The silver light dimmed as the three girls stepped deeper into the unknown. The air grew heavy; the whispers of the past turned into distinct voices, calling their names from every direction.
> "Lalin…"
"Emma…"
"Allia…"
Each voice carried sorrow and accusation — echoes from lives once lived.
The mist thickened again, shaping into illusions of those they had lost — family, friends, and the faces of enemies they had once forgiven.
Emma's knees trembled.
"They're not real… right?" she whispered, gripping Lalin's arm.
But the warmth of a phantom hand brushed against her cheek, and the pain felt all too real.
Allia's eyes filled with tears.
"These are not illusions," she said softly. "They are memories that refused to fade… pieces of the souls bound to the Mists."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shifted.
From the darkness, countless glowing symbols appeared — ancient runes pulsing in rhythm with their heartbeats.
Each rune revealed fragments of their bloodlines: the wars their ancestors fought, the sacrifices they made, and the curses they carried.
Lalin clenched her fists. "If this is what it takes to break the curse… then I'll face it."
The three joined hands again, and a light surged from their palms — pure, fierce, and alive. The voices screamed and dissolved into silence. The mist parted slightly, revealing a narrow bridge of crystal stretching into the unknown.
Their first trial was not over — it had only just begun. But for the first time, they walked forward knowing who they were… and what they must become.