SAI SHINU
The door appeared suddenly, as if it had been waiting for us all along. Its frame was dark, almost bleeding into the shadows, yet faint light leaked from the edges. We hesitated, each of us exchanging cautious glances.
"Do we have another choice?" I asked, though my own voice sounded hollow in the heavy air.
Taro's hand hovered over the handle, but he didn't move. Jiro shifted uneasily, eyes darting to the edges of the darkness. Yosuke's golden gaze held resolve, but even he didn't step forward immediately.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The world shifted instantly.
We were no longer in a corridor or a misty expanse. The room that greeted us felt… wrong. It was large, but the walls were painted a deep, unsettling red, completely covered with drawings and photographs, each frame more chaotic than the last. Some depicted serene scenes, but most were grotesque, figures twisting unnaturally, faces frozen in silent screams.
The floor beneath us was a mosaic of white and black blocks, each step clicking loudly in the oppressive silence. Even the ceiling mirrored the walls, a crimson expanse that seemed to press down on us.
And then he appeared.
An old man, grey short hair and a neatly trimmed beard, with black, unfeeling eyes that seemed to pierce through me. He didn't move hastily or speak immediately. He just stood at the far end of the room, watching.
"Sit," he said finally, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. It wasn't loud, but the command echoed in the room. "On the table."
We found it almost instinctively. A massive white table dominated the center of the room, its surface smooth, reflective, almost too pristine in contrast to the chaos of the walls. One by one, we took our seats, the floor cool beneath us.
No one spoke. The air was thick, heavy with anticipation. I felt my heart pounding—not just from fear, but from the weight of knowing this zone was designed to trap something deeper inside each of us.
The old man's gaze swept over us. "You have passed the Graveyard of Memories," he said. "But the second trial… this is the realm of choices and truths. Here, you will confront the actions of those you claim to trust, the ones who shaped your past and your present."
I swallowed hard, feeling Yosuke's presence beside me. I didn't need to look at him to know he was thinking the same thing: this was more than a physical trial. It was designed to unravel our minds, to make us question every decision we had ever made.
The silence stretched, pressing against me like a physical weight. The drawings on the walls seemed to shift ever so slightly, shadows moving where they shouldn't, as if watching our reactions.
I focused, forcing my emotions down. Fear, doubt, guilt—they could not take me here. Not yet. Not if I wanted to survive this.
The old man's voice cut through my thoughts again. "You sit. But only when you speak your truths will the path forward reveal itself."
I glanced at Taro, Jiro, and Yosuke. None of them moved, though I could see the tension in their bodies, the unspoken questions flickering in their eyes.
The old man nodded, as if satisfied with my words. "Very well," he said. "Let us begin."
The old man's black eyes bore into each of us, cold and unblinking. "You will speak," he said, "but only the truth will grant passage. No lies, no evasion."
I swallowed, feeling the weight of those words. My pulse thundered in my ears. I had faced countless foes in battle, had stared death in the face, but this… this was different. Here, the battlefield was our own consciences.
"You will each answer a question," the old man continued, his voice smooth, carrying authority that demanded obedience. "Answer truthfully, or the path forward remains closed."
He turned his gaze to Taro first. "Taro, what truth do you hide from those closest to you?"
Taro's jaw tightened, but he answered steadily. "That I am not as strong as they believe. That I doubt myself more than they could know."
Then Jiro. "Jiro, what is the choice you regret the most?"
Jiro's hands clenched into fists. "Not standing by my friends when I could have. Not acting sooner when it mattered."
Yosuke was next. "And you, Yosuke?"
His golden eyes darkened for a moment. "Failing to protect those I care for, even when I had the power to do so. Failing to prevent the suffering of someone close."
Finally, the old man's gaze shifted to me. "Sai Shinu. You have held back your truths. Speak."
I took a deep breath, letting the memories and regrets wash over me. "To protect those I care about, I killed someone I should have protected. I failed my promise."
The old man's expression did not change, but the room seemed to shift subtly, the red walls darkening in certain corners, shadows stretching.
After the first round of questioning, the old man's voice cut through the silence. "Now, each of you may ask me one question. One. I must answer truthfully."
Taro went first. "If we beat the next stage can we take the godglyph with us?"
"Because you seek power, and power demands revelation. Only the high command will wield it without corruption."
Jiro asked next. "Outside of the gate there are more godglyphs that become gates?"
"Yes," the old man replied, "as much as any truth can be trusted. But know this—truth is not always mercy."
Yosuke leaned forward, his golden eyes piercing. "What happens if you lie?"
"The illusions become real. The game punishes the dishonest."
Finally, all eyes turned to me. I had waited for this moment. I had thought of countless questions, but there was only one that mattered:
"What do you know about godglyphs?" I asked, my voice calm but firm.
The old man's gaze sharpened, black eyes glinting with a weight that made the room feel colder. "More than you can imagine. The godglyphs are fragments of creation itself, pieces of power designed to test mortals. They hold knowledge, abilities, and a reflection of the soul that touches them. But beware—their gifts are not given freely. They demand confrontation, sacrifice, and a willingness to face the truth."
The words lingered in the crimson room, a chilling reminder of how little we truly knew. I clenched my fists, feeling both apprehension and determination. The trial was only beginning, and now I had a clearer understanding of what we faced.
He said with his eyes barely open "But there is one more thing."