The air between Jaemin and the towering Iron Golem crackled with tension.
CLICK—CLANG!
His twin daggers—Binary Stars—struck the Golem's obsidian armour, sending sharp, ringing echoes through the hollow platform. The blades glanced off with sparks flying, unable to pierce deep.
Jaemin's gaze narrowed, eyes sharp and calculating. The Golem had no glyph, no visible weakness. Just brute steel and relentless force.
He shifted his weight, muscles rippling under his tight black t-shirt. The fabric stretched taut across his broad chest and carved abs. His arms, lean but defined, flexed with every movement—every strike.
CLANK!
The Golem swung a massive fist, slower than Jaemin but impossible to dodge completely. Jaemin rolled under the blow, feeling the air compress as the fist smashed the platform where he had stood a second before.
He rose quickly, breathing steadily despite the adrenaline flooding his veins.
"No glyph. No elemental weakness."
"That means it's raw strength versus raw strength."
He eyed the Golem's heavy armour plates—smooth and unyielding. Slashing wouldn't work.
Instead, he switched tactics.
With a sudden burst, Jaemin dashed forward—his legs pushing off the platform with tight control. His movements were a perfect balance of power and grace, every step measured and precise.
CLINK!
His daggers hooked under the Golem's arm joint, gripping the metal with surprising force.
With a grunt, he planted his feet firmly, bracing his entire body.
Then, he pulled.
CREAK…
The Golem's massive arm shifted slightly—imprecise, but a crack in the armour.
Jaemin didn't waste the moment.
He spun backward, swinging one dagger upward, slicing a deep gash along the inner plating. The black metal resisted, but the dagger scored a line—enough to weaken the joint.
The Golem roared—a sound like grinding stone.
Jaemin's shirt clung to his sweat-slicked skin, highlighting the lean muscle in his arms and shoulders as he readied for the next move.
He wasn't just fighting; he was dancing with the beast—fluid, powerful, controlled.
BAM!
The Golem charged, its heavy feet pounding the platform with each step.
Jaemin leapt back just in time, narrowly avoiding a crushing stomp. The impact sent cracks radiating across the stone.
"This thing's a tank."
The Golem swung again—slow but devastating.
Jaemin ducked, rolling under its swing, and came up behind it. He planted a sharp dagger into the back of its knee joint.
The Golem faltered.
Seizing the moment, Jaemin wrapped his arms around the massive leg and used all his strength—his lean frame tensed, veins visible along his forearms as he strained.
With a loud CRACK, the joint gave way.
The Iron Golem stumbled.
Jaemin smiled grimly.
"Not just fast. Strong as hell, too."
He pushed forward, jumping onto the Golem's knee, then vaulting up onto its broad back.
The Golem tried to shake him off, but Jaemin held firm, his muscular legs gripping tight.
Using all his power, he drove his dagger repeatedly into the vulnerable joint in the neck.
Each strike sent thin cracks spiderwebbing through the obsidian armour.
The Golem bellowed, thrashing wildly.
Jaemin's breath came hard, sweat dripping down his temples, but he didn't relent.
With a final explosive effort, he grabbed the back of the Golem's head and heaved with every ounce of strength, muscles bulging beneath his tight black shirt.
The obsidian cracked loudly, like glass breaking.
The Golem's eyes dimmed.
Its heavy frame collapsed, shattering the platform beneath with a THUD.
Jaemin landed gracefully on the ground, chest rising and falling, veins visible on his neck and forearms—a portrait of raw physical power and cold precision.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes already fixed on the next challenge: the floating platforms leading up to the Core.
The Golem's body hissed and cracked. Its obsidian skin began steaming as the corrupted core inside dissolved, crumbling the giant from within.
Jaemin stood over it, jaw clenched. His sharp eyes watched the light fade from the creature's coreless frame. But he wasn't done.
Not yet.
He narrowed his eyes.
Residual.
The Golem's obsidian plating didn't disintegrate like most Rift beasts. In fact, large chunks of its body remained intact—dense, black armour-like fragments that glinted faintly in the Rift light.
His boot rose. With a single, brutal stomp—
CRACK!
The body of the Iron Golem snapped like dry ice under pressure, the sound ringing through the empty platform. Its shattered head skidded off the edge, tumbling into the wind tunnel below. But more importantly, the force split open the carapace along the shoulders and chest.
Jagged slivers of obsidian skin broke free.
Jaemin crouched, swept up a few fist-sized chunks, and pocketed them in the inner folds of his jacket. Even a little of this material would sell high in the upper districts. Alchemists loved Abyssal obsidian. With just a handful, he could cover groceries for two months or refill Nari's med-kit stocks.
