Unchosen Champion

Dozens of levels up the spiraling tower, another bout of violence intruded on the cold interior of the Ark. The assault extended a growing chain of continuous fighting, rising from the depths of the tower, showing no sign of stopping. Where most of the Ark was calm, quiet, with only the oozing substrate within each hexagonal cell shifting colors, the clashing disturbance on the tower was loud and conspicuous. It mirrored the stream that rose from the bedrock, climbing the floors with only one inevitable destination.

Coop had already lost track of the exact number of levels they had crossed. He considered the broad strokes irrelevant as he focused on absorbing the specific details of each individual demonic opponent as they went. He was sure they had crossed more than fifty levels, but probably less than a hundred, where each was a full circuit around the spiral with six distinct sections, five of which they skipped.

The actual number of levels didn’t matter to him. Even a thousand would have just been the start, considering the gargantuan scale of the tower. No matter how he looked at it, they had an enormous amount of ground to cover, but he only had reaching the end in mind, regardless of the distance. Anything less would be the same as failure and failure was extinction.

Coop targeted a Molten Golem with Depth Charge, aggressively initiating a mass fight against the escalating number of demonic monsters with the pulling ability he earned on the Path of the Abyss. His actions were boosted by a bit of momentum as the Champion gradually proved his worth and settled into properly climbing the tower. He was actively embracing the escalating challenge with each match. Even as he forged a routine, he made subtle iterations to increase his efficiency, resisting the Ark’s effort to impede their progress with improvements to himself and his party.

As the number of enemies increased, the already rare opportunities for any kind of break were effectively eliminated, but he adapted, finding a rhythm that ultimately bolstered his march to the top. Only he would be enthusiastic about pushing himself to the brink of his skills and barely scraping by, only for the reward to be an even greater challenge, but that’s what had placed him in the position to be the one facing such an ordeal in the first place. It was what had come to define the Revenant class.

The Ark’s internal response, like everything else designed by the original Exiles, seemed to have a fundamental flaw borne by its presumption of the hierarchy of power. It was only allocating the exact resources necessary to overcome the intruders, as if it would be impossible to overcome some calculated upper extreme.

Any minor success was the consequence of Coop pushing himself to the edge of his ability, recognizing that anything less on his part would be insufficient. Even at his current best, he might eventually be inadequate, but that only drove him to strive for more before he smashed into his ceiling. He had to be slightly better with every action to avoid discovering any potential roadblocks in his potential.

He smashed the lava-veined stone monster that had become his target with all of his ponderous strength, completely lacking the mental blocks that might hold a person back from going all out after repeatedly training himself to fight unconditionally. The action stifled an exhale as his muscles grew taut and his stats shifted, blasting the golem with absurd physical force for his expected level.

When his body absorbed the recoil of the collision, tiny beads of sweat escaped his soaked hair, hissing as they evaporated in the heat coming from the magma blood of the golem. Then he did it again, this time with his feet firmly planted on the ground, smashing his mace into the chest of the monster with even more strength. The second physical blow completed a series of motions that all occurred before the monsters on the platform even identified their prey, beginning with Coop throwing his spear from the previous level.

With a backdrop of yellow hexagonal cells that overwhelmed the deep red, Coop had mistjumped to his thrown spear from far below. He left behind the growing army of pursuing monsters to be dealt with later and flickered through the monochromatic world of mists. When he reappeared, he caught the projectile with it held above his shoulder such that he was facing the platform and already entering another throwing motion.