"Wait, we're inside a... Demi-plane?"

  Despite the hellish landscape around them, Art was acting like they were in heaven. "Holy-" He stopped himself. "Dang. Never thought I'd be inside one of these before!"

  "Can you stop mucking about?" Night looked about. "We're literally in hell!"

  The place was intimidating, to say the least. Night, Art, and the rest of the other kids were placed atop a great stone platform, which appeared to be... Floating? More magic, I guess. Splayed out in front of them was a series of smaller stone platforms, each one gliding up and down in an almost rhythmic pattern, hovering a few dozen feet above the spitting, seething lava below them.

  Art's gaze hovered down. "I know that my parent's talked about it and all, but I just wanna check... Is that real?"

  "Yes. All of it is. Everything made inside a Demi-plane Constructor is real." Night recited. "Unless they're manifesting illusion magic. Doesn't matter. The fall would kill you anyway."

  "Well, shoot. I'm alright at parkour though, so-"

  "Attention, candidates!" The man reappeared in the air once more, his voice booming overwhelmingly loudly in the strange cave they seemed to be in. "This is your second challenge. Heroes don't only have a good heart. They have strength! And courage!" Lirous shouted the lines that he must have memorised beforehand. "To pass, you must have both!"

  Night coughed. "For God's sake, just move on already."

  "Your task is simple. Get to the other side of this cavern without falling. Once your on the other platform, you will be considered 'safe'. There are no rules other than that." A strange grin made it's home on his face. "Good luck." And in a flash of beaming light, the man disappeared from view.

  "Wait." Art turned. "He said 'no rules', right? Does that mean..."

  "Killing is allowed?" Night shrugged. "Ah, heck. Whatever." Facing the multitude of stone platforms, he turned around.

  However, not everyone was as concentrated as he.

  "EVERYONE!" A loud voice echoed through the chamber. "I HAVE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!"

  A kid with a plain white shirt and jeans was waving his arms about wildly, apparently in an attempt to grab everyone's attention. People weren't paying him much heed, apart from the occasional chuckle and sideways look.

  "Who on earth is that?" Night knew the kind of guy who was rapidly approaching. Rapid is an understatement.

  "Oh! That's, uh, John." Art frowned. "John F Johnson. Normally he's a bit of a, uh, messer, but in this case he should be alright."

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  "HEY! You over there!" John stormed towards the pair. "Who are you!? Never seen you 'round here before!"

  Art was about to say something when Night stepped forward. "The name's Night. You're John, right?"

  John shoved his big hands in his big pockets. "Yep, That's me!" He cocked his head. "Your name's Night? Your parents must hate you!"

  "They liked me just fine." Oh, he wants to do that, does he? "Who wears buttoned shoes these days, anyway?" Night nodded downwards. "My little sister used to wear those."

  John threw his head back and simply laughed. "You seem like a cool guy. I'll try not to kill ya." He slapped Night on the shoulder - who recoiled from him - and walked off.

  Art breathed out. "Alright, that wasn't so bad." He glanced at the figure disappearing in the crowd. "Normally he makes a big scene of things."

  Night turned back. "So is he the only one we gotta worry about?"

  But before Art could reply, shouts reverberated throughout the cavern, some loud enough to make small pebbles to rattle down from the craggy ceiling. People began to rush to the side, and a certain tightness winched itself up in Night's chest. The stone platform had lowered itself to a level where it was safe to cross, and soon it would lower itself into the churning lava below.

  It was time to move.

  

  The roaring flames were a call to battle. Each step to the next platform was a step into the firing line.

  There was no time to talk. Night and Art bolted between the platforms, avoiding any magic-powered skirmishes they could. Occasionally, a platform would drop itself directly into the lava without warning, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in the rocky pattern.

  Worse still, sometimes there were still people on them.

  Night was no stranger to running, though.

  Keep going. No problems here. Don't mind us, just passing through-

  A streak of fire launched itself into the ground at his feet, flames licking his shoes, and he jumped back. "Crap!"

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted another, and ]he ducked as another mote of fire shot past just above his head. The heat must have singed the hairs off his neck.

  "You runt! Get back here!"

  Night jerked his head around. Two of the other kids, apparently magic-users, were fighting on a separate platform. One was wielding a pair of flintlock pistols, whilst the the other was hurling flames all over the place. Night didn't know whether to feel relieved the two of them weren't being targeted or shook that he nearly lost his head.

  "You good?" Art called forward.

  "Yeah, just a bit, y'know." Night brushed the arms of his hoodie, even though there wasn't really any need to. "Can't you do anything? Creation magic, right? Can't you make a..." He glanced over at the two arguing kids. "Gun? A sword?"

  Art nodded. "I mean, let me see." Making a few strange gestures in the air, blue and navy rectangular sparks swirling. Seemingly shaping the sparks, he extended it until...

  It was a dull metal rod.

  "..." Night slumped. "Didn't you say you did this before?"

  Art gaped. "Says the guy who can't use magic at all!" He held the simple but weighty tool in one hand, making it look more like a walking stick than weapon. "I normally make pens and stuff, but those take an hour or two."

  "An hour or two?!" Night shook his head. "I know, I can't use any, but look at them! They're throwing fire and shooting automatically reloading flintlocks-"

  "Shoot."

  The platform they were on shook, and the two barely had time to jump as the platform fell with horrifying speed into the lava below. Night nearly stumbled as his forward foot caught the edge of the opposite platform.

  "Dammit." Night turned around. "We'll talk when-"

  "Talk with who?" A different voice asked behind him.