He stood and exhaled.
The wind howled louder now. The pressure was changing.
Jaemin looked up.
Above him, the next floating platform barely peeked through the spiraling mist. It was easily seventy meters up—straight vertical. No ropes. No ladders. No support.
Just air and an impossible climb.
And worse—he could make out the faint silhouettes of other platforms stretching into the sky, layer after layer, each staggered and spinning like drifting tectonic plates.
"Two hundred..."
He muttered. "And I've only reached one."
He grit his teeth.
"There has to be a way."
Jumping was impossible. Not at this height. Not without some kind of propulsion. And he wasn't dumb enough to burn core energy on random leaps—if anything, his reserves needed saving for what was above.
So he paused.
And thought.
Wind.
He closed his eyes. Listened. The storm didn't swirl randomly—it was structured. A cyclone. A large one. Which meant that within the eye, the wind currents had patterns. Steady ones. Updrafts. Downbursts.
Jaemin stepped toward the platform's edge and dropped a shard of obsidian.
It vanished from sight immediately.
But he watched. Carefully.
Seconds passed.
The shard rose again.
Not straight up—but with a spiral motion. Like it had been caught in a rising draft that swirled up the eye wall of the storm.
Jaemin's eyes sharpened.
"There's a current… that moves upward in spirals."
He murmured.
"Like a thermal lift inside a hurricane... which means if I can catch it—"
He took a step back and scanned the cliff-like platform walls surrounding him. Jagged rock. Ruptured spires of black metal jutted out from earlier battle damage.
There. A fractured column angled like a ramp near the edge. Slightly curved.
His mind fired.
If he could sprint up that broken arc and time a leap with the natural burst of the updraft, he could catch the wind. Not enough to fly, but maybe enough to reach the next platform—if he curled himself properly to reduce drag and increase vertical torque.
He looked down at his body.
He wasn't heavy. That helped.
He wasn't bulky either, not like the muscle-brutes from some Covenants. His physique was lean—cords of strength wrapped around bone. That gave him the balance of power and speed he needed.
He stepped back.
Deep breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He exploded forward.
His feet pounded the platform, the obsidian fragments crunching underfoot. With a burst of momentum, he sprinted up the jagged column—each step measured and placed with surgical precision. As he reached the tip of the arc—
SHOOOM!
The wind shifted.
Jaemin leapt.
The force met him head-on, like a wall of pressure, but he twisted midair, body tight, arms locked to his sides, legs extended. He angled his shoulders forward—catching the spiralling lift.
He began to rise.
Not fly. Not soar.
But rise—spinning with the wind, pulled upward like a leaf in a controlled cyclone.
His eyes stayed open the whole time.
And then—
The second platform neared.
Jaemin rotated once midair, extended a foot, and kicked off the air itself with a snap of core energy to stabilise.
THUD!
He landed in a crouch, one knee down, breathing hard but controlled. No stumble. No wasted motion.
He stood.
"Alright."
He muttered.
"One more down."
He looked up again.
The floating tower of platforms awaited—spiraling higher, disappearing into the swirling silver-blue stormlight above.
Each ascent would be harder.
Each updraft more unstable.
But now he had a method. He had the physics. He had the body.
And more importantly—
He had the mind to climb all the way to the top.
Jaemin stood atop the second platform, wind curling around his ankles, the storm rumbling above like a breathing monster. He looked up.
The next floating step was even farther.
Too far.
The spiral updraft had helped once, but he already felt the air thinning, the drafts less stable at this height. His gaze flicked between platforms. The next was rotating faster—almost like a saw blade slicing through clouds.
"That wind trick's not gonna work again."
He muttered, breathing out slowly.
"And I doubt there's a nicely angled ramp waiting for me on every level…"
He stepped to the edge again, squinting at the path above.
"If I could chain jumps… no. Not enough leverage."
"If I flare my aura mid-air, maybe I can course-correct but—"
"Too much waste. I'd burn through core energy before platform twenty."
His fists clenched.
"Dammit…"
He turned slightly.
Click.
A soft, almost polite sound behind him.
His senses flared.
"Who's there?"
From the shadows near the curved edge of the platform, something stepped out.
Not one. But five.
"Abyssal Testers."
But these weren't beasts like the others. No slavering jaws or insectoid screeches. These moved like humans—too human. Shadows wrapped around them like cloaks, shifting across humanoid frames of wiry muscle and sharp edges. Their armour wasn't natural—it was made of bone. Sleek, dark bone plates that flexed as they moved.
Their eyes glowed dull violet, like low-burning coals.
Jaemin's jaw tightened.
"Great."
He muttered.
