UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 104: Greed

The air was thick with tension, the murmurs of thousands of spectators blending into a dull roar. The sun hung high over the Bloodrose Arena, casting long shadows over the ancient stone. A hundred gates, glowing with an ethereal light, stretched in an endless line, each one pulsing with an unseen force.

At first, no one moved. The hundred glowing gates stood before them, an open challenge, yet every student knew the moment they stepped forward, their truth would be exposed.

Then, someone moved.

A girl with short brown hair took a deep breath and stepped through the first gate. Nothing happened. She walked through the second. Third. Fourth.

Then, by the ninth gate, she stumbled. A sharp pressure weighed on her shoulders. She grit her teeth, forcing herself forward, but as she crossed the tenth gate, she collapsed to the ground, gasping.

"No! No! No! I can do more, please one more chance!"

A murmur spread through the crowd.

Another student followed. He barely reached the seventh gate.

More and more stepped forward, some pushing past ten, some barely managing five. A few students reached twenty, but none went beyond thirty in the first few minutes.

Ned stood before them, inhaling deeply. He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar power surge through his body, his red Neba, his Zetten blood. He had been born different, gifted with something few others possessed. But was it truly a gift?

No, to him, it had always been a curse. A mark that set him apart, that made others look at him with fear, with hatred. But that was why he fought. He never wanted to rely on being special, he wanted to earn his power. He wanted to prove himself.

"Go, Ned!" Atlas' voice rang out from behind.

Dune nodded beside him, his sharp eyes locked onto Ned's back. "You got this."

Ned didn't respond. He stepped forward.

The moment he crossed the first gate, an invisible weight settled on his shoulders. It was strange, not like physical pressure, but something deeper, something inside him. It clawed at his soul, testing him. But he gritted his teeth and kept walking.

Two gates. Five gates.

The pressure intensified, creeping into his mind. He felt something pulling at him, a force beyond explanation. But he pushed on.

Ten gates.

His breathing grew heavy. Around him, other students walked too, some stopping, collapsing to their knees before even reaching here. But others... others were still going. Some walked past him. Ned ignored them, forcing himself forward.

Twelve gates.

The pain was getting unbearable. His muscles tensed, his vision blurred, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Thirteen.

His feet felt like they were sinking into the stone. Was it supposed to be this hard? No, he was stronger than this.

Fourteen.

Ned clenched his fists. He was going to break past this. He would-

Fifteen.

His body froze.

Something cracked inside him. Not a bone, not a muscle, something deeper. His soul. It felt like it was shattering.

His knees buckled and the world spun, he fell. For a moment, it felt like the entire arena had gone quiet. And then... whispers.

Ned's fingers dug into the stone as he tried to push himself up, but his body refused to move. Rage boiled inside him, not at the others, but at himself. No! No! No!

How?

How could i fail?

He had trained, fought, pushed himself harder than anyone. He never relied on his birthright, he earned his power. So why?

Why was he so weak?

His vision blurred, not from pain, but from the burning heat behind his eyes. He wanted to scream, to stand up and prove them all wrong, but his body betrayed him.

Ned remained on his knees, his hands pressed against the cold stone beneath him. His breath was uneven, his body trembling, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of failure crushing down on him.

Around him, other students continued forward, stepping past him like he was nothing. He could hear them whispering, their voices blending together into a suffocating haze.

But then, among the noise, came footsteps.

Ned didn't look up, but he could feel his presence. Unlike the others, Dune didn't walk past him. He stopped. And then, slowly, he knelt beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter," Dune said, his voice steady, unwavering.

Ned's fingers twitched. He heard the words, but they barely registered.

"This test doesn't change anything," Dune continued. "You're strong, and you'll keep getting stronger. You know that. Don't let this—" his eyes flickered toward the gates, toward the watching crowd, "...or them, define you."

Ned swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

He wanted to believe it. He really did. But how could he? Fifteen. That was all he managed.

Ned finally glanced at him. For a second, just a second, their eyes met. Dune meant what he said. He wasn't mocking him. He wasn't pitying him.

But that only made it worse.

Because it wasn't Dune's fault that Ned had failed. It was his own.

Dune stood up, his black and red Bloodrose Academy uniform shifting slightly with the movement. Atlas was waiting beside him. The two of them exchanged a look, one of understanding, of unspoken determination.

Then, without another word, they continued forward.

And as Ned watched them walk, watched them pass him, a sharp, twisting feeling built inside him.

It was as if something inside him was unraveling, a deep, seething hatred directed at his own weakness. He should be there too. He should be standing beside them. But he wasn't.

Instead, he was stuck here. Left behind.

His fists clenched.

And as Dune and Atlas took their steps forward, their figures growing smaller in the distance, one thought consumed Ned's mind.

I will never be left behind again.