Red was pushed into the gym locker.

Chris Pitt spun the combination dial of the rusted gym locker with a final metallic click, sealing the narrow enclosure completely. Megan laughed from a nearby wooden bench while tapping her designer heels against the tile floor.

"Tip the box over," Chris directed, gesturing toward the freestanding row of metal units.

Marcus Thorne and Jason stepped forward to shove the top of the enclosure, sending the entire unit crashing face-first onto the concrete floor.

Red slammed violently against the grated door as the sudden impact forced the breath completely from his lungs. The narrow steel walls pressed tightly against his shoulders, trapping his limbs at awkward angles against his sides.

"Grab the barbell plates," Chris instructed the others.

Metallic clangs echoed through the deserted locker room while forty-five-pound iron plates crashed onto the back of the tipped locker one by one. The steel groaned under the increasing mass, causing the back panel to bow inward and press directly against Red’s spine. His ribcage compressed violently against the front grate.

"Please," Red wheezed, scraping his fingers uselessly against the locking mechanism.

Chris crouched next to the ventilation slits to slide a perfectly manicured finger through the grate and poke Red’s bruised cheek.

"You take up too much space in this school, orphan," Chris whispered. "My father says people like you are parasites, so we are just keeping you in your rightful place."

Megan leaned down next to Chris to unscrew the cap of a plastic bottle filled with spoiled milk. She poured the rancid liquid directly through the vents, soaking Red’s only set of clean clothes with a sour fluid that burned his eyes and coated his skin.

"Leave him in there for the weekend," Derek suggested from the doorway. "He can practice starving."

Chris stepped onto the back of the locker to add his entire body weight to the iron plates. The metal warped further, pinning Red completely in place. Red gasped for breath against the crushing steel, clawing at the dark confinement while the group walked away to leave him buried under the ruined locker.

"..." Red was reminded of his high school days. "I should be thankful I remembered this."

Red stood inside his sanctuary, watching the memory fade into the cold glow of the planetary sensory grid.

A massive, three-dimensional topographical map of the Third Continent projected into the center of the dark chamber, pulsing with golden light across the holographic dunes.

Chris spent his entire life pressing people into the dirt to feel powerful, and the Voranthar had simply handed him the magic to execute that cruelty on a continental scale.

The projection zoomed in on the eastern borders, where Iron-Scale, Gulag, and General Krax stood at the center of a crushed valley. The terrain surrounding them consisted of perfectly compressed disks of rock.

Red watched the localized physics unravel in real-time as the pebbles near Iron-Scale’s boots suddenly began to float.

Gulag looked down in alarm while the compacted sand entirely lost its gravity, drifting upward like snow falling in reverse. The ambient sunlight in the valley violently distorted, bending toward a single point in the sky directly above the allied formation.

A mocking, arrogant voice echoed across the crushed landscape, amplified by pure magic.

"Welcome to the eastern border. Let us see how well you fly."

The entire valley floor violently ripped upward.

The eastern border fractured into a chaotic vertical battlefield. Six hundred thousand soldiers lost their footing entirely as the valley floor tore itself from the planetary crust. Transport wagons, dropped weapons, and massive slabs of compressed bedrock tumbled upward into the bright desert sky.

Syra utilized the erratic darkness cast by the floating debris to launch an immediate counterattack. She melted into a shadow trailing a spinning boulder and materialized directly behind the golden-armored Earthling. She swung a condensed blade of pure darkness toward his neck.

Chris completely ignored her approach and projected a localized repulsion wave from his shoulder. The kinetic burst shattered her shadow blade instantly, throwing her violently against a rising mesa. She coughed blood across the uneven stone as she struggled to stand.

’The spatial distortion around him acts as an automatic shield,’ Syra analyzed, gripping her fractured ribs. ’He controls the exact physical vectors of everything within twenty yards.’

General Krax roared a battle cry from a nearby ascending platform. He used his immense physical strength to leap across the floating slabs of rock, bridging the gap toward the Herald. Krax raised his greataxe over his head to deliver a lethal downward cleave.

Chris smirked and snapped his fingers. A localized gravity well condensed directly above the Orc’s head. The sudden downward force slammed into Krax mid-leap, abruptly reversing his momentum. The Orc plummeted past the ascending army and crashed brutally into a rising platform of stone.

"Filthy beasts," Chris mocked from his suspended position. "Did you really think a piece of iron could reach me?"

Iron-Scale tumbled through the debris field and drew his star-iron dagger. He watched his two strongest commanders fall in a matter of seconds. Offensive strikes were completely useless against a localized singularity.

He unleashed his emerald wind core to generate massive downdrafts across the battlefield. Raging emerald cyclones pinned the drifting soldiers to the ascending boulders, preventing them from floating away into the freezing upper atmosphere.

"Anchor yourselves!" Iron-Scale commanded his troops over the chaos. "Grab the bedrock and brace!"

Chris noticed the emerald cyclones interfering with his execution. He sneered and raised his hands higher toward the sun. He violently amplified the gravitational multiplier pushing down on the rising platforms.

The crushing force pinned Krax and the Orcs completely flat against the floating stone. Bronze armor cracked loudly under the intense physical strain. Soldiers gasped as the pressure restricted their lungs.

Gulag stood on a spinning slab and slammed her fists directly into the rock. Her amber core flared brightly to wrestle control of the ascending terrain. She commanded the earth to obey her will to stabilize the ascent. The sheer density of the divine magic instantly overpowered her elemental authority. Blood dripped from her nose and ears while her core overloaded.

’The rock refuses to listen,’ Gulag thought. She ground her teeth together while veins bulged across her forehead. ’His magic dictates the rules of the world entirely.’