"You look smart."
The lead Abyssal tilted its head—not with confusion, but understanding.
It raised a hand.
The other four spread out in silence.
"They're flanking me."
Jaemin stepped back, letting the wind at his back swirl his hair.
His tight black shirt stretched over his core as he tensed, his lean muscles shifting like pulled wire beneath his skin.
"They're coordinated…"
He whispered, eyes tracking every step.
"And quiet."
He dropped into a low stance.
Binary Stars.
He summoned them in a shimmer of violet-cyan light—two short daggers, curved, perfectly balanced. They clicked into his palms with a flash of sharp metal.
The Abyssals didn't rush.
They analysed.
Testing.
"That's new."
The lead one stepped forward, the others circling him like wolves around a fire.
Jaemin exhaled once, then charged first.
CLANG!
His right blade met a bone-spear—one of the Abyssals had extended its wrist, morphing it into a jagged, serrated spike.
Jaemin ducked under a backhand slash and swept low, knocking the attacker off balance.
KRAK!
He pivoted into an elbow strike to its gut—solid. Too solid. He backflipped away as a second Abyssal lunged with claws aimed at his back.
He grunted.
"These guys… aren't brutes."
No wasted movement.
They fought like a team.
The third came in from the side. Jaemin parried the first jab but saw the feint—ducked just as a fourth Abyssal's bladed leg swung over his head like a guillotine.
SHHINK!
It missed by inches.
Jaemin kicked back—heel-first—right into one of their chests.
THUD!!
It flew backward, crashing into the platform wall.
Three to go.
"TCH."
He spun both daggers backward now, blade down. The fifth Abyssal had vanished from his sight.
"Where the hell—"
CRASH!
A jagged bone-spear exploded upward from beneath him—ambush. Jaemin barely twisted aside, but the edge of his shirt tore as the spike ripped the side of his shirt open, slicing his side.
"Shit—"
Blood trailed, but he moved before pain caught up. He twisted his body mid-roll, his lean, toned torso slick with rain and sweat as he dodged another strike, this time aimed for his neck.
His back hit the ground.
One Abyssal leapt for him—arm poised.
Jaemin grabbed the spear with both hands—and grunted.
"RRRAGHH!!"
He kicked up with his core, wrenching the creature's weight with him. It flipped midair—just long enough for Jaemin to spin and slam a dagger into its throat.
"KRRCHK!!"
It gurgled—violet ichor splashing down.
Four left.
No time to breathe.
They swarmed now.
Jaemin jumped back, dagger in one hand, flipping the second into a reverse grip.
He dashed forward again—this time twisting through their coordinated attacks like a cyclone himself. His shirt clung to him now, torn at the sides, exposing the sculpted obliques of his abdomen. Blood painted his hip. His breath grew sharper.
But his eyes?
Sharper still.
He blocked one strike with his forearm—used the rebound to launch a knee into the second Abyssal's chest. It stumbled, killing it.
Jaemin turned—stabbed the other through the back of its neck with a grunt.
Two left.
They stopped.
Realigned.
Jaemin smirked, panting.
"Not bad…"
His hand trembled slightly. Just slightly. The adrenaline burned like fire in his blood.
"Too bad you didn't come alone."
He pushed forward again—now using his surroundings.
He used a chunk of flying debris as a springboard, flipping above the remaining pair. As they jumped to meet him midair—
He flared a spark of aura into his boot—
KRAK!!
He kicked downward, slamming one Abyssal's skull into the stone platform.
Then landed, spun, and jammed his second dagger into the final one's ribs.
It hissed—but that's all.
Then went still.
Silence returned.
Only the sound of Jaemin's ragged breathing.
He dropped his weapons. Let them dissolve.
And stood.
Blood on his side. Shirt torn. Chest rising and falling. His body glistened under the Riftlight—sweat-slick, cut up, and tense.
He looked up again.
The next platform.
"I'll need to kill my way up at this rate."
He muttered, voice low.
Jaemin exhaled slowly, scanning the vast emptiness between platforms. The next one sat high above, maybe thirty meters — no way to leap it, no clear path, and the wind updrafts were dying out.
"No glyphs. No chains. Nothing to anchor."
He muttered.
"Of course they wouldn't make it easy."
He paced for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed on the edge of the platform — not above, but below.
The entire underside was studded with rock formations, roots, and bone-like extensions, twisting in random directions. Some of them reached downward like the roots of an inverted tree, petrified and rough, like something had once grown here and died mid-bloom.
He crouched down, studying the surface of the current platform.
Small gaps. Fractures in the stone — some wide enough to wedge fingers into.
Jaemin clicked his tongue.
