The Masked Legacy

Akira nodded, too tired to argue. She glanced at her arm—the one that had been regrown by the Fruit of Steel. It still felt new, foreign, as though it wasn't quite hers yet. The tingling sensation hadn't left since the fruit healed her, and the power in her body was still settling.

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the wild filling the night air. Akira flexed her fingers, testing the strength of her new hand.

"Do you think we'll make it to the top tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"We will," Thorne replied, his voice steady.

"We're close."

Akira let out a long breath, her muscles relaxing slightly. She turned her gaze toward him, finally letting go of her curiosity about his abilities and his material. Whatever it was, it didn't matter right now. They had a mission to complete, and they were both too tired to dwell on anything else.

Thorne decided to take the first watch while Akira rested.

As they did, Akira couldn't help but glance up at the peak, the archway just beyond their reach. It was strange to think that it had been nearly two weeks since they entered the Garden. The journey was supposed to take less than a week, and now she wondered if they were some of the last maskless still in the wild.

"I miss home," she muttered.

Thorne didn't respond, but she could see the same thought flicker in his eyes. He, too, had been away from his family far longer than intended. His father's worry likely weighed on him as much as the journey itself. But tomorrow, they would reach the archway.

Tomorrow, this would all be over.

They both knew, however, that the final climb wouldn't be any easier.

The next day, with the sun barely rising above the horizon, they continued their climb. As soon as they began moving, the beasts came again, drawn to them like moths to a flame. The onslaught didn't stop, wave after wave battering them as they fought their way up the slope. It was grueling, the number of creatures seeming to double the higher they climbed.

Akira's arms ached, and the sweat on her skin made it harder to keep her grip on her sword. But she kept moving, kept fighting. They had come too far to stop now.

"Just a little further," Thorne said through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the peak.

The next stretch of the climb was no easier than the last. The relentless waves of beasts seemed almost endless as they clawed and fought their way upward. But now that the archway was so close, neither Thorne nor Akira could afford to stop. It felt like freedom was just within reach, and the thought of escaping this dangerous place gave them the strength to keep moving. Every step, every swing of their weapons, brought them closer to the top, despite their exhaustion.

Thorne's spiritual sense stretched ahead, picking up the faint, familiar hum of something ancient just beyond the last crest of the hill. He pushed forward with renewed determination, his body moving on instinct now, reacting to every beast as though he knew their exact position before they even appeared, pushing his senses to the limit.

Finally, after what felt like hours of fighting, they reached the summit. Thorne exhaled, feeling a rush of relief. Before them stood an archway, but it wasn't like the one that had brought them into the Garden of the Gods.

This one was ancient, worn by time and yet exuding an undeniable sense of power. The stonework was intricately carved, with symbols neither of them could understand, and a soft glow emanated from its edges.

Immediately, the moment they entered the range of the archway, Thorne felt a protective aura fall over him, like an invisible barrier shielding them from the dangers that had plagued their climb.

 He could feel the weight of the beasts retreating, no longer sensing them in his spiritual range. A deep sense of relief washed over him, mingling with a strange familiarity.

This feeling... Thorne thought, his eyes narrowing as he studied the archway.

It was the same sense of protection he had felt back at the temple, the place where his fate had been sealed and where he had become what that man had called "Chosen".

 He hadn't spoken a word about the temple to Akira, which was how it was going to be.

He glanced over at Akira, noticing the way her tense shoulders had relaxed, though she said nothing. She, too, must have felt the change. The atmosphere was lighter, calmer, as if the archway itself had recognized their struggle and rewarded them with this brief respite.

As Thorne continued to scrutinize the archway, a low rumble caught his attention. From behind the archway, the ground shifted, revealing something lying before it. A large, flat stone slab rose from the earth, revealing an altar of sorts.

On the stone slab lay a dull, almost unremarkable orb. To the untrained eye, it seemed like any ordinary stone, but to Thorne, it was something far more. As his spirituality brushed against it, he felt a flicker of life deep within—a faint but persistent energy that reminded him of a fire struggling to survive a storm. It was weak, barely there, but resilient, refusing to be extinguished.

Akira, standing a few steps behind, watched him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. To her, it was just another object, something ancient but of little importance. Yet she had learned in the past few days that Thorne saw and sensed things she couldn't.

First, there had been the fruit of steel, which he had known to seek out as if it were marked on a map only he could see.

Then, there was the way he fought, as if he had eyes all over his body, anticipating every attack and countering with precision.

 Perhaps, she thought, he had eaten some mystical fruit earlier, something to heighten his senses.

 But Akira was smart enough to stay quiet. She had her own code of gratitude for him, not just for saving her life but for sharing the fruit. If keeping her questions to herself was the least she could do in return, then so be it.