. "Flickering Soul. First trip?"
Lucas gave a short nod, eyes neutral. "Yeah."
"Welcome to the gate, kid," the guard said, handing the license back with casual disinterest. "Follow the signs. Gate, Crucible Central. Next."
Lucas moved forward into a long hallway lined with sleek metal doors, each humming faintly. Signs overhead directed travelers to different worlds and cities.
He found the gate.
It was an archway carved from obsidian-black stone, embedded seamlessly in modern technology. The air around it shimmered faintly, like heat rising from pavement.
He stepped toward it slowly, his pulse quickening.
One breath.
Two.
He stepped through.
The world blurred—
twisted—
and reformed.
Lucas was no longer on Earth.
The world reformed around him in an instant.
Lucas stood still, letting his senses adjust. The air was different—sharper, fresher, carrying the faint scent of wood smoke and cooking spices. Beneath his feet, smooth metal gave way to rough cobblestones, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps.
He raised his eyes slowly, breath catching in his throat.
The city stretched out before him, vast and sprawling, encircled by towering stone walls. Buildings made of timber and stone lined narrow, winding streets. People filled every alley, shouting merchants hawking goods, adventurers clad in worn leather armor bartering fiercely, and clusters of young Awakeneds like himself, wide-eyed and anxious.
At the city's heart stood an immense castle, rising above everything else—a dark silhouette of fortified towers and fluttering banners that bore crests he didn't recognize. Guards in silver armor patrolled its high walls, watchful and intimidating.
Lucas stepped forward, blending easily into the chaotic flow of the city.
He passed stalls stacked high with strange fruits and meats, smithies echoing with the clang of metal, and taverns bustling even at midday. Every face he saw held a story—some excited, others weary.
It was nothing like Earth.
It was loud, vibrant, dangerous, and alive.
Lucas paused, taking it all in, feeling strangely at ease in this unfamiliar world.
This was The Crucible.
And here, he was free to become whoever he wanted to be.
Lucas moved deeper into the city, drifting through the bustling crowds with practiced anonymity. He soon reached a central square, dominated by a large fountain carved into the likeness of a forgotten hero. Groups of people gathered in distinct clusters—each defined clearly by banners and emblems embroidered on fine clothes and armor.
Noble families.
They stood out starkly from everyone else. Their clothes were pristine, their weapons polished, and their bearing spoke of power and confidence. Representatives moved among younger Awakeneds, offering gentle smiles, friendly handshakes, and carefully worded promises.
Lucas stayed at the edges, observing quietly.
A young man in a white cloak spoke clearly to a nervous-looking teenager. "Join House Valerius. We offer training, protection, resources you won't find anywhere else."
Nearby, another representative—a woman with a stern gaze and silver-trimmed armor—addressed a group of hesitant newcomers. "House D'Arville values loyalty. Those who serve us faithfully will never lack strength or support."
Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the careful, rehearsed gestures. He could almost feel the strings attached to every word, every promise.
'They're looking for talent,' he thought cynically. 'Or tools.'
He turned away, uninterested in promises he knew would come with chains. He'd survived alone until now; he had no intention of changing that.
Still, he watched.
He learned.
He remembered their names, their emblems, their faces—committing them all to memory. In this world, information could be as valuable as gold.
He would make his own path, far from their reach.
But before he could slip away completely, a sudden commotion drew his attention to the far side of the square.
A hush fell over the crowded square.
Heads turned. Conversations ceased.
Lucas, standing at the outer edge, followed everyone's gaze instinctively toward the broad street that led directly to the castle gates.
There, flanked by rows of armored escorts, a girl walked steadily toward the towering gates.
Her presence alone commanded attention—slender but confident, she wore clothes of pristine white and silver embroidery. Long, flowing hair framed a face both gentle and determined. Bright eyes scanned the crowd briefly, unbothered by the countless stares fixed upon her.
Lucas caught murmurs from those nearby.
"That's Lyss," whispered an older woman with reverence. "From House Elysian."
A younger Awakened nearby nodded eagerly. "They say her family's among the strongest in the Crucible. She's already powerful, too, even at her age."
Lucas's gaze lingered, studying her closely.
Lyss Elysian.
A name he wouldn't soon forget.
She passed mere meters from him, oblivious to his presence, yet captivating. He could sense the quiet power radiating from her, concealed beneath a composed exterior.
The gates ahead swung open smoothly, revealing the inner sanctum of the castle. Her escorts moved in careful formation around her, protective and watchful as she stepped inside.
The gates closed silently behind her, leaving only whispers in her wake.
Lucas exhaled slowly.
He didn't know who she truly was, nor why someone like her had caught his attention so profoundly.
But as he turned to walk away, a single thought echoed through his mind:
'Interesting.'