The Hall of Verdance stood at the heart of Gaia's citadel, its vaulted ceiling carved from living branches that intertwined high overhead. Sunlight streamed through the leaves in shifting patterns, pooling on the mosaic floor where eight young figures stood in solemn formation.
Cyg was the first to step forward, his breath steady despite the hush. Around him, the other candidates watched with unspoken awe—each one carrying the scars and secrets of their past. Before them loomed the Trialkeeper, a massive statue of a woman crowned in antlers, her eyes aglow with emerald light.
"You who seek to be named Integral Knight," intoned the voice that emanated from the statue, "must prove yourselves worthy. Not by birth, nor by legend—but by the truth in your hearts."
At Cyg's side, Mia clenched her hands, her gaze drifting to the great vines curling around the chamber. She could feel the Creation Force thrumming in her veins, whispering of life unending—but she dared not draw on it. Not yet.
The Trialkeeper's gaze passed over them one by one. "Each of you will face a reflection of your deepest fear. Only by embracing it shall you pass."
Harriet lifted her chin, flame sparking at her fingertips. "And if we refuse?"
"Then Gaia shall remain unguarded," the Trialkeeper said, her voice as soft as falling leaves—and as pitiless.
No one spoke after that.
One by one, they stepped onto the sigil in the center of the floor. With a resonant chime, the hall dissolved into darkness.
Cyg felt cold stone beneath his palms as he rose in a cavern lit by glacial blue. Before him stood the memory he hated most: the frozen corpses of the hostages he had failed to save. His pulse hammered as he drew his blade.
In another vision, Hikari faced a mirror in which she saw her own face twisted into that of the Vampire's Vessel—red-eyed, fanged, laughing as she drenched her hands in innocent blood. She clamped her shaking jaw and whispered, "I am not you."
Charlotte found herself in her father's study, surrounded by blueprints for weapons she had once designed to impress him. The schematics gleamed with cold perfection. "You were never worthy," her father's echo told her. But Charlotte closed her eyes and burned them all to ash.
One by one, they overcame their nightmares. Each victory sent a shudder through the Hall of Verdance, until finally all eight stood together once more, sweat-slick and trembling—but unbroken.
The Trialkeeper's gaze softened. "Then you are ready."
Green radiance flooded the chamber, suffusing their bodies with warmth. In that moment, they felt Gaia itself acknowledging them—its hope, its sorrow, and its fierce determination.
And though none spoke aloud, each silently resolved: whatever trials still lay ahead, they would face them together.
Shall I continue with Chapter 14: Choosing the Synthesis?