The hour passed too quickly. The group spent the time in tense silence, each of them experimenting with their interfaces, testing the weight and feel of their new forms. Alex had tried seventeen different command sequences to find an exit protocol. All seventeen had failed. The last one had triggered a default sequence, warning significant consequences for repeated bot like actions.
Now they stood at the base of the ziggurat, the blue flames casting dancing shadows across their faces. The black river had gone still as glass behind them.
Sekhmet materialized at the top of the first tier of steps, flames parting around her like a living curtain.
"Your hour has ended," she announced, her voice carrying easily across the distance. "The First Trial awaits. Approach."
They climbed the steps together, none of them willing to be first and none willing to be last. The stone was warm beneath Alex's feet, almost uncomfortably so. She could feel heat radiating from the flames on either side. At the top of the first tier, Sekhmet waited before a massive bronze door carved with scenes of battle. The images on the door flared to life, real lions tearing into prey, teeth and claws bloody. Warriors falling beneath sword and claw. At the center, a single figure stood alone against an army of shadows.
"The first key is found at the end of the Trial of Courage," Sekhmet said, gesturing to the door. "Beyond this threshold lies an arena where champions are forged or broken. Where the worthy prove their valor, and the weak are revealed for what they are."
Alex's stomach tightened. She'd been expecting some kind of puzzle, maybe a riddle. Not... whatever this was.
"Each of you will face this trial," Sekhmet continued, then paused, her feline smile widening. "Eventually. But time is precious, is it not? I am... impatient to see what you are made of."
She began to pace before them, predatory and graceful.
"So I offer you a choice. Send me just one champion, make them your very best, your bravest, your strongest. Send them to face my trial alone. If they succeed, all four of you advance to the second trial. If they fail..." Her eyes glinted in the firelight. "You all return to the beginning. Then you must choose again. Choose wisely."
"Wait," Ethan said. "You mean we could be stuck in a loop? Just... repeatedly failing the first trial?"
"Until you succeed, yes." Sekhmet's tone was almost bored. "Or until you flash red and admit defeat. Those are your options, little hacker. I repeat choose wisely."
Silence fell over the group. Alex could feel the weight of three pairs of eyes turning toward her. "Don't look at me," she said immediately. "I got us into this mess, I'm not—"
"Exactly," Mia cut in, her golden filigree pulsing rapidly. "You got us into this. Maybe you should be the one to get us out."
"That's not fair," Sam protested, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Fair?" Mia laughed, sharp and bitter. "Nothing about this is fair, Sam. We're trapped in a game because your girlfriend didn't do her job to check the safeties and make sure we had an exit out. Now we are trapped playing a game, and one of us has to be first... plus we don't know what the game is exactly?" She turned to Sekhmet. "What happens if they fail? Do they die?"
"Death?" Sekhmet considered this. "In a manner of speaking. Your avatar will be... incapacitated. Returned to a respawn point. You will experience pain, yes. Fear, certainly. But your mortal shell will remain intact." Her smile sharpened. "Though I cannot promise the same for your mind. Each respawn takes some data, some power from your avatar. Essentially each time you respawn weaker than before."
Alex felt her blood run cold.
"Okay, so we need to think strategically," Ethan said, and she could hear him slipping into problem-solving mode, the same voice he used when debugging code or planning their hacks. "This is a trial of courage, right? So it's testing both physical ability and... what, facing our fears?"
"You could say it in such a way, the arena is designed to challenge your champion in body and spirit," Sekhmet confirmed. "They must prove they possess both strength and the will to face their greatest fear."
"So we need someone who's physically capable and emotionally stable, someone without any crazy phobias" Sam said slowly. "Someone who can handle combat and won't break when things get psychological."
"Combat," Mia repeated. "Do any of us actually know how to fight? This isn't a turn-based RPG, this is full immersion. We're going to have to actually move, actually dodge and strike and..."
"I took Krav Maga for two years," Ethan said. Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. "What? My mom was worried about me getting mugged in the city. I know some basics. And this is still a game, so we must have some updates and advancements."
"Basics might not be enough, and this isn't any normal game" Alex said quietly. She was thinking, calculating odds, trying to see the angles. "Sekhmet said it would challenge body and spirit. That means it's not just about fighting skills or about actual strength. It's about endurance, pain tolerance, and facing whatever fear the game manifests. Each person will face a unique challenge designed for them."
"So who's the most fearless?" Sam asked, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, that's the wrong question. Who has the best chance of overcoming their fear, even if they're terrified? Which one of us is ready to face our fears once and for all?"
Another silence. This one heavier.
"Not me," Mia said finally, her voice small. "I... I don't do well with pain and if it's going to manifest fears..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I have claustrophobia. If it traps me in a small space, I'll panic. I know I will. Worse if she locks me in there with spiders or snakes, I just can't."
