Apocalypse Baby

"No. No matter what you do, don't stop," Adam snapped, his face hardening. "If you trip—use your token. I don't care how tough you think you are. Don't get caught."

As if summoned by his words, the sound behind them deepened—a guttural rumble that vibrated through the bones of the bridge. The air grew thick, crackling with electric tension.

The storm was a monstrous, churning mass of black cloud streaked with jagged veins of white-hot lightning. Its maw—jagged, gaping, impossibly wide—yawned open as if to swallow the world whole. And it was chasing them.

Not drifting. Not meandering like some idle tempest.

It hunted with purpose.

The eight remaining contestants sprinted across the Divine Bridge, a vast expanse of cracked crystal and fractured marble suspended over a void that defied comprehension.

Beneath them: nothing.Above them: heavy eyes, watching.And ahead—still so far ahead—the Divine Gate shimmered like a mirage, pulsing with golden light. A promise of escape. A test. Ascension. Death.

Alex ran just behind the group, his pace even, his breathing controlled. Every motion was precise. Efficient. The slap of his boots against the ancient stone formed a metronome in his head—a rhythm that calmed him, kept him sharp.

The others surged ahead in a ragged line: Adam. Korrum. The Anima. Vayren. Kaelen. Even the monk with the cracked bell around his neck.

All running like the Gate would vanish if they blinked.

At first, Alex kept pace effortlessly. His body, reborn and reworked, moved like a weapon.

But soon—too soon—his brow furrowed.

Something wasn't right.

His eyes flicked forward, tracking the golden shimmer in the distance.

The Gate wasn't getting closer.

His breath caught, and he blinked, confused.

That couldn't be.

He had a sharp sense of distance—better than most. He'd calculated the length of the bridge the moment they first stepped onto it.

Two hundred meters, give or take. At their current speed, they should've reached it in under a minute.

But he'd been running longer than that. Much longer.

And still—no closer.

He drew in a breath, pushing down the sudden flicker of dread that began to build in his chest.

Something was wrong.

Not in the physical. In the logic. The flow. The fabric of space.

He focused, adjusting his breathing. Still running. Still keeping pace.

But now, he was watching.

Listening.

Analyzing.

The others felt it too.

He saw it in their bodies before their voices gave it away—the slight stutter in Korrum's stride. The monk's anxious glance behind. The flicker of hesitation in the Anima's ghost-lit eyes.

Even Vayren had stopped whispering to the strange white flower blooming from his chest.

Only Kaelen ran as though the Gate could still be conquered. Silver-blonde hair streaming behind him like a banner, his back straight, his limbs moving with arrogant grace. There was fury in his posture. Desperation in his pride.

He wasn't just running toward the Gate.

He was racing against the idea of being second place.

"Slow down, princess," Korrum growled, his voice like stones grinding together. Sweat gleamed on the metallic braids woven into his brow. "You're wasting energy."

Kaelen scoffed without turning. "Spare me the lecture, brute."

Adam's voice came next, quieter. Tense."Something feels... off."

Alex didn't answer immediately.

His golden irises shimmered as he activated [God Eyes] to see if they were trapped in an illusion of some sort.

If they were caught in some illusion—some layered deception by the Realm—he would see it, even if it was highly advanced.

He blinked.

Nothing peeled back.

No false overlays. No hidden traps.

The Gate was real.

The bridge was real.

Every atom felt solid. Tangible.

This wasn't an illusion.

Alex finally shook his head, a look of uncertainty on his face.

Adam frowned deeply. "What the hell is happening?"

He asked more to himself than anyone. He had knowledge of what to expect in this round—but this... this was something he had never heard of.

It was like they were running on a treadmill that spanned eternity.

The landscape itself moved in perfect synchronization with them.

They ran—but the goal retreated.

And it would only stop… when it wanted to stop.

And if they stopped—

They were screwed.

So what to do? Keep running.

Alex didn't slow.

None of them did.

Adam, thoughtful even in exhaustion, spoke again."The bridge and the Gate are both real. But the Realm's laws aren't like ours. They don't work the same here."

"You mean it's adjusting to our movement?" Korrum grunted.

"Exactly," Adam said, calm now, detached. "It matches our pace. We move forward; the Gate pulls away. We stop—it catches us."

