Dexter could've sworn he was on the seventh rock, just on the verge of reaching the next phase—yet somehow, he was back at the starting point. What's going on? he wondered.
How he ended up back at the starting point was a mystery, but he didn't have the luxury to stop and figure it out—he had to keep moving. Without wasting a second, he began climbing the rock again, determined to avoid whatever had brought him back the first time.
What began as pure determination slowly gave way to frustration. He fell from the rock countless times, growing sleepier with each passing second as his head throbbed and spun relentlessly. But every time, he forced himself back up—driven by sheer rage and mounting annoyance with the trial. His fingertips were bruised and bloodied, making each climb more agonizing than the last. His stomach twisted, hollow and aching, as if it were devouring itself.
With sheer determination and a burning desire to conquer the trial once and for all, he pushed himself onward, finally reaching the top of the rock. Without pause, he quickened his pace, leaping from one rock to the next until he reached the seventh. He drew a deep breath—and leaped.
But once again, he found himself back at the starting point. Frustration boiled over as he cursed and shouted at the Fate God. Yet, as he stood there yelling, the countdown began. Still fuming, Dexter had no choice but to start climbing again.
He climbed the rocks five times, only to be dragged back down each time. Thinking the path might be a trick, he tried swimming through the water instead—aiming to bypass the rocks. But the system pulled him back, issuing a stern warning: one more attempt like that would mean immediate disqualification.
Dexter was dying. Though he climbed faster than before, his fingertips were going numb, and hunger gnawed at him from the inside out.
He had no idea how much time had passed in the trial, but judging by how long each climb took, he figured it had been at least two or three days.
Dexter felt dizzy; his steps grew sluggish and his vision blurred. But he kept pushing forward. He'd always been physically lazy, but it was his determination and persistence that had made him a published author at just fourteen. So even as his body threatened to give out, his mind forced it to keep going.
He wasn't blind to how much he'd come to care for Daylan's family and loved ones. In his mind, he told himself he was just doing his part—doing the best he could before leaving when the time came. But the truth was, he would've done this trial a thousand times over in his previous life if it meant earning his parents' love and attention. That was the part he couldn't see clearly. He believed he was only acting the part, stepping into Daylan's role. But deep down, he was simply grateful for the chance to pour all his buried love and yearning into a family that might actually value it.
After what felt like an eternity of suffering, his mind also began to give him in. He stood before the portal, staring at it steadily—contemplating.
I'm tired! They won't be grateful anyway.
He shook his head and turned to just walk out of the portal. At that instant, something shot through his head. He clutched his head tightly.
This seems familiar… I think this is Daylan's brain. What an idiot! He gave up after a glance at the trial… wait, I get it!
What he remembered from Daylan's memory made his eyes widen, and the pain immediately ceased.
"He fought an ogre in the Luck Trial, but all the Worth Trial asked him to do was to give up?… what does that mean?"
The countdown began. He turned to the rock and started climbing, but his focus drifted from the task at hand to the thoughts swirling in his mind.
"Does that mean he was worth nothing? What was the theme?… what is the theme of this one though?"
As soon as he was teleported back, a sudden sense of relief coursed through his body and his eyes sparkled.
"I get it. This is an endurance test…" he turned to the portal. "I am always brought back here, hoping I give up and walk out of the portal."
The countdown began once more, but he paid no mind.
"Endurance can't be the meta, can it?"
He continued the trial, his mind pondering what the Meta was and why Daylan was asked to just give up on his Worth Trial.
"Something is wrong here." He muttered, gripping the rock.
"Daylan wasn't asked to secure a victory against the giant ogre… he was just asked to fight it. Fighting doesn't necessarily mean winning, does it? Were the Gods against him or something?"
Dexter tried his best to make sense of the situation and figure out how to win. But before long, he concluded.
"I get it… the system has always been far. None of Daylan's trials was about victory or success in the conventional way—it was about resilience, patience, and persistence.
During the Luck Trial, gave up after a few attempts against the Ogre. In the Worth Trial, he simply walked through the portal just because the system asked him to. He focused too much on victory even though the system didn't ask him to.
That might suggest that there is no final destination in the traditional sense—it's the process, my attitude towards it, and my growth through the cycle of trying and being brought back, that's the real Meta."
He burst into laughter.
"I now understand why most people fail this trial."
