---
The forest had changed.
Or perhaps… they had.
Seven examinees emerged from different corners of Eriksa. Each one alone. Each one marked.
The meeting point was a circular clearing—unnaturally flat, as if something massive had once crushed the trees into silence.
A tall black pillar stood in the center, etched with faded runes. Around it, the ground bore no footprints… until now.
Farro arrived third.
His clothes still held dried blood. His bandages had darkened. But his steps were even. Controlled. Quiet like smoke.
He didn't look at the others.
He stood near the pillar, eyes lowered—not in fear, but in distance. As if he hadn't fully returned from wherever he had gone.
Soon, Ira stepped into the clearing.
Their eyes met. Briefly. No words exchanged. But something passed between them—acknowledgment. Memory.
Then the rest arrived.
Some limped. One sobbed silently. Another grinned like he had stolen life itself.
A voice echoed from above.
"Congratulations. You've survived."
A figure descended—floating down from the trees, held aloft by unseen force.
He wore the Examiner's coat. Long. Pale gray. Marked with five vertical slashes across the chest.
"This concludes the forest trial. You are the seven."
No cheers.
Just breath. And rain in the distance.
"You will now be escorted to the final phase. There will be no rest. No delay. From this point forward, the path narrows."
The examiner snapped his fingers once.
A door opened—not a literal one, but a glowing rift that twisted the space just behind the black pillar. Like the forest itself had been sliced open.
"Enter."
They hesitated… except Farro.
He moved first.
Not quickly.
Not boldly.
Simply… without pause.
As if he belonged on the other side.
One by one, the rest followed.
And as the last body passed through, the forest swallowed the portal whole.
---
Transition space. Unknown Time.
They emerged in a dark corridor—stone walls, wet with condensation, lined with glowing veins of violet light pulsing slowly like breath.
No one spoke.
They walked.
And walked.
Until the path opened into a vast chamber—circular, lit from above by cold white flames dancing in midair.
Seven stone chairs.
Seven spots marked on the floor with different symbols.
A new voice filled the air—calm, female, metallic:
"Welcome to the final test."
"This is not a battle."
"Not a puzzle."
"Not a trial of survival."
"It is… a revelation."
The room dimmed.
The air thickened.
Farro's eyes narrowed.
Something wasn't right.
Then the voice spoke again—softer now, as if from inside each of their minds:
"Sit. And meet… yourselves."
Farro felt a tremor in his fingertips.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
The final trial… was not about what they could do.
It was about what they were.