As Yomite approached the door to the second challenge, a wave of cold air hit him, sending shivers down his spine. The door appeared to be made of solid black stone, but as he got closer, he realized that it was not stone at all. Instead, it seemed to be made of pure darkness, as if it were a void in the very fabric of reality.

The surface of the door was smooth and featureless, except for two words that were written in a glowing red script in the center: “Materia Incubi.” Once again, Yomite didn’t recognized the words but somehow knew that they translated to “Nightmare Demon.”

The words also seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if they were alive.

As Yomite looked closer at the door, he noticed that it seemed to shift and writhe like a living creature, as if it were trying to escape its own darkness. He could see faint outlines of twisted, demonic faces and writhing tendrils of black energy within the door’s surface, as if it were a portal to some terrible realm.

“Creepy as fuck. I hate horror.”

The moment Yomite stepped into the trial, an ominous shift in his surroundings occured.

A peculiar tingling sensation enveloped him, distorting his perception. Glancing down, he was aghast to find himself transformed into a small boy, barely eight or nine years old. His limbs were now short, his once-mighty frame replaced with a frail, delicate silhouette, and his once-powerful arms and legs seemed to struggle to support him.

“What the hell?” Yomite whispered, his now-higher pitched voice betraying his altered state. He gazed at his childlike body, emotions churning with confusion and apprehension. “Are you kidding me!? Am I really a freaking child…? Is this to make sure I can’t defend myself at all?”

Yomite’s frustration grew as he realized his clothes were now far too large for his tiny frame. His pants pooled around his ankles, his shirt sleeves dangled to his fingertips, and his shoes were so enormous they continually slipped from his feet. He stood there, feeling exposed and vulnerable, as the stark reality of his situation settled in: he was a small, naked child.

A shiver ran through his body as he attempted to shield himself from the biting chill in the air. “I need to do something about this… I can’t run around naked in an unknown dungeon with entities from a horror movie…”

With grim determination, Yomite set about adapting his clothes to fit his new form. He removed his oversized shirt and tore off strips of fabric, using them to wrap around his body like a makeshift toga. It was far from perfect, but it offered some semblance of coverage and protection against the cold.

Turning his attention to his pants, he found a sharp stone and used it to cut the legs shorter, making them more suitable for his smaller stature. He crafted a belt from the excess fabric to secure the pants in place. Although his shoes remained too large, he had an idea. Yomite stuffed more fabric strips into the toes, creating a snug fit that would prevent them from slipping off as he ran.

However, his claymore presented the most significant challenge, as it was now too heavy and large for his tiny frame. Frustrated, Yomite reluctantly stashed the claymore among some rocks, hoping he might somehow recover it later.

Surveying his surroundings, Yomite found himself standing in what appeared to be an abandoned high school. The hallways were lined with lockers and classroom doors, while posters and flyers, decaying with age, advertised long-forgotten clubs and activities. The familiar yet unnerving setting only served to heighten his sense of isolation and vulnerability.

Flickering fluorescent lights cast sinister, dancing shadows throughout the dim corridors. A thick layer of dust blanketed the floors, signaling that the school had been deserted for ages. A malevolent energy seemed to permeate the very air, making the hairs on the back of Yomite’s neck stand on end.

“Of all the places, why did it have to be a school?” Yomite murmured, a wave of annoyance washing over him. He recalled the instructions he’d been given by Lisa: hide, run, find the keys, and escape the location.

His face contorted into a grimace as he added, “This is definitely a horror game.”

Before Yomite could delve deeper into his thoughts, an eerie sound echoed through the forsaken halls. The disembodied wail sent a shudder down his spine, and he felt the sinister atmosphere close in around him.

He held his breath, straining to listen, and pinpoint the origin of the unsettling noise. The chilling sound reverberated through the dimly lit corridors, making it impossible to determine its exact location. Yomite knew that he couldn’t afford to stand idly by, paralyzed with fear. He had to act swiftly and cautiously to have any chance of surviving the trial. He hated horror games and horror genre in general, and now that he was a helpless child, there was literally no counter play against the creatures lurking in.

He couldn’t summon his teapot, his claymore was too heavy and his cube wasn’t activating no matter how hard he tried. For the first time in ages, he felt completely powerless, as if he was a small, defenseless animal facing a pack of hungry predators. No matter how hard he fought, he knew deep down that he was outmatched and outgunned.

He decided to prioritize finding the keys as fast as possible before finding the actual entrance itself. With each step, Yomite’s boots tapped softly against the dusty floor, as he moved cautiously through the abandoned school, trying not to alert whatever malevolent force was lurking within.

As Yomite walked down the hallways, the oppressive silence weighed heavily upon him. He could feel the stillness in the air, as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, a door creaked open, and Yomite jumped in fright.

“Fucking hell!”

He kept his distance for a while before peering into the room, but it was too dark to see anything. His heart pounded in his chest as he debated whether to investigate or continue on his path.

Yomite hesitated, his eyes fixed on the open door. A million thoughts raced through his mind, each one more terrifying than the last. What if there was something waiting for him inside? What if it was a trap? What if he never made it out?

The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft, rhythmic thudding of his heart. He could feel his breath quickening as fear took hold. But he knew he couldn’t let his fear paralyze him. He had to keep moving forward, no matter how scared he was.

‘There ain’t no way I’m going inside of that room…this is exactly how dumbasses die in movies. I will ignore everything, because noises are always in video games and movies just to be investigated. As long as I don’t give a damn, it should be fine and dandy.’

With a newfound resolve, Yomite steeled himself, opting to ignore the mysterious door and press onward. ‘I’ve seen enough horror movies to know better,’ he muttered under his breath, trying to inject some humor into his dire predicament. ‘I ain’t gonna be one of those idiots who goes into the creepy room and ends up dead. I don’t know what will happen if it catches me, but I don’t wanna try finding out either. Considering I’m a child, I’ll probably be broken in half like a twig if it catches me…’

***