Sam nodded slowly. "I'm not great with physical confrontation. I freeze up in fights, always have. Even in VR, I..." He trailed off, looking ashamed. "I'm not the fighting type."
That left Alex and Ethan.
"I'll do it," they said simultaneously, then looked at each other.
"No," Ethan said firmly. "Alex, you're the one who understands the game architecture. If something goes wrong, you're the only one who might be able to hack a solution. We can't risk losing you on the first trial. We don't really know how bad the consequences are going to be."
" You're the one with actual combat training," Alex countered. "But Ethan, your fear—" She stopped herself, but it was too late.
His jaw tightened. "My fear of what?"
She didn't want to say it. Not here, not in front of everyone. But they were choosing who might die in the next hour. Truth mattered.
"Abandonment," she said quietly. "You're terrified of being left behind. Of people leaving you." She'd known since they were sixteen, since she'd found him having a panic attack in the school parking lot after his dad moved out. "If the trial manifests that..."
"I can handle it," Ethan said, but she could see the muscle jumping in his jaw.
"Can you?" Mia's voice was sharp. "Because you couldn't handle it when your dad left. You barely handled it when your mom died senior year. If this game throws that at you... hell none of us would fault you."
"I said I can handle it." Ethan's voice rose. "At least my fear isn't going to get me killed in actual combat. What's yours, Alex? What are you so afraid of that makes you so perfect to be the first to face this trial?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Alex felt her throat tighten. She knew her fear. Had known it for six years. Had lived with it every single day.
"Irrelevance," she said finally. "Being... invisible. Not mattering." She forced herself to meet Ethan's eyes. "Watching the people I love and care about most choose someone else."
The words landed like stones in still water. Sam's hand reaching for her shoulder and stopping halfway, aware of the weight of her confession. Ethan's expression shifting through surprise, understanding, and something that looked almost like pain.
"So none of us are ideal," Sam said, breaking the moment. "But we have to choose."
"Okay so if we have to choose between you two, then we look at the full picture," Mia said, and her voice had gone clinical, detached. "Ethan has combat training but a fear that could paralyze him. Alex has no combat training but a fear that might..." She hesitated. "Well to be honest, her fear might make her fight harder. To prove she matters."
"That's a hell of a gamble," Sam muttered.
"It's all a gamble," Alex said. She looked at Sam, really looked at him. Saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands kept clenching and unclenching. He wanted to volunteer, wanted to be the hero. She could see the fear underneath, the old wounds not quite healed. Truth, that he was never enough to make her feel seen. She realized something: she'd been running from her fear for six years. Hiding from it, burying it, pretending it didn't exist. Maybe it was time to face it head-on.
"I'll go," she said. "I should go. Mia's right, this is my responsibility. I got us into this mess and—"
"Alex—" Ethan started.
"No, I'm serious." She turned to face Sekhmet. "I'm your champion, and I have to get us through this."
"Are you certain?" The goddess's eyes gleamed with interest. "Once chosen, there is no substitution. You face the trial alone."
"I'm certain. It's the first trial how hard can it be?" Alex turns Sekhmet, ready to accept the trial and consequences that follow if she fails.
"Alex, wait." Ethan grabbed her arm, pulled her aside. The others couldn't hear them over the crackling flames, but she could feel their eyes watching. "You don't have to do this. We can figure out another way, or I can—"
"You can't," she said softly. "Ethan, you're brave. You're one of the bravest people I know but your fear... it's deep. It's old. I don't think you're ready to face it. Not yet, not like this."
"You're ready to face yours?"
She thought about it. About six years of loving him in silence, of being the second choice, of wondering if anyone would notice if she disappeared tomorrow.
"No," she admitted. "But I might as well."
His hand was still on her arm, warm even through the scales of her robe. His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she saw something there something that made her breath catch.
"If you die in there—" he started.
"I won't."
"But if you do—"
"Then you'll find another way to beat this game." She smiled, trying for confidence she didn't feel. "You're good at that. Finding solutions."
"Alex." His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you. Before you go in there. In case—"
"No." She pulled away gently. "Don't. Whatever it is, save it. Tell me when I come back."
If he said what she thought he might say, what she'd been hoping he'd say for six years, she'd lose her nerve completely.
Alex turned back to Sekhmet before Ethan could argue any further.
"I'm ready."
The goddess smiled, all teeth and fire. "Then step forward, little hacker. Let us see what you are made of."
The bronze doors swung open, revealing darkness beyond. Not the absence of light, but something deeper. A void that seemed to swallow all sound, warmth and hope.
Alex took a step forward. Behind her, she heard Sam's quiet "Good luck," Mia's sharp exhale, and Ethan's silence, which somehow hurt more than anything else.
She stepped through the doors.
They slammed shut behind her.
The trial began.