The air shifted again.
The chamber of her origin collapsed into silver dust, and Athena found herself alone once more. No Lucas. No light. Only the sound of her own breath echoing against the black.
Then came the voice. Not the voice of her shadow self, but something colder—older.
"Three fragments remain. You cannot rise whole unless you pass through each."
A door opened ahead, pulsing like a heartbeat.
She stepped forward.
Trial One: The Trial of Love Twisted
She entered a room shrouded in velvet dusk. Moonflowers bloomed along the walls, releasing a sweet, dizzying scent.
And in the center Kieran.
Or the memory of him.
He stood shirtless, his chest marked with the same sigils from their binding ceremony, eyes hollow, mouth stained with blood. He smiled, the kind of smile he wore the first night he swore to protect her.
"I loved you, Athena," he whispered. "I still do."
Athena's chest tightened. "You're not real."
"I was," the phantom said. "Until you chose him."
