CHAPTER 48: PSEUDO-SOURCE WELL
The hall slowly came to life as more and more participants woke up. Every one of them had been affected by the experience in one way or another; some were laughing, others even cried, hugging their comrades, but most just sat in silence, processing what they'd been through.
John's group stayed huddled together near the pillars, waiting for the remaining members.
Minutes passed. Then some more.
Sylas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes half-closed. Amara was sharpening her claws with a small stone, her ears flat.
Thalia sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers steepled, deep in thought. Liora stood apart, watching the crowd with those ink-black eyes. Nyara was still playing with her Rubik's Cube; she had become a master at it by now.
Nico was spaced out, looking bored, when suddenly he caught sight of two identical-looking boys coming together.
His eyes widened. "Finally."
He shot up so fast he nearly tripped.
"Hey, guys. Look."
John and the others followed his gaze. The twins were walking toward them—Orion and Lucian. And from the looks of it, they were in the middle of a heated argument.
"I'm telling you, it was your fault," Lucian said, gesturing wildly.
"My fault? You pushed me."
"Yes, but I was trying to save your life."
"Oh, and you did, splendidly, I must say."
Lucian's eye twitched. "Okay, fine. But you're also to blame. Who told you to make such a weak puppet? If that scrap metal hadn't broken, I wouldn't have needed to push you in the first place. Then we'd both still be alive."
"Hey, don't you dare talk about my puppets." Orion jabbed a finger at him. "Even if the puppet was stronger, that girl would have clobbered us anyway. Besides, we're still alive, aren't we?"
"No, we both died, then came back to life. Big difference."
"That's not the point."
"That's exactly the point."
They reached the group still bickering, neither willing to back down.
Nico stared at them. "Well, I see you two haven't changed much from that whole ordeal. Did you guys survive?"
"NO," they said in unison, then immediately glared at each other.
Nico raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm not getting between you two."
The twins kept glaring at each other, but before anyone could say another word, the movement of two people approaching them caught their attention.
It was Elowen and Malric.
And to John's shock, they were holding hands.
John was speechless. Nico's mouth opened slightly. Even the twins forgot their argument for a moment.
They watched in silence as the pair approached. Elowen's wings were folded loosely behind her, her face calm but carrying a faint smile. Malric walked beside her, his usual stern expression softened—just barely.
As they got closer, John finally spoke.
"When the fuck did this happen?"
Amara's ears perked as she turned her head. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Malric confessed while they were fighting. You should have seen it—Malric was acting like a shy girl, and Elowen's head literally turned red. It was so cute, right, girls?"
All three of the other girls present—Liora, Thalia, Nyara—gave a nod.
Nico's head snapped toward her. "Wait… what?"
Sylas, who had been half-asleep against the wall, opened one eye. "Well, I am glad he finally manned up. It was getting painful to watch him act like a lovestruck idiot."
Nico burst out laughing as soon as he heard Sylas's comment.
"Wait, wait, wait—so you're telling me that guy actually confessed? Wow, I thought he was going to carry it to his grave."
Malric and Elowen finally reached them, though both of them had turned red. "Hey, guys."
"Hello, love birds, I see you two are doing well."
Elowen's cheeks flushed slightly. "Nico, please."
"Hey, I'm happy for you; that's all I am saying." Nico held up his hands, grinning.
Amara smirked as she said. "So, you thought confessing your love in the middle of a death battle was a good move? Bold."
"That's none of your business," Malric said flatly.
"Of course it is," Thalia said, crossing her arms. "You've just taken our beautiful Elowen from us."
Malric's jaw tightened. "You too, Thalia."
Liora added with a faint smile, "All the girls here will need to conduct a full inspection before this can be official, isn't that right, Amara?"
"Absolutely."
Elowen turned toward them with a pout. "Hey, stop that."
Just as John opened his mouth to say something. He saw Adam and Thomas approaching.
Adam looked worn out but otherwise fine. Thomas, however, was walking with his head low, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the ground.
Nico's grin faded.
"What's wrong with him?" Nico muttered.
John followed his gaze. His chest tightened.
They reached the group. Adam looked exhausted, but he managed a weak smile.
"Hey," he said. "We made it."
Thomas didn't say anything. He just stood there, staring at the floor.
John stepped forward. "Thomas?"
No response.
John placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Talk to me."
Thomas's jaw tightened. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, barely above a whisper.
"I died."
John squeezed his shoulder. "No. That was a lie. It wasn't real. Don't beat yourself up over it."
Thomas shook his head; eyes still fixed on the ground. "It's not that I died. Not really." His voice cracked. "It's how. I was helpless. Weak. Useless." He swallowed hard. "I tried. I really did. But in the end... I wasn't strong enough."
