"Thank you," he said to Lily, his voice echoed. "For not giving up on me."
She was startled by the sound, water droplets scattering from her hair like tiny prisms catching the bioluminescent light. "AJ! You can talk again!"
The others gathered, their rest interrupted but none seeming to mind. They clustered around the stone where AJ had spread himself, their faces displaying various shades of relief.
"How do you feel?" Sam asked, notebook already in hand.
AJ rippled thoughtfully. "Like a puzzle reassembled with several pieces missing." He formed a small tendril that rose and fell in what they recognised as his version of a shrug. "Functional, but incomplete."
Walter nodded, leaning on his cane. "Recovery takes time. Even with the tower's intervention."
"Speaking of time," Victor interjected, "our five hours must be nearly up."
As if summoned by his words, the pools began to drain with a soft, sighing sound. The moss dimmed gradually, its bioluminescence fading like stars at dawn. The cavern itself seemed to exhale, walls contracting subtly inward.
"Guess the spa day's over," Ethan spoke. The massive bruise that had bloomed across his chest had faded to a yellowish shadow.
They dressed quickly, gathering their gear in a practiced manner. AJ flowed up to his customary place on Lily's shoulder, the movement familiar but requiring more concentration than before.
"I can't fight," he said quietly, for her ears alone. "Not for a while."
She reached up, her fingertips brushing his surface gently. "You've done enough fighting for all of us combined."
As the last traces of the healing springs vanished, the chamber transformed. The natural rock formations smoothed into polished stone, and at the centre emerged the now-familiar raised platform with three archways standing in silent invitation.
Each arch bore its symbol, etched in lines that seemed to glow from within: the coiled snake of Body, the unblinking eye of Mind, the two-faced profile of Spirit.
"Well," Sam sighed, "I suppose it would be too much to ask for another five hours of rest."
Victor surveyed the others with a critical eye. "We're not at full strength. Not even close." His gaze lingered on AJ, then flicked to Ethan, and Walter's careful grip on his cane.
"Mind or Spirit," Walter suggested, tapping his cane thoughtfully against the stone floor. "Both would be less physically demanding."
Ethan nodded. "No fighting, for now."
"Mind," Lily decided, speaking for all of them. "We can handle puzzles better than... whatever a Spirit trial might throw at us right now."
No one disagreed as they moved towards the eye. The door opened, allowing them into its trial.
The door closed behind them, the chamber where they had rested disappearing from view. Ahead lay a corridor that curved gently out of sight, its walls inscribed with mathematical equations that shifted and changed when viewed from different angles.
The Mind trial had begun.
The corridor stretched before them, mathematical equations shimmered along the walls, shifting and reformulating with each change in perspective.
Sam's breath caught, his notebook was already in hand, pencil hovering above the page.
"Beautiful," he whispered. "There's the Pythagorean theorem and that's... that's Schrödinger's equation." He continued