"Not elegant, but it'll work."
He extended his arms to stretch.
Veins flexed across his forearms as he placed both hands to the edge of the platform and leaned forward, letting himself dangle over the abyss.
There — a crooked root, just two meters down. He swung his legs, built up momentum, and dropped.
His fingers caught it — his arms straining for a split second — then he pulled up, smooth and controlled, knees bent.
Jaemin began to climb.
It was a reverse wall — not straight, but messy, uneven, like nature's own rock wall flipped upside down. He grabbed onto jutting roots, dug his fingers into gaps in the obsidian stone, using leverage from his legs to push upward.
His muscles tensed — back, shoulders, and arms all moving in sync as he climbed vertically, like a panther scaling a cliff.
Sweat rolled down the side of his face.
"I swear, if the thing at the top isn't worth it—"
He growled under his breath.
One of the rock grips cracked.
He reacted instantly — hand shooting to the side, catching a bone-stalk just as the old root snapped off and spiraled into the storm below.
"Keep climbing."
He whispered to himself.
"One meter at a time."
Another leap. Another lunge.
The wind thrashed around him, trying to shake him loose — but his grip held. His biceps flexed visibly beneath the strain as he hauled himself from one jagged grip to another, teeth clenched, breath measured.
Finally — after a long, brutal stretch — his hand caught the edge of the next platform.
He pulled.
SHHK—THUMP.
His body swung upward, landing hard onto the stone with a roll, one hand planted against the ground.
He stayed down for a moment, catching his breath. Then stood, brushing dust from his hands and muttering:
"Never doing that again."
He cracked his neck once.
Then looked up.
Another platform down. A few more left to go.
Jaemin stood up, breathing slowly, eyes scanning the surface of the new platform. No enemies. No movement. Just a strange, pulsing blue-red glow seeping from a jagged crevice near the centre.
He stepped closer.
It wasn't just light. It was heat—dense, pressurised, unnatural.
"Abyssal Flame..."
He muttered.
The tongue of fire danced unnaturally above the stone. No fuel. No smoke.
Just a weightless column of flickering helllight, burning so hot that even the stone beneath it looked partially melted and twisted.
It whispered, faintly—like it was alive.
He crouched down, inches from it, instinctively squinting. The heat was intense, but not unapproachable. Dangerous to touch directly, sure—but usable.
He held up one of his daggers—Binary Star. The obsidian steel caught the light of the flame, shimmering faintly.
"...If this stuff causes abyss burns..."
He murmured, his eyes narrowing,
"Then let's burn something that deserves it."
He reached the blade toward the fire—not into it, but just enough to touch the outer layer of the flame.
FWOOOSH.
The daggers ignited—silent, instant. The aura around the blade darkened to a deep crimson-black, veins of abyssal energy snaking across the metal, vibrating softly in his hand.
Jaemin hissed.
"Damn, it's hot."
But it held.
The flame didn't consume the blade. It coated it.
Suddenly, a sound—movement above.
He looked up.
The next platform wasn't far—maybe ten meters—but it was much smaller, and worse:
Swarming.
Five… no, seven Abyssals. Their armour glinted dark green, their heads insect-like, each one twitching and sniffing the air. Long, clawed limbs.
Razor limbs perfect for short-range skirmishes. If he landed there, he'd be fighting elbow to elbow on unstable ground.
No space. No cover. No guarantee of winning, no matter how skilled.
"...Combat's a bad idea there."
He muttered.
But his eyes drifted lower—at the platform itself.
It looked brittle.
Cracks ran through its base. Not like the one he stood on now. This one looked like it had been patched together by Rift decay.
A plan clicked.
Jaemin looked back at his flaming dagger, then up again.
"If I can't fight 'em…"
He reared back.
"...then I'll drop them."
He locked his footing, body coiled, breath controlled. His arm tensed, and he hurled the dagger—not at the monsters, but directly into the centre of the platform.
SHHH-THWAK!
The flaming dagger impaled the stone. For half a second, nothing happened.
Then—
CRACKKKK——BOOM!!
The abyssal flame detonated on impact. Not explosive like fire—but consuming. The flame burrowed into the platform, spreading fissures like red lightning.
The entire stone shelf trembled beneath the weight of its own corruption.
The Abyssals shrieked, scrambling.
But it was too late.
The platform shattered.
Like glass punched through from the centre, it split into chunks, plummeting downward into the heart of the storm below.
The Rift creatures fell with it, screeching until they were swallowed by the black.
Jaemin stood still, watching his daggers vanish in the flames.
"…Shit."
He sighed.
"That was one of my good ones."
He looked up.
The next platform wasn't as close—maybe fifteen meters now.
