The bell rang once. Seijuro blinked and the world broke. The air was colder, heavier, pressing against his lungs with the familiarity of a held breath. A cave. Low ceiling. Narrow throat. Walls chewed open by time and violence. Torchlight burned in shallow iron brackets, its glow sickly and uneven, bending shadows into shapes that didn't quite obey the stone beneath them. The smell came next. Wet earth. Old iron. Rotting fear. Seijuro's boots stood where he had sworn he would never stand again. A chest placed in the middle. Blood stained the floor in dark, uneven patches, soaked so deeply into the rock that no amount of memory could scrub it away. His chest tightened sharply, breath catching before his mind could intervene,
"No," he said.
He reached for his sword on his back,
It's not there! Did I drop it?!
The word fell dead at his feet. This wasn't a simulation of the cave. This was the cave. Tenebris stirred inside him immediately, low and agitated, like something wounded recognizing the place it had bled.
A sound came from behind him. He was tall, shoulders still broad despite the years, posture straight in a way that suggested discipline without warmth. He wore a dark coat buttoned neatly to the collar, the fabric clean and unwrinkled, boots polished despite the cave floor. His hair was streaked with gray now, combed back precisely, his sharp features carved deeper by time and distance. His eyes were the same as Seijuro remembered, cold, assessing, already disappointed, "You always hated places like this."
Seijuro didn't turn. His spine went rigid, "Father…"
"Too quiet," the voice continued. "Makes it harder to lie to yourself."
He turned slowly. His father stood against the rock wall, arms folded, posture loose and dismissive. Torchlight carved harsh lines into his face, deepening the familiar severity. He looked exactly as Seijuro remembered him the day he left, already halfway gone,
"Well," the man said, glancing around with thinly veiled distaste, "this suits you. Always gravitating toward messes."
Seijuro's throat tightened, "You're not real," he said. "You abandoned us."
His father smiled faintly. Not cruel. Worse. Indifferent, "I know."
The ease of it hurt more than shouting ever could, "You were a burden," the man went on calmly. "Your mother clung to you like you were fragile. I told her that kind of weakness rots a household. She should have bashed your head open."
He gestured lazily at the cave. "Looks like rot followed you."
Seijuro felt heat build behind his ribs, sharp and compressed. His Tenebris pulsed in response, shadows along the walls twitching like something waking. Before he could speak, the torchlight bent. Not flickered. Bent inward, stretching toward the far end of the cave where darkness pooled unnaturally thick. Something moved. The air distorted, pressure crushing downward as a presence forced itself into the space. The cave groaned in response, stone grinding against stone like teeth. Seijuro's heart stuttered,
"No," he breathed.
It emerged slowly. Too tall. Too wrong. Ren's fear form unfolded from the darkness like a memory twisted by terror. Limbs elongated at unnatural angles, joints bending where they shouldn't. His silhouette was broken, fractured, as if reality had failed to finish rendering him. Black Tenebris poured off his body in slow, heavy strands, dragging across the ground like oil. Where his face should have been, there was too much, too many shadows layered over the suggestion of eyes, a mouth stretched into a permanent, jagged grin that split the darkness. A beating heart in his chest that swallowed light whole. The thing tilted its head. Seijuro couldn't breathe, "Big brother, why didn't you save me?" Ren said.
The voice came from everywhere at once, too deep, layered with echoes that scraped against Seijuro's nerves. It sounded like Ren's voice remembered through panic, "You came back," it continued. "I wondered how long it would take."
Seijuro's legs felt weak, "That's not you," he said, forcing the words out.
The thing laughed. The sound rattled loose stones from the ceiling, "Of course it is," Ren's fear form said. "I'm what you left behind. This is your doing."
It took a step forward. The cave reacted instantly. Shadows surged, walls pulling inward, Tenebris thickening in response to Seijuro's spike of emotion,
"Big brother…" Ren said. "You let me die."
Seijuro shook his head once. "I didn't…"
"You hesitated," the creature snapped, its form warping violently, limbs stretching as it loomed closer. "Just long enough."
