Hitman With A Badass System

Michael and Gaya walked across the scorching sands, the twin suns beating down on them with an unforgiving intensity. The pagoda, their destination, shimmered in the distance, its long shadow the only respite from the relentless heat. There were no snakes, scorpions, or a life of any kind. Just sand, rock, and the oppressive silence of a dead world.

"This place looks fucked up," Gaya remarked, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "Like some god's abandoned sandbox."

Even as gods, they felt something. The heat, perhaps? Or maybe it was just the emptiness. The utter lack of anything.

"Why aren't we flying?" Gaya asked, after another hour of slogging through the sand.

"Conserving energy," Michael replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "And we don't want to attract unwanted attention. If there's anyone or anything in that temple we don't want to announce our arrival."

"I'm getting tired of walking," Gaya grumbled, kicking at a loose rock. "Give me that." She snatched a water bottle from Michael's hand, unscrewed the cap, and took a long, deep swig.

Michael activated his X-ray vision, trying to penetrate the temple's walls, to get a sense of what awaited them inside. But the structure remained opaque, his vision unable to penetrate the material or the magic that protected it.

"Damn," he muttered. "This is going to be interesting."

When they finally reached the base of the pagoda, they were both impressed and a little intimidated. It was massive. Several times taller than the tallest skyscraper back on Earth. Its walls, crafted from a smooth, white stone, soared towards the sky, disappearing into the shimmering heat haze.

Standing before it, Michael and Gaya felt insignificant. Like ants at the foot of a mountain. The pagoda's shadow, stretching out across the desolate landscape, seemed to engulf them. The entrance was a pair of towering doors, each one easily fifty feet high, crafted from some kind of dark wood, their surfaces intricately carved. On one door, a menagerie of beasts, their forms fluid, graceful, and powerful, seemed to leap and snarl. On the other, figures of archers, their bows drawn, their arrows aimed, their faces stoic, determined.

Hunters and prey.

The temple was silent. Eerily so. No birds sang. No insects buzzed. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

"This place gives me the fucking creeps," Gaya muttered.

Michael nodded, his gaze fixed on the doors. "Yeah, well let's see what's inside."

He then reached out, placing his hand on the cool, smooth surface of one of the doors. He pushed but it didn't budge. He pushed harder, gritting his teeth, putting his full godly strength behind it. The door creaked, and groaned, but didn't open.

"Shit," Gaya cursed. "How the hell did mortals even open this thing?"

"There's probably a mechanism," Michael said, his voice strained as he continued to push. "We're just brute-forcing it."

At that moment, a familiar vibration buzzed in his ear.

Click.

"Ghost, you there?" Pink's voice, laced with a hint of urgency, echoed in his mind.

"I'm here, Pink," Michael replied, still pushing against the door. "What's up?"

"I've been doing some digging," she said, her voice a rapid-fire burst of information. "Through Seraphene's data crystals. That temple it's bad news, Ghost. There are records old records of people going in. Looking for the bow. None of them ever came out."

Gaya rolled her eyes. "Well, that's fucking ominous. It's not like anything we do is ever easy."

"You got anything useful, Pink?" Michael asked, grunting with effort as the door finally began to move.

"Of course I do, dummy," Pink retorted. "There are sixty-four floors in that thing. Each one's supposed to have its own trial. If you're just passing through, on your way to the top, the trials they don't activate. Apparently, the hunters used to parade up there, all the way to the top, to pay their respects to Nithroel. But you guys, you're there for the bow. Which means well, you're gonna have to earn it. Unless you want to you know just go up there and pray."

"Any details on these trials?" Michael asked, his muscles straining as the door finally swung open, revealing the darkness within.

"Working on it," Pink said. "But it's fragmented. Incomplete. Like no one's ever bothered to document the whole thing. Probably because you know they all died. I'll keep digging. Call you back."

The connection severed.

"Well, that was helpful," Gaya said dryly, peering into the darkness beyond the doorway. "Sixty-four floors of unknown bullshit. Sounds like fun."