His realization sparked a surge of confidence. He pushed through his hunger and agony, each movement becoming more automatic.
His body adjusted to the repetition—he lifted himself with ease, his grip firm, while his mind wondered what his affinity would be.
Dexter lost track of time, but he pressed on.
His waistcoat and shirt were discarded, his fingertips stained with blood, and his body felt lightweight, sustained only by water.
After what seemed like an eternity, the system spoke up.
FATE TRIAL COMPLETED
Dexter stood before the portal. He jumped with a fist pump before dropping to the ground. He panted heavily as if his lungs were being crushed.
We did it, Daylan.
A sudden relief surged through his body. In that instant, a blue screen popped before him. The interface looked clean, with glowing elements and a futuristic, digital aesthetic.
FATE ABILITY UNLOCKED: SPIRAL SYSTEM]
You feel it. The rhythm. The cycle. The endless loop beneath all things.
All things grow when they tarn. All truths are found in layers. All power builds when cycled.
[CORE ABILITY: SPIRAL FORCE]
Type: Novice Ability
Trait: Repetition breeds evolution. Each consecutive action increases in strength, precision, and intent.
Mechanic:
Repeat a move or action = Amplify its power.
Break the flow = Reset the spiral.
First step: control. Second step: speed. Third step: destruction.
Spiral, huh? Interesting… I thought Fate Trial abilities began at an Advanced level, not novice. Well then, let's see what else Spiral has in store for me.
—
[SUB-ABILITIES UNLOCKED]
1. Spiral Edge
Your body remembers. Each strike sharpens the edge of motion. Repeating attacks become blindingly fast and devastating.
Effect: Each identical strike increases in power (+2% per cycle).
Signature: Cyclone Knuckle—A storm-forged punch that drills into enemies like a tornado of pain.
2. Spiral Time
The world bends to your will… briefly. Loop seconds. Rewrite fate.
Effect: Rewind up to 4 seconds. Max 3 loops per use.
Each loop improves your reaction, precision, and decision-making.
Signature: Loop Sync—Perfect synchronization of mind, body, and shadow for flawless execution.
3. Spiral Form
You build not with hands, but with thoughts. Concepts become real, one layer at a time.
Effect: Construct weapons, barriers, or spells from mental layering.
More complex forms require greater understanding.
Signature: Soul Spiral—Forge a weapon from your will, shaped by your essence.
4. Spiral Mind
You step into thought. Not just yours… but others.
Effect: Sense, echo, or distort another's thought patterns.
At high risk, enter the deep spiral—where identity bends.
Signature: Fractal Echo—Embed recursive thought into an enemy's mind. Make them question reality.
[LIMITATIONS]
Overuse causes Spiral Burn: mental fragmentation or nerve damage.
Spiral Break: If interrupted, all spiral stacks reset.
Understanding is key: You can't build what you don't comprehend.
—-
Dexter smirked.
"I get it… the trial determines the ability. It's meant to test whether you can handle it. So, the trial never really ends." He let out a weary sigh.
Before he knew it, the pain and exhaustion from the past two weeks overtook him, and he finally succumbed to sleep.
As he slept, it felt as though all his pain had faded away. His muscles relaxed, his stomach felt satisfyingly full, and his limbs were stronger than ever. Bursting with newfound energy, he continued to sleep, snoring softly on the ground, stretching and shifting to find a more comfortable position.
After a while, Dexter instinctively pulled himself out of sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself to his feet and glanced at his palm—the sleep hadn't been a dream? His body felt stronger, and his wounds were gone.
He tilted his head upward with a smirk. I never knew you cared for me, God of Fate.
Dexter was exhausted and longed to sleep, but he knew his family and Medora would be worried sick. He had to return, at least to show them he had passed. But he wasn't about to reveal the full extent of his abilities to anyone.
He had no idea what awaited him beyond the portal, but one thing was certain—he wasn't about to reveal the full scope of his abilities.
Time reversal and mind reading weren't secrets he could afford to share with the world.
I must do my best to keep them hidden.
Dexter braced himself and took steady steps toward the portal.
As soon as he passed through the portal, before him were two gentlemen in two suits.
"Daylan!!" Medora and Zira. They dashed toward him and wrapped their hands around him.
"Congratulations, Daylan," Medora said, wearing a proud expression.
Dexter smiled. "Thanks… but where's mother?"