Artreus landed with a thud on the cold, stone floor, his body jolted by the impact. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, clutching his ribs. The air here felt thick and charged, alive with an ancient, unyielding energy.

"Ow! That hurt!" he muttered, wincing as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes darted around the dimly lit space, taking in the jagged, rune-covered walls and the faint hum of power emanating from them.

"Where am I? What is this place?" he said aloud, his voice echoing faintly.

The silence unnerved him. "Hello? Helloo! Is anyone here?"

His call was met with stillness at first, but then a sound—soft, deliberate footsteps—emerged from the shadows. Before Artreus could react, a figure leaped forward with alarming speed, pinning him to the ground.

A cold blade pressed against his throat, the sharp edge biting into his skin just enough to warn him. His heart raced as he stared up at the assailant, a figure with piercing eyes and a presence that radiated danger.

"Who the hell are you?" the figure demanded, his voice low and cold.

"I… I was sent here!" Artreus stammered, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "Please, I don't mean any harm!"

The figure narrowed his eyes, suspicion etched into every line of his face. "Where did you come from? How did you get here? Are you here to steal?"

"I-I don't know!" Artreus protested, squirming under the figure's grip. "The marble sent me here!"

"Don't lie to me!" the figure barked, pressing the blade slightly harder against Artreus's throat.

"I'm not lying!" Artreus shouted back, his frustration boiling over. "Let go of me, you bastard!"

The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken threats. Just as the figure appeared ready to act, another voice cut through the room, authoritative and commanding.

"Enough!"

The figure froze, his head snapping toward the source of the voice.

"Let him go, Aidan," the voice said, firm yet calm.

Aidan hesitated but eventually obeyed, releasing Artreus with an audible click of his tongue. "Tsk..."

Artreus sat up, coughing as he rubbed his neck where the blade had been. He shot Aidan a glare. "This bastard…" he muttered under his breath.

The second figure stepped into the light, his presence filling the room with an air of authority. His face was etched with weariness, but his eyes held a sharpness that commanded attention.

"You," the man said, pointing at Artreus. "You say the marble sent you here?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Artreus stammered, still catching his breath.

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tsk, that kid Arthur… He keeps sending children to my home. What does he think this is? A daycare? Hays…" He shook his head, muttering to himself. "Why has my god sent me into this universe? Troubles never seem to end…"

He stepped closer, the light revealing more of his rugged features. His muscular frame and battle-worn appearance spoke of a life lived in conflict, yet his presence felt steady and assured.

"What's your name, kid?" the man asked.

"Artreus," he replied hesitantly.

The man nodded thoughtfully before gesturing to the bowl in his hand. "So, you're Arthur's brother. Want some?"

Artreus wrinkled his nose at the sight of the thick, unidentifiable stew in the bowl. "Ew… What's that? Get this thing out of my face."

The man's brows rose, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Rude. That attitude of yours... Are you sure you're his brother?"

Artreus crossed his arms, glaring. "Hey, I don't know why my brother sent me here. I don't even know what this place is! Who the hell are you, anyway?"

The man's smirk grew into a grin, his voice carrying a hint of pride as he replied, "Name's Samson. You may have heard of me—the God-chosen man from the books."

Artreus's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "Y-You're Samson?"

The man chuckled. "That's right. Welcome to my home, kid."

Artreus stood firm, his eyes locked on Samson, the legendary beast slayer. Though awe filled his voice, his words carried purpose.

"Master Samson, you're a legend! A beast slayer! I've heard so many stories about you. When you came to our world, you annihilated entire demon armies, left paths of destruction in your wake, and killed countless Demon King generals. You even trained my brother!" He hesitated, lowering his gaze briefly before continuing. "I'm sorry for intruding, sir. I haven't properly introduced myself—I'm Artreus Reigns. A marble sent me here… My brother gave it to me. There must be a reason I was sent to you."

Samson crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. "And what exactly are you getting at?"

Artreus clenched his fists, stepping forward. "I want you to train me. Make me your disciple. I want to get strong, just like my brother. I want to have my revenge on the monsters who destroyed my home and killed my mother. I want to annihilate them!"

Samson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…"

Before Samson could respond, Aidan, still visibly irritated from their earlier confrontation, interjected with a sneer. "He talks too much. We should kill this kid."

Samson shot Aidan a warning glance. "Now, now, Aidan. We don't want blood on the floor."

Not one to back down, Artreus glared at Aidan, his voice rising. "You look about my age. You think you're tough because you sneak up on people? You're just an a-hole!"

Aidan's expression twisted in anger. "You piece of sh—! I could take you down fair and square. You just got lucky my master stopped me from killing you!"

"Bring it, demon prick!" Artreus snapped.

Samson sighed heavily, his voice cutting through their bickering. "Okay, that's enough, children. Artreus, watch your mouth. Aidan, stop acting like a brat."

Artreus stood his ground, his determination unwavering. "Master Samson," he said earnestly, "please train me. Make me your disciple."

Samson studied him in silence, his face unreadable. Finally, he shook his head. "No."

"What?!" Artreus exclaimed, his voice breaking with disbelief.

Samson smirked faintly. "I'm not going to make you my disciple for free. That's your first lesson: nothing worth having comes without a cost. You have to earn it—or pay for it."

Desperate, Artreus stepped closer. "I don't have money to pay! I'll do anything you ask. Just… train me!"

Samson's expression softened slightly as he assessed the boy's resolve. "There's one way," he said finally. "You're going to have to fight one of my students. You're going to defeat Aidan."

Artreus smirked, recalling their earlier tension. "Oh, that sounds easy. I've always wanted to punch that asshole."

Aidan scoffed, his irritation evident. "Tsk. You think you can defeat me? I'll crush you."

"Bring it!" Artreus shot back, his grin widening.

Samson raised his hand to calm them. "Oh no… No killing, Aidan." He chuckled, settling into his chair. "Here's the deal, Artreus. You only need to land one hit. Just one. Do that, and you'll be my disciple."

Artreus grinned, confident. "One hit? I can do more than that."

Samson sighed dramatically. "Maybe. Aidan, don't kill him. Just knock him out if you have to."

Aidan smirked. "Fine by me."