Alex paused for a second.

Then he concluded:"This is not a race. It's a test."

He exhaled hard through his nose."So, we're trapped in an infinite run. A loop. Until the Realm decides we've had enough."

"Pretty much," Adam replied flatly.

The Anima hissed, his voice like static on broken glass."We haven't even begun the true trial, and they want our lungs first?"

Kaelen scoffed from up ahead."Idiots, all of you," he snapped. "The solution then is simple. Outrun it and break the loop. Simple."

Alex's gaze sharpened.

Theoretically, Kaelen wasn't wrong. If the Realm's illusion—or whatever field was sustaining this—mimicked a treadmill, then moving faster than its upper limit might outpace it.

Might.

But Alex had doubts.

Kaelen shouted:"You keep running in circles if you want! I'm ending this."

He surged forward, fists clenching. Emerald light shimmered around his legs, pulsing through intricate runes that glowed along his calves and thighs.

A movement technique.

[Shifting Stride].

Kaelen blurred, his figure warping as he accelerated in a burst of speed that kicked up a gust behind him. Elven magic twisted space, allowing him to leap impossible distances.

For five seconds, he was a blur.

Then—

Thud.

He landed.

Behind them.

A couple steps behind.

Kaelen skidded to a stop, eyes wide with disbelief."What…?"

But the roar of the cloud snapped him from his daze, and he hurriedly accelerated.

The group turned, stunned, as Kaelen had suddenly appeared behind them.

"Interesting," Alex muttered.

Movement skills were useless. Any attempt to accelerate only burned energy faster—and threw you backward into the path of the approaching storm.

Kaelen staggered, wild fury creeping into his voice."That—That should've covered a hundred meters!"

Korrum let out a bark of laughter."Idiot. Next time listen to the geniuses."

Vayren smirked."For an elf, you sure lack wisdom."

"Shut up, plant—!"

"Save your breath, princess," Korrum said, picking up his pace. "You'll need it."

Kaelen grit his teeth and hastened his steps, falling in with the group—though not entirely. Pride wouldn't let him blend in, so he hovered half a step ahead, just far enough to pretend he wasn't with them.

Silence returned.

Boots hit stone in rhythm.

No one spoke now. There were no more theories. No more defiance.

The Realm had made itself clear.

This wasn't about speed.

It was about endurance.

The bridge went on.

And on. And on.

A hundred steps. A thousand.

Ten thousand?

Maybe a hundred thousand? No one could tell anymore.

Time was muddy here. It stretched and coiled and bent around breath and movement.

Even the light felt inconsistent—one moment harsh, the next dull, like the Realm was trying to shake their rhythm.

Alex kept breathing. In. Out. Rhythm. Control.

Sweat rolled down his face. His arms felt heavier. His boots stuck harder with every step. But he didn't slow.

Beside him, Korrum's breathing was louder. Vayren had become leaner, adapting to maintain speed. Even the Anima's once-light steps began to sound heavier, more grounded now.

But no one stopped.

How long could this last?

An hour?

A day?

Forever?

Alex's thoughts began to drift.

Until something stopped them cold.

A breeze.

Barely noticeable. A whisper on the back of his neck.

Then it grew colder.

Sharper.

A chill that lanced through him like the edge of a blade dipped in glacial water.

Alex inhaled sharply. His instincts screamed.

He turned—

And his blood ran cold.

The cloud had moved.

Not drifted—jumped.

It was closer. So much closer.

The monstrous storm, once a distant threat, was now a looming terror just beyond the edge of the bridge. Its jagged mouth had widened, gnashing open with a hunger that pulsed. Lightning arced wildly across its body, lashing out like a hundred reaching limbs.

It wasn't chasing anymore.

It was about to consume.

Alex's heart slammed once—hard—like it wanted out of his chest.

"The storm—" he began.

But they'd already seen it.

Everyone had.

Kaelen's bravado was gone. His eyes were fixed on the maw, jaw clenched, breath ragged.

Korrum swore under his breath.

Adam whispered, "It's accelerating."

Alex stared down the length of the bridge.

The Gate still shimmered in the distance.

Still mocking them.

Still unreachable.

And behind them was...