The hall was endless. This wasn't just strange. It was something else entirely.
There was a door that I was supposed to go through. I lingered, afraid, but I did not have a choice. I went through—and the door shut after me.
Then the lights went out. Not dark like night. Dark like absence. Dark like being erased.
And then—light. Not warm. Not gentle. It flickered into being with a snap, illuminating a small circular room. In the center stood two people: a child and an elderly man. Both bound. Both gagged. Both shaking.
[Trial of Truth. Choose who dies.]
[Failure to choose results in termination.]
My mouth went dry. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Then came the feminine voice.
"This is not about them. It's about you. Your choice tells us who you are. What you value. What you're willing to live with."
[60 SECONDS]
A timer blinked to life above their heads. The child looked at me with wide, trembling eyes. Maybe six years old. The old man... was crying.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
"Pick," the voice cooed. "Or you'll be responsible for both."
"No," I whispered. "No no no—"
[45 SECONDS]
I took a step back. I wanted to run. But the walls had closed in. No escape. No tricks. Just me, two strangers, and the unbearable weight of choice.
"Which death do you prefer?" the voice asked. "The one with potential unfulfilled? Or the one with time already spent?"
[30 SECONDS]
"I can't," I choked.
"You must."
Then it happened.
[15 SECONDS]
The child began to sob. The old man looked at me—and nodded. As if he knew. As if he chose.
[10 SECONDS]
I screamed. I picked.
Then came the worst part.
No blade. No sound. Just—rupture. Flesh turned to petals of gore. Organs scattered. The body collapsed in on itself, as if a bomb was detonated inside it.
I vomited. I curled into myself and sobbed until I couldn't make a sound.
Then the voice spoke again. Almost kindly.
"You chose. Well done, little one."
Darkness returned. I sat in it, breathing hard, shaking.
"Is this… real?" I asked, barely able to speak the words.
There was a pause. Then the voice answered. Quiet. Direct. Mocking.
"Why would it not be?"
I didn't respond. Because I couldn't. Because maybe some part of me already knew the answer.
Light returned—but not in the same room. This time, I stood above the clouds, floating.
Below me: a ship. Sleek, silver, alive with movement. Explorers walked its deck. Laughing. Talking. Unaware. Arcane gear shimmered across their backs. They looked untouchable.
I could hear them. See them. But they couldn't see me.
Then came the voice again. Low. Curious.
"You are envious of them. They awaken. You crawl. They thrive. You survive."
And then she laughed a bit. I said nothing.
The voice shifted. Sharper now.
"Observe."
A screen blinked into existence beside me. Coordinates. A pulsing red signal.
"A bomb has been planted on that ship."
"What?" I breathed. "Who—why?"
"Does it matter?"
[TRIAL OF TRUTH: INTERVENTION]
[You may choose to warn the Explorers.]
[If you do: 14 lives will be saved. But one of them—the one who planted the device—will also live.]
[If you remain silent: 13 innocents will die. The traitor dies with them.]
[45 SECONDS]
My hands trembled.
"Why… why are you doing this to me?"
The voice chuckled.
"We're not doing anything. We're simply watching you choose."
[40 SECONDS]
I looked down at the ship. A woman twirled a staff made of violet fire. A young man leaned on a sword that pulsed with lightning. They looked like gods. And they would die screaming. Unless I—
[30 SECONDS]
"Do you value justice?" the voice asked. "Or mercy? Which do you trust more: instinct or caution?"
[15 SECONDS]
I could see them. Really see them. Laughing. Talking. Just people. Just alive.
Would I be any better if I let them burn? Would I be any safer?
[10 SECONDS]
I reached for the glyph. My choice burned into reality.
And the world shattered again.
When the light returned, I was standing in the marble hall once more.
I dropped to my knees. Sweating. Cold. I was alive.
But something inside me… wasn't.
Then the voice spoke again. Still amused. But quieter now.
"You are starting to understand, I see it. This is about truth. And the truth, little one, is never pretty."
I killed all of them. But I had no choice. What else could I have done?
[TRIAL OF TRUTH: FINAL]
At least… this was the final part of the trial. That's what I told myself.
Then the marble floor beneath me split. A soft door of white light opened ahead.
I squinted against the glow—and froze.
Two silhouettes emerged. A woman. And a boy. My mother. My brother.
Alive. Breathing. Real.
I didn't need to touch them to know. They weren't memories. Weren't projections. Weren't conjured lies. They were them.
And they couldn't see me.
They looked around, confused. My mother clutched her hands close to her chest. My brother stepped forward—protective by instinct, unaware that the thing they needed protection from was already here.
That it was me.
A glyph formed in front of me. No timer. Just waiting.
The Voice, smooth and final:
"Choose who lives. Or lose both."
And that's when the scream finally came. From me. From the last, fraying part of me that still believed in something.
"HOW DARE YOU DO THIS! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!"
The Voice didn't flinch.
"Oh now," it said softly. "There's no need for such rage, child. You've come so far. One final truth—and then you'll be free."
The right choice was to choose my mother. I knew this. I knew I had to, but killing my own mother was impossible. My hand did not want to move.
I looked at my brother again. I could not fail them—my mother would hate me forever.
I slammed the glyphs, choosing my mother.
But—why did they both die?
I stared at the space where they had stood. They were just… gone. I had chosen. I had acted. And still—gone.
My mouth trembled open.
And then it came. Her voice.
"You expect reward for obedience?"
A pause. Heavy. Icy.
"You misunderstand your place."
"You were not meant to save. You were meant to break."
I flinched. Something inside me recoiled like a dog struck.
"That illusion was crafted to wound you perfectly. It did. You grieved. You shattered. You begged. Acceptable parameters."
I said nothing. I couldn't.
"You are not significant. You are not remembered. You are one of many. You moved. You chose. That is all that matters."
"The Trial is passed."
There was a sensation. Like a breath drawn not through lungs—but through the bones of the world itself.
The marble beneath my knees began to tremble. Light dimmed. Heat vanished.
The presence that had stalked me for so long—the voice that called me child, toy, nothing—disappeared.
And something else took its place. Something much less human. Something that had never needed to pretend.
A voice emerged. A voice of stone and fire and pressure so deep it belonged beneath creation.
"Well done, mortal. You have proven yourself through the first two. I wonder… if you are truly ready for the final trial."
[THIRD TRIAL]
[TRIAL OF COMBAT]