The Chamber of Vision was not a chamber.
It was a labyrinth of mirrors.
Hundreds of reflective surfaces stretched in every direction, forming an infinite corridor of fragmented reflections. Each mirror showed Maxime from a different angle—but something was wrong. The reflections did not move in perfect synchronization with him. A delay of a fraction of a second. A smile that did not match his expression. A hand movement he had not made.
[TRIAL OF VISION: Illusion and Reality]
[Objective: Find the exit by distinguishing the true from the false]
[Failure: Loss of the ability to recognize yourself]
"Charming," Maxime muttered as he moved forward cautiously.
The floor was smooth, almost slippery. Each step echoed strangely, multiplying until it became a chaotic cacophony. He touched a mirror with the tips of his fingers—the surface was cold, but not solid. His finger passed through it like water.
A trap.
He pulled his hand back quickly. In the mirror, his reflection smiled. A smile he had not made. A smile closer to a predatory grin.
"You are afraid." The reflection spoke, and it was not his voice. It was deeper, tinged with arrogance. "You are afraid of becoming me."
Maxime stepped back. The other reflections began to speak as well, a discordant chorus.
"Pathetic."
"Weak."
"You are unworthy."
"Eros will replace you."
"You will disappear."
He covered his ears, but the voices echoed inside his skull. Not external. Internal. His own fears amplified and projected.
Focus.
He closed his eyes, cutting off his vision. If this was a Trial of Vision, then perhaps seeing was not the solution. Perhaps he needed to… feel.
He extended his senses, that awareness of mana Nyx had taught him. The world changed behind his closed eyelids. Filaments of energy ran through the labyrinth—some bright and solid, others weak and trembling.
The illusory mirrors emitted a different energy signature. Colder. Emptier.
The real passages—the ones that led somewhere—pulsed with a subtle warmth.
Maxime opened his eyes and moved forward, ignoring the screaming reflections. He touched a mirror identical to the others, but with a different energy signature. His hand passed through—not into emptiness, but into a real corridor.
He stepped through.
The labyrinth reorganized around him. Mirrors pivoted, creating new paths and blocking old ones. But now he could feel the flow. He moved with more confidence, his fingers brushing the surfaces, distinguishing the real from the illusory.
Then he saw her.
Nyx.
She stood at the end of a corridor, her back turned, her stellar nightgown rippling in a nonexistent wind.
"Nyx?" He approached, wary. It was probably an illusion.
She turned around. Her face was exactly as he remembered—beautiful, cold, inhuman. But her eyes were different. They held no galaxies. They were empty.
"You abandoned me."
Her voice was flat. Dead.
"You entered this place alone. You left me outside. Just as Eros left me in Tartarus."
"That's not true." Maxime stopped a few meters away. "I promised I would come back."
"Promises." She laughed, hollowly. "Eros made promises too. And he died, leaving me alone for three thousand years."
Her hands rose, and darkness burst from her palms like living serpents. They writhed through the air, lunging toward Maxime.
He dodged, rolling aside. The shadow serpents slammed into a mirror, which exploded into razor-sharp fragments.
"You are not her." Maxime summoned his sword of darkness. "Nyx would never attack me."
"Are you sure?" The false Nyx advanced, and with every step her appearance degraded. Her skin paled, cracked. Her eyes hollowed. "She waited for you for so long. So long that she became… something else. Obsessive. Possessive. Broken."
She lunged.
Maxime parried the first blow, but the force of the impact sent him sliding backward. This was no simple illusion. It was a solid construct, fueled by divine magic.
[FALSE NYX — LEVEL 18]
[Nature: Manifestation of the bearer's doubts]
My doubts.
He understood. This was not really Nyx. It was his fear of what she might become. His fear of her obsession with him.
The false Nyx attacked again, claws of darkness extended. Maxime dodged, slashed—but his blade passed through without causing damage. Physical attacks would not work.
So what would?
He remembered the Emotional Trial. Acceptance. Not denial.
Maxime lowered his sword.
"You're right." The words were difficult, but he spoke them. "She is obsessive. Possessive. Probably dangerous."
The false Nyx stopped, confused.
"But she also protected me. Trained me. Waited for me." Maxime stepped forward. "And yes, I am afraid of that obsession. Afraid it could become toxic. Afraid I won't be able to give her what she wants."
Another step.
"But that is my fear. Not reality. And I will not let it control me."
He extended his hand, palm open, toward the creature.
"Disappear."
The false Nyx froze. Her features blurred, lost focus. Then she dissipated like smoke, leaving only a whisper.
"Wise…"
[MANIFESTATION OF DOUBTS: DISPELLED]
[INCREASED UNDERSTANDING: You can only fight your fears by accepting them]
The labyrinth trembled. The mirrors began to crack, revealing golden light behind them. One by one, they shattered, and Maxime found himself in a small circular chamber.
A single door stood before him. An exit.
