The figure did not devour Xiao Mu. Instead, it placed him gently into a boundless space. No ground—only paths made of sentences, stretching through the void. Each phrase was an unfinished vow, floating, waiting to be completed.
He stepped forward. Beneath his feet appeared:
"I wish she would stop crying…"
But the sentence broke off, and the path blurred. He had to complete it.
He whispered:
"…even if I must bear her pain."
The path lit up, extending further.
Each step was a trade of memory. He completed:
"I wish the world would treat my brother kindly…
even though I never told him I forgave him."
"I wish to no longer be lonely…
even if I must let go of the memory that once made me feel safe."
With each completion, a memory faded—his mother's voice, his friends' names, even the reason he had wished at all.
At last, he reached the center of the maze—a court formed by three mirrors. They did not reflect his image, but three judges of the wish.
🧙♂️The First Wisher: The Pure Form
A child sat in the mirror, eyes clear, voice like fresh snow:
"You wished her happiness,
but never shared her sorrow.
Is that truly a wish?"
Xiao Mu remembered the girl crying in the rain. He had wished from afar, never approached.
He replied:
"A wish is my projection of the ideal,
not a contract with reality."
The mirror trembled. The first judge faded.
🦉The Twisted Wisher: The Distorted Form
An old man curled in the mirror, eyes cracked, voice like brittle leaves:
"You wished for peace,
yet harbored hatred.
Is your wish hypocrisy?"
Xiao Mu lowered his head. He had cursed someone who betrayed him, then wished for world peace.
He answered:
"My wish is impure
because I am incomplete."
The mirror cracked. The second judge vanished.
🗿The Abandoned Wisher: The Forgotten Form
A silent figure stood, face blurred, voice like wind on a gravestone:
"You wished to become better,
but abandoned your wish after every failure.
Are you merely an escapee?"
Xiao Mu closed his eyes. He had often said, "I'm not worthy to wish," and buried his hopes in dreams.
He replied:
"A wish is not a tool for escape.
It is my flicker of hope for the future,
even when swallowed by darkness."
The mirrors shattered. The three judges merged into one voice:
"You have completed the trial of the wish.
Now, you must choose."
Xiao Mu reached out his hand.
"I wish to become the guardian of the wish,
even if it means never being understood again."
The figure of the wish merged into him. His eyes now held countless unfinished sentences. He was no longer Xiao Mu, but the Debater of the Wish.
The maze collapsed. The world restructured. He stood at a new boundary, ready for the next trial.