The light came first.
It pulsed from the dais like veins of golden fire, threading through the floor in intricate, living patterns. Tarin stumbled back as the stone beneath them reshaped—forming a spiraling arena, vast and humming with dormant power. The well had shifted from ruin to ritual space in the blink of an eye.
> [System Node Triggered – Trial of the Last Vein Initiated]
Marcel grimaced as the symbol on his palm seared with sudden heat. He fell to one knee, gritting his teeth.
"Trial? I didn't sign up for any trial."
Tarin crouched beside him. "What's happening? Is it the shard?"
Marcel nodded, eyes scanning the shifting architecture. "The system's testing us... testing me. This place—it's alive."
Across the chamber, a form rose from the golden veins. Not flesh, but mirrored stone—an echo of Marcel. Same height. Same stance. But hollow-eyed. Dripping shadow.
> [Opponent Manifested – Echo Construct]
The construct lunged.
Marcel barely rolled aside, pulling Tarin with him as a jagged blade of light cleaved through the air. The impact singed the stone.
"Great," Marcel muttered. "Fighting myself. That's not symbolic at all."
Tarin yanked a piece of shattered column loose. "Symbolic or not, it wants us dead!"
They fought together—Tarin ducking and slamming the stone into the construct's legs, while Marcel darted forward, blade drawn. Each strike was met with perfect counters. The echo didn't tire. Didn't bleed.
Every move Marcel made, the echo mirrored—only sharper, more efficient.
> [Warning: Neurological Sync at 89% – Instability Rising]
Marcel stumbled. The shard's power surged again, dragging foreign instincts into his limbs—techniques he'd never learned. Styles ancient and brutal.
Tarin noticed. "You're losing it. Your eyes—they're glowing again."
Marcel fought to stay grounded. "I can feel it... trying to overwrite me."
He spun beneath a blade swipe, slashing across the echo's side. It staggered, flickering. Tarin didn't hesitate. He leapt onto the thing's back and drove the broken column into its head.
The construct exploded in a burst of light.
> [Trial Complete – 1 of ... Acknowledged] [Access Granted – Descent Sealed]
Marcel panted, falling to one knee. The shard pulsed slower now.
Tarin dropped beside him, laughing breathlessly. "So... was that step one?"
Marcel smirked. "If it is, I'm starting to hate ancient architecture."
Tarin held out a hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here before the walls decide we're dessert."
---
Far above them, Lira sat bolt upright. The air had shifted. Not wind. Not sound. But something older. Her skin prickled as if touched by something unseen.
A tremor passed through her chest. Not her own heartbeat. Theirs.
She stood, hands trembling. Her gaze turned to the hills where the well lay hidden.
Something had ended. And something else had begun.
"Come back already," she whispered, voice cracking. "And stop making me feel like the world's ending."
She paced once, then stopped. "Always treating me like a child... Bastards."
But her voice was softer now. Just fear, trying to dress up as anger
---
In the well, the light faded.
Marcel and Tarin climbed the stone path slowly, breath ragged, minds still echoing with what they'd seen. Marcel glanced once more at the faded mural on the wall—the faceless Nine now seeming less like myth and more like warning.
"I need to grow stronger," he said. "But on my own terms. No system. No whispering ghosts."
Tarin clapped him on the shoulder. "Then let's make it count. No more dying. That's an order."
Marcel chuckled weakly. "You're not the boss of me, little brother."
But this time, he didn't resist the support.
They stepped into the cold morning light—changed, wary, stronger, and finally, climbing back toward home.