The memory slammed into him. The half-second of indecision. The sound he'd never been able to erase. Just like that. Seijuro ran. The rook around him didn't move. He looked down, eyes widening in horror. He wasn't moving anywhere,
Running on one spot?! This isn't real…
He stopped and slowly turned around,
"I was afraid," Seijuro said, voice raw.
The fear-form leaned down, its distorted face inches from his, "So was I."
The words hit harder than any accusation. Behind them, his father watched with detached interest, "There it is," he murmured. "The truth you keep choking on." He stepped closer. "You see why I left? Always drowning in guilt. Always dragging everyone else under with you."
Ren's fear form straightened, shadow stretching across the cave ceiling. "Say it," it demanded. Seijuro swallowed. His chest felt compressed, like the cave itself was pressing inward,
"Say what?" he asked,
"Say it was your fault."
The Tenebris around them surged violently, reacting to the demand. The walls groaned, cracks spiderwebbing outward as pressure mounted. His father nodded, "Honesty," he said, "For once."
Seijuro's hands shook. Images flooded him. Ren turning, the moment of stillness, the impact. His mouth opened. Closed. He gasped, sucking in air like he'd been underwater. But then. A hand closed around his. Warm. Steady. He froze. The shadows recoiled immediately, like something touching a surface it could not cling to. The cave stuttered, stone shuddering in brief confusion. Seijuro looked up. His mother stood beside him.
She wore layered, practical clothing,cloth wrapped close against the cold, a faded shawl draped over her shoulders, the edges frayed from years of use. Her boots were sturdy and worn, dusted with grit, soles shaped by uneven paths and long walks. A simple necklace, a crescent moon circled her neck, the kind woven and rewoven until it never quite came apart. Her hair was tied back, streaked faintly with gray, loose strands already escaping. Her hands were rough, calloused, not from weapons, but from labor, from carrying, from holding things together.
She hadn't emerged from the darkness. She hadn't torn her way in. She was simply there. No Tenebris clung to her. No distortion followed her presence. The cave did not bend around her at all. It didn't react, except to give way. She smiled. The same small, tired smile she wore when things were difficult but manageable. Her grip on his hand was firm. Ren recoiled a step. Its form warped violently, shadows shedding in heavy clumps that evaporated before touching the ground. The void in its chest pulsed erratically, like something suddenly starved. His father stiffened, "What is this," he said sharply.
The cave did not answer him. Seijuro tried to speak. Nothing came out. His chest still hurt. His hands still shook. But the crushing pressure was gone, held back by her presence alone. She squeezed his hand once. Then she turned and started walking.
The stone ahead of them softened immediately, seams appearing where there had been none. A narrow passage opened, sloping upward, pale light spilling faintly from beyond. An exit. Ren screamed, not in rage, but in refusal. The sound tore through the cave, shadows surging desperately, reaching for Seijuro's back. They stopped short. They could not cross the space around her. His father took a step forward, anger flaring sharp and sudden, "You don't get to do this," he snapped.
She didn't look at him. She kept walking. Seijuro stumbled once, legs weak, but her grip never loosened. She didn't drag him. She matched his pace exactly, adjusting without effort when he faltered. The cave tried again. The floor dipped sharply beneath his feet. She steadied him. The walls pulsed inward. They halted inches from her shoulders. Ren lunged. Its elongated form slammed into an invisible boundary and shattered into streaming Tenebris that collapsed back into shadow. The scream cut off abruptly.
Seijuro's breathing slowly steadied as they moved, step by step, toward the light. His Tenebris settled, not suppressed, not forced, simply calmed by proximity, like a storm losing momentum. They reached the mouth of the passage. The air beyond was cleaner. She stopped. Seijuro turned to her. She met his eyes. Still smiling. She lifted his hand gently and pressed it to his chest, right over his heart. Held it there for a moment. Long enough for the message to land without words. Seijuros vision blurred with unshed tears,
"Mom…"
Then she let go. She stepped back. The cave did not claim her. She did not vanish violently or fade unnaturally. She simply became unnecessary, her presence no longer required for the path ahead. Seijuro stood alone at the threshold. He looked back once. The cave was quiet now. Ren and his father gone. Shadows thinned to nothing. He stepped forward. The moment his foot crossed into the light, the cave sealed behind him, not trapping, not collapsing. Above him, clear and final, the bell rang. Trial Three ended.