He finally looked up. His eyes were red, but no tears fell.
"And that makes me angry," he said, voice trembling. "Angry at myself. That I still haven't changed. Even after all this time, I'm still just a weak, helpless nobody."
Adam let out a long breath. "To be fair, those guys were just too much. Doesn't mean you're weak."
Thomas's jaw tightened. "That doesn't make it better."
"I know." Adam's voice softened. "But it's worth remembering."
Thomas was quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head.
"Doesn't change the fact that I couldn't do anything."
John was silent for a long moment.
"Then change it."
Thomas looked up.
John met his gaze. "You're still alive. That means you can still get stronger." He paused. "We all can."
Nico stepped forward, crossing his arms. "John's right. We've been through hell, but I don't think any of us really understood what we were getting into. Not until now." He paused. "I know I didn't. But from now on? I'm making sure that doesn't happen again."
Sylas spoke next, voice flat. "That means no more wasting energy on people who won't do the same for us."
Liora nodded. "Not until we can afford to."
Thomas looked around at them. His eyes were still red, but something shifted in his expression.
"...You guys really mean that?"
Amara shrugged. "I'm not going to say anything deep. Just know I'm with you."
Nico grinned, the tension breaking slightly. "Wow. That was almost nice of you."
"Shut up."
Thomas let out a breath.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Let's get stronger. Together."
And everyone nodded at those words.
But not even seconds later, a terrifying pressure descended upon the room.
The air grew heavy. Suffocating.
The branch leaders materialized in the air, their presence pressing down on everyone below. At the center, elevated above the rest, was the Supreme One.
His face was empty of any emotion. With a simple sweep of his hand, everyone who had passed the first trial disappeared, teleported elsewhere.
The others—Nico, Thomas, the twins, Amara—stood alone in confusion, wondering where the rest had gone.
But before they could do anything, Rauk appeared in front of them.
"Follow me. We're going back to our branch."
Nico opened his mouth, ready to argue. But he knew it was futile, so he followed, and so did the others.
The same scene played out across the hall. Some groups were led away by their branch leaders because no one passed, and there were a lot of them.
But it was expected.
Only thirty-six had passed the trial.
And the fact that John's group held seven of those spots was nothing short of a miracle.
***
John was sharing a moment with his group one second, and the next he found himself in another place.
He let out a sigh.
This seems to be happening a little too frequently for my liking.
[Well, you better get used to it.]
It was peaceful for a while; now you are here to annoy me again.
[I was being considerate, but now I see no need for it.]
He looked around. The others who had passed were scattered across a vast, open chamber. John spotted Sylas nearby. Liora. Malric. Elowen. Adam. Nyara. Thalia. The rest of the thirty-six who had passed.
Then the Supreme One appeared.
He materialized at the center of the chamber, hands clasped behind his back, a smile playing on his lips.
"Welcome," he said, his voice echoing through the space. "You are the ones who have proven yourselves worthy enough to proceed."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"This is both a trial and an opportunity. A chance to grow stronger than you've ever been." His smile widened. "I assume you all know what Source Wells are."
That got their attention.
"Good." The Supreme One clasped his hands together. "For those who don't, let me explain."
He began to pace slowly, his voice carrying easily through the chamber.
"The Source is the origin of all existence. The beginning of everything. Every force, every law, every life came from it."
He stopped and turned to face them.
"A Source Well is a fragment of that origin—a pocket of concentrated Source Energy. Raw. Unrefined. Incredibly potent. These Wells are places of trial, created by the Origin Archive itself to test those who seek power. The trials vary. The difficulty varies. What you encounter varies. But one thing remains constant: the Archive regulates everything."
He smiled faintly.
"Now, what do you gain if you succeed?"
He let the question hang.
"Source Energy. A fragment of the very substance that birthed the cosmos. Enough to elevate your existence—strengthen your domain, refine your pathways, push you closer to the next stage of power. More than that, you will begin to build your legend. A legend recognized by the universe itself."
He paused.
"And today, you will be entering one."
The room went cold.
Thirty-six faces froze. Some paled. Others tensed. John felt his own chest tighten.
But the Supreme One raised a hand, calm and dismissive.
"Relax. It's not a real Source Well. That would be far beyond your current capabilities." He chuckled softly. "This is a pseudo-well—a replica, crafted with the help of our glorious god. Safe enough for those below Tier Three. But challenging enough to separate the worthy from the weak. It will also rank you. All of you, based on your performance."
He looked at them with a glint of amusement.
"But beware…"
His smile sharpened.
"Death is a very real possibility."