The bell's final echo did not fade. Seijuro felt it settle behind his eyes, a pressure like something pressing a thumb against the back of his skull. The solid platform beneath his boots shuddered once, then fractured, not breaking, but unfolding. Stone peeled away in overlapping segments, rotating outward like petals opening in reverse. The ground he stood on thinned, stretched, then drew back toward the chamber's center. Trial Two was not finished with them.
The remaining platforms began to move again, faster now, the intervals between shifts shortening. The bridges no longer rotated politely. They jerked, snapping into new configurations with a violence that punished delayed reactions,
Damn it! It's getting faster!
A boy near the edge swallowed hard. His Tenebris flared in response, a visible ripple in the air. The stone beneath him dipped sharply. He windmilled, recovered, barely, and froze. Seijuro watched his shoulders lock,
I can't stop this time, I have to be quicker with my movements. Stopping is the trap this time, doesn't matter if I panic or I'm calm, it will get me killed if I hesitate.
The boy's breathing hitched. He forced himself forward, steps too rigid, movements overcorrected. His Tenebris spiked in sharp bursts, jagged and uneven. The bell rang. The space he had occupied collapsed inward, stone folding down and away like it had never existed. The sound of his fall didn't echo. It was swallowed whole. Seijuro's jaw tightened. He stepped onto the next bridge as it slid into alignment, the motion abrupt enough to jar his teeth. His muscles tensed on instinct, Tenebris surging to reinforce,
I need to loosen my grip. Cannot hold or force stability…
His feet adjusted, ankles rolling, knees bending, spine loose. The pressure in his chest eased a fraction. The void below seemed closer now, darker, its surface rippling faintly as if it were water disturbed by unseen movement. A sudden gust tore through the chamber, strong enough to stagger those unprepared. Seijuro's coat snapped violently behind him. For a heartbeat, his balance faltered,
Shit!
His Tenebris flared in a reflexive surge, heat rushing up his spine. The bridge beneath him lurched. He felt the connection immediately, the feedback loop, instantaneous and merciless. Too much. He exhaled sharply through his nose and let the energy bleed off, dispersing it instead of anchoring it. The bridge steadied, but not before his boot skidded close to the edge. Pebbles broke free and vanished into the dark. His pulse hammered, loud in his ears.
Ahead, the ash-gray–haired boy was already moving again. He didn't look back. His Tenebris flowed around him in a controlled sheath, neither tight nor loose, responding in smooth gradients rather than spikes. The pale-haired girl reached another junction. This time, the paths rotated while she stood there, angles shifting mid-step. She didn't rush. She waited, reading the motion, then stepped onto a bridge that was still rising, timing her weight to the apex of its movement,
They're more composed than I am.
Seijuro filed the motion away,
Observation over reaction.
The chamber changed. A low hum vibrated through the stone, resonating through bone. The bridges began to oscillate vertically now, subtle at first, then wider, like slow breaths turning into gasps. Each rise and fall demanded recalibration. Someone laughed. It was thin, brittle, too loud. Seijuro didn't need to look to know what followed. The laugh turned into a sob. The sob into a cry. Tenebris surged, wild and uncontained. The bell rang. Another absence tore itself into the chamber,
Nine.
His throat felt tight. He swallowed and tasted iron. The path ahead narrowed to a single line of stone, no wider than his boot. It sloped upward sharply, then dipped out of sight, disappearing behind a rotating wall segment. There was no alternate route. He stepped onto it. The bridge swayed under his weight, not side to side, but twisting, rotating along its length like a corkscrew being turned slowly. His sense of orientation tilted with it. The horizon ceased to exist,
Don't fight the spin.
He softened his stance, letting his hips turn with the rotation, shoulders loose, gaze fixed not on the void but on the stone directly ahead of his feet. His Tenebris settled into a low, even current, reinforcing just enough to keep his joints responsive without locking them. Halfway across, the rotation reversed. His stomach dropped. A flash of heat surged through his chest, fear sharp and immediate. He felt his control slip, just for a fraction of a second. The stone responded instantly. The bridge jerked. His heel slid. Air rushed up past his calf. Time stretched thin.
Seijuro bent instead of bracing, letting himself fall into the movement rather than away from it. His free foot slapped down hard, toes curling instinctively over the edge. His hands shot out, fingers scraping stone, skin burning as they caught purchase. For a moment, he hung there, body twisted, heart pounding hard enough to bruise. The bell did not ring. He dragged himself upright, breath shallow, muscles shaking, not from exertion, but from the effort of restraint. He stayed where he was for one beat longer than necessary, letting the tremor pass through him instead of clamping down on it,
Steady…
He moved again. By the time he reached the next platform, his shoulders ached with the constant micro-adjustments, his jaw sore from keeping his teeth unclenched. He stepped onto solid stone and felt the strange vertigo of stillness after motion,
Eight.
Lisa stood closer now, her expression unchanged, but her eyes carried something heavier. She watched each movement, each misstep, like she was memorizing them. Kenji spoke again. "The next phase will begin shortly."
A ripple of dread passed through the remaining candidates. The chamber answered, walls sliding inward, narrowing the space. The void below churned, its surface no longer smooth. Shapes moved beneath it, indistinct but massive. Seijuro's gaze flicked downward before he could stop himself. He looked away immediately,
Distraction is death.
The platforms began to rise, one by one, lifting them higher above the dark. The air grew thinner, colder. Breaths came out in faint white clouds. A new bridge extended toward Seijuro's platform, short, steep, and already tilting. He stepped onto it without waiting. The moment his foot made contact, the stone surged upward violently, like a wave cresting,
Bend with it… shift my weight forward.
Wind tore past his ears, stealing sound. At the peak, the bridge dropped,
Shit! Gotta fall with it!
The descent was sudden, stomach lurching, but he didn't resist. He let gravity take him, knees bending deeply on impact as the bridge slammed into alignment with the next platform. Pain shot up his legs, sharp and bright, but contained. He rolled his shoulders once and kept moving. Across from him, the ash-haired boy landed almost simultaneously, eyes sharp, lips pressed thin. For the first time, their gazes met. There was no challenge there. No reassurance either,
His control is better than mine.
Another candidate wasn't so fortunate. They landed stiff, Tenebris flaring in a desperate attempt to force stability. The bridge bucked in response, flipping them sideways. The bell rang,
Seven.
The chamber stilled. The remaining platforms locked into place, forming a rough circle around the bell at the center. Kenji lowered his arms. Lisa exhaled, slow and quiet,
"This concludes the active phase of Trial Two," she said.
Seijuro's lungs burned. He hadn't realized how shallow his breathing had become until he tried to draw a full breath and couldn't quite manage it. His hands trembled faintly at his sides, fingers tingling,
That was a lot of Tenebris I used just for trial two… I have to preserve as much as I can.
He grounded himself in the feeling of stone beneath his boots. The bell hung above them, unmoving. Seven sigils glowed faintly in the darkness. Trial Two had not broken him. But as Seijuro looked at the empty spaces where the others should have been, he understood with a cold, sinking clarity. It had not finished taking its price.