[TRIAL OF VISION: COMPLETED]
[Reward: +3 Perception]
[New Passive Skill: Illusion Detection (Rank E)]
Maxime let out a long breath, tension leaving his shoulders. Two trials. Two successes. Two more to go.
He passed through the door and emerged into the central hall.
Bastet was waiting for him, but this time she was no longer near the basin. She stood before the third door—the one marked with a mouth. Taste.
"Two out of two." Her green eyes gleamed with something like excitement. "You are stronger than I thought. More… interesting."
She approached, her feline gait hypnotic.
"But the next two won't be mental, little god." Her finger traced a line down Maxime's chest, slowly descending. "They will be… physical."
Maxime instinctively stepped back.
"What does that mean?"
Bastet smiled, revealing sharp canines.
"Taste. Touch. These senses can only be tested through… direct experience." She licked her lips. "And I can't wait to see how you react."
She snapped her fingers. The door of Taste opened, revealing a room bathed in soft golden light. Inside, Maxime saw a table covered with varied dishes—fruits, meats, pastries, wines. All of them looked delicious. Perfect.
Too perfect.
"Enter. Eat. Drink." Bastet gestured theatrically. "But be careful what you choose. Some will nourish your body. Others… will poison your soul."
"And if I refuse to eat anything?"
"Then you fail." Simple. Direct. "Taste exists only if you taste."
Maxime clenched his fists. He had no real choice.
He entered the Chamber of Taste.
The door closed behind him with a final click.
The table was immense, laden with more food than he could eat in a week. Everything looked appetizing, yet his stomach twisted with apprehension.
[TRIAL OF TASTE: Discernment]
[Objective: Consume 3 pure dishes/drinks. Avoid corrupted ones.]
[Failure: Loss of sense of taste and poisoning of divine essence]
Maxime approached the table, examining the options. Nothing appeared obviously dangerous. No black smoke. No foul odor. Just magnificent food.
He closed his eyes, focusing on his mana sense. Some dishes emitted a warm glow. Others… a subtle coldness. Almost imperceptible.
He reached for a fruit—a golden apple softly glowing. The signature was warm, alive.
He bit into it.
The flavor exploded in his mouth. Sweet, juicy, perfect. A wave of warmth spread through his body.
[1/3 PURE CONSUMPTIONS]
[Effect: +5 HP restored]
He smiled faintly. It worked.
He examined the table again. A goblet of wine caught his attention—its energy signature was warm, almost burning. He took a sip.
The liquid was spicy, strong, but not unpleasant. Another wave of warmth.
[2/3 PURE CONSUMPTIONS]
[Effect: +10 Mana restored]
One more. He had to be careful.
His gaze settled on a piece of roasted meat. The signature was… ambiguous. Neither clearly warm nor cold. Uncertain.
He hesitated. Risky.
Instead, he chose a small honey cake. The signature was faintly warm, but steady.
He bit into it.
Mistake.
The sweetness instantly turned into burning bitterness. His body seized, sharp pain tearing through his stomach.
[CORRUPTED CONSUMPTION]
[Effect: -15 HP, Minor Poisoning (Duration: 5 minutes)]
[2/3 PURE CONSUMPTIONS — PARTIAL FAILURE]
Maxime collapsed against the table, gasping. The pain was intense, as if his digestive system were on fire.
Damn it. One more.
He needed a perfect choice. Just one.
His eyes swept the table desperately. Every dish now seemed suspicious. His judgment was clouded by pain.
Then he saw something simple.
Water.
A clear glass filled with clean water.
No complex energy signature. Just… neutral. Pure.
He grabbed the glass and drank it in one gulp.
Coolness. Clarity. The pain in his stomach gradually eased.
[3/3 PURE CONSUMPTIONS]
[TRIAL OF TASTE: COMPLETED]
[Reward: +2 Endurance]
[Minor Poisoning: Dispelled]
The door in front of him opened. Maxime straightened up with effort, wiping sweat from his brow.
Three trials. Three successes.
One left.
He emerged into the central hall, staggering slightly. Bastet was waiting, and this time her smile was less mocking. Almost… admiring.
"Three." She stepped closer, helping him steady himself. "You surprise me, little god. Truly."
Her hand remained on his shoulder, warm and reassuring despite her clearly ambiguous intentions.
"One more trial, and the fragment is yours." Her eyes drifted toward the remaining doors. "Choose wisely."
Maxime looked at the options: Hearing, Smell, Touch—and the mysterious seventh door marked with intertwined bodies.
His instincts screamed to avoid the seventh. That left three choices.
"Touch," he said at last. Might as well finish the physical trials.
Bastet laughed softly.
"Bold." She guided him toward the door marked with a hand. "But be careful. Touch is… intimate. More than you think."
The door opened.
Beyond it lay a dimly lit chamber. And at its center, a chained female figure, head bowed.
Maxime felt his blood run cold.
This was not an ordinary trial.
"Enter." Bastet's voice was now a whisper. "And discover what touch truly means."
He had no choice.
He stepped inside.