The cavern shifted once more.
This time, no single figure was called forward. Instead, the ground beneath their feet trembled, splitting into three paths of light that converged into a great circle at the center.
The demon leader's voice echoed, deeper than before.
"Alone, you have faced yourselves. Now, you will face what lies between you. The trial of unity."
A cold wind rose. Mist thickened until even the roots above disappeared. Within the mist, shadows formed—not enemies, not monsters, but fragments of themselves.
Prava saw a reflection of her fear—her shadow-self whispering:
"You will only bring ruin. You are cursed by your bloodline."
Allara faced her mirror—stern, accusing eyes that said:
"Your loyalty will chain you. Your heart will betray your tribe."
Rafael's shadow stepped forth, clad in armor of darkness.
"You cannot protect them. You will always fail when it matters most."
The circle pulsed, forcing them to stand apart. Alone. Each was trapped within their own fear.
Prava fell to her knees, clutching her chest.
"I… can't fight this…"
Her voice trembled—until a hand reached through the mist.
Allara's hand. Strong, steady.
"You are not alone. Not anymore."
Rafael's voice thundered behind them.
"And I won't let either of you fall!"
The mist cracked as their hands joined. Their shadows screamed, twisting in agony as if burned by the light of their bond.
The circle flared with silver fire. Roots above began to glow, and the cavern rumbled as if the entire forest responded.
The demon leader's voice softened now, almost reverent.
"You have passed. Alone, you are fragile. Together, you are unbreakable. This is the truth of your bond."
The mist vanished. The three stood together, their hands still clasped, eyes burning with new resolve.
For the first time, the forest did not test them—it bowed to them.