A bit higher, but this one was wide. Empty, from what he could see. No movement. Maybe safe.
He rolled his shoulders, bent his knees, then backed up to the edge of his current one.
"Time to climb again, or die trying.
He said.
Jaemin hesitated for a moment.
Climbing would take too long. Too much energy. And with this storm, and the sheer number of platforms left—he couldn't afford to be slow.
He turned and looked around—the aftermath of the exploded platform had rattled the local gravity. Dozens of broken shards now floated in place between him and the next ledge.
Small. Unstable. Barely wide enough to land a foot on. Some spun in place, others drifted subtly as if unsure whether to rise or fall.
But Jaemin saw opportunity.
"Momentum."
He muttered, eyes narrowing.
He backed up, judged the spacing, visualised the path like a grid of moving dots.
One breath.
Then—he ran.
TAK. TAK. TAK.
Boots against obsidian. The first platform was sturdy enough, but the next rocked under his weight. He didn't pause—just used the shifting angle to launch himself forward.
WHUMP. CRK.
The third broke the moment he pushed off it—but he was already airborne. He grabbed a narrow shard in mid-air and kicked off the edge with both feet, spinning slightly.
"C'mon."
He muttered through gritted teeth.
The wind dragged against him as he rose higher—but the storm wasn't fighting him yet. The drafts weren't helpful, but neither were they against him.
He adapted.
A broken slab spun near his right. He reached mid-air, planted a palm—vaulted sideways and upward. The momentum carried.
Another shard. He twisted, kicked off with both legs, and flipped through a falling gap.
One mistake. That's all it would take. One second too slow, one misstep, and he'd fall like the Abyssals did.
But Jaemin's breathing was calm.
His body moved on instinct, every jump fluid, raw, dangerous. His shirt pulled tight across his back and shoulders with every motion, and sweat lined his neck—but his eyes were cold. Focused. Sharp.
He soared past one final broken chunk and landed hard on the next intact platform.
THUD.
He dropped low, bracing for a shift—but this one held. It was wide. Stable.
Jaemin stood, panting slightly.
"…That's more like it."
The wind howled louder here. He looked up again.
Still… more than 150 platforms to go. But now he had rhythm.
He turned and glanced at the trail of floating debris behind him. One wrong calculation, and it could've gone to hell. But he was learning this Rift. Learning it's geometry. It's rhythm. Even its wind.
Each leap had trained his body, tuned it further.
He rolled his neck once, the pop audible.
"Better than cardio."
He muttered.
And then he walked to the edge again, looking for the next string of shattered steps.
Jaemin landed hard on the next platform—a shock through his knees, but he barely winced. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension roll off his body as he straightened.
Then, with a flick of his fingers and a focused breath, the Binary Stars materialised again in his palms—sleek, wicked, and humming with faint core energy. The blades reflected the flickering stormlight from above.
"Welcome back."
He muttered, gripping the hilts tight.
His side throbbed.
Jaemin glanced down. A clean cut traced along his right obliques, the fabric torn open where an earlier shard or claw had grazed him.
The cold wind licked across the wound, sharp as a blade itself. Blood was already dry in some places, glistening faintly in others—but the black of his clothes soaked it up, masking the damage unless you really looked.
Didn't matter.
He rolled his shoulders back, letting the pain settle.
Then he heard it. Low growls.
Crawling out from the mist-cloaked edges of the platform—Rifthounds.
Four of them. Lean, jagged, bone-armoured this time. Their eyes glowed with that corrupted violet hue, teeth like obsidian shards, breath steaming like they were boiling from the inside out.
Jaemin scoffed.
"Rifthounds? Up here?"
He tilted his head, half amused.
"Bit early for pests."
Then the air rippled—a larger shadow stalked in behind them.
Thicker legs. Spines. Venom dripping from elongated fangs.
A Riftlord.
Same species—but this one towered over the others. It dragged a long tail behind it, the tip coated in a dark green mist, poison leaking off its frame like heat waves. The hounds circled around it like guards around royalty.
Jaemin's eye twitched.
"…Fuck."
He said, casually.
Not in fear.
Not in defeat.
He chuckled. Actually chuckled.
"Jinxed my luck."
He muttered with a smirk.
"Should've kept my mouth shut."
His grip on the daggers tightened. Muscles flexed subtly beneath the wind-worn black. Even tired, even bleeding, he looked like a man who was just starting to enjoy himself.
One of the rifthounds growled louder, trying to intimidate.
Jaemin just cracked his neck and took a step forward.
"Alright then."
The Binary Stars shimmered in his grip.
"Let's see if you're worse than the climb."