The deeper they went, the more the basin began to challenge them—not with danger, but with subtle tests of presence. Shapes that shimmered like glass, fragile and hesitant, drifted into their path, each carrying a sense of uncertainty, fear, or longing. They did not speak, but their intent pressed against Rhys and Caria, brushing at the edges of thought, seeking acknowledgment.
One figure, smaller and trembling, hovered directly ahead. Its light flickered like a heartbeat out of rhythm, as if unsure it deserved to exist. Rhys felt a tug at his chest, a silent question pressing against him: Will you see me? Will you let me be?
Caria stepped closer, her voice steady, soft, inviting. "You are here. You can exist. You don't need permission, only presence."