Finally, with a grunt of effort, Michael pushed the massive door open, revealing the temple's interior. The hall beyond was vast. And empty. The floor, crafted from polished emerald stone, stretched out before them, its surface gleaming under the faint light that filtered through the open doorway. Intricate carvings, depicting scenes of hunters and their prey, covered the walls, their details rendered with an almost obsessive precision. And at the far end of the hall, a statue, at least thirty feet tall, dominated the space. It was the statue of Nithroel holding a crimson bow…the deptiction of the Agni-King.

Michael and Gaya stepped inside, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. The door, as if with a will of its own, swung shut behind them, the sound a heavy thud that reverberated through the hall.

"Shit," Gaya muttered, her hand instinctively reaching for her god slayer bow. "There goes our easy exit. You know what they say, right? When a fucking door closes on its own in a creepy-ass place like this it's never a good sign. And it's never just closed. It's fucking locked. "

Michael chuckled, his gaze sweeping across the hall. "We'll manage. "

Then, he started walking towards the staircase, his hands clasped behind his back, his movements casual, almost leisurely. As if he were taking a stroll through a fucking park, not infiltrating a temple filled with unknown dangers.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

On the other hand, with a flick of her wrist, Gaya activated her invisibility, her form vanishing from sight. The runes, newly etched into her armor, hummed with power, making her truly invisible. Even her god-slayer crossbow, strapped to her back, disappeared, leaving no trace of her presence. She moved silently behind Michael, a silent shadow, ready to strike if necessary.

The first floor was different. The walls were crafted from a dark, red obsidian, glass-like in its smoothness, reflecting the faint light that filtered through the nonexistent windows. The floor, a deep crimson marble, was cold beneath their feet. And unlike the empty ground floor, this one was populated.

There were statues, dozens of them. Soldiers, frozen in various poses of attack. They were life-sized, crafted from the same red obsidian as the walls, their features detailed, their expressions fierce. Each one held a spear, its tip pointed outwards, a silent threat that made the hairs on the back of Michael's neck stand on end. They looked eerily similar to those terracotta soldiers of ancient China.

Swinging from the high ceiling using a strand of her newly-enhanced spider silk, Gaya muttered, "These statues they give me the fucking creeps. The whole damn temple gives me the creeps."

Michael, seemingly unfazed, strolled casually through the hall, his gaze sweeping over the statues. He couldn't, however, spot any stairs or a way to ascend to the upper floors.

"Looks like the trial's already started," he murmured, more to himself than to Gaya.

As if in response, the statues shifted. Their heads, carved from the same red obsidian as their bodies, turned, their gaze following Michael's movements.

Gaya, sensing the change, activated her earpiece comm.

"They're moving, Michael," she hissed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, I noticed," Michael replied as calm as ever.

Suddenly, the statues stomped their feet in unison, the sound echoing through the silent chamber, and broke formation. They raised their spears, their movements jerky, unnatural, and charged.

Michael cracked his neck, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Showtime."

But before he could unleash a Frostbite spell, one of the statues lunged, its spear thrusting towards him with surprising speed. Michael, his reflexes honed by years of combat, reacted instantly. He grabbed the spear, yanking the statue forward, off balance, and with a brutal punch, shattered its head into a million pieces.

The other statues froze, their movements halting abruptly.

"Well, that was easy," Gaya said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Too easy."

As if on cue, the floor beneath them lit up, a network of runes, in the shape of a shield, glowing with an eerie, crimson light. And the shattered statue it began to reform. The broken pieces, as if drawn by an invisible force, flew back together, reattaching themselves to the statue's body, until it stood, whole again, as if nothing had happened.

"Shit," Gaya muttered, her eyes widening.

More statues lunged at Michael, their spears thrusting, their movements faster now. More aggressive.

"Shield up, Michael!" Gaya shouted, her voice urgent.

Michael, anticipating the attack, raised his left arm. The black shield, its jagged edges whirring like a circular saw, extended from his wrist, deflecting a spear thrust aimed at his chest. He spun, slamming the edge of his shield into another statue, shattering it into pieces. This time, however, the statue stayed broken. The shield seemed to negate the temple's regenerative magic.

"Well, that's convenient," Michael said, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

But even as he spoke, Gaya felt a chill run down her spine. This was just the first floor. There were sixty-three more to go. And if this was just the beginning

"This is gonna be a long fucking day," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the statues, her mind racing, trying to anticipate their next move. "A very long fucking day."