The rocks below were uneven, cracked from ancient heat, and small pockets of fire burst from the ground like traps.
One misstep, and the whole structure of your balance went into a tango with gravity.
"Why do my legs feel like they're doing yoga in hell?" Victor growled, wobbling dangerously before correcting his core.
Some of the students were faring better—especially those who had put more points into agility. But even the best looked nervous as they neared the summit and finally saw a single black line stretching between death and destination.
The rope swayed gently in the high-altitude wind.
Below it was a flaming river, roaring with blistering heat that rose in pulsing waves.
Victor narrowed his eyes. "Oh, that's great. Just the perfect motivational setting."
Reed had already made it to the start of the rope, balancing like a tightrope walker who'd done this since birth. He waved. "Come on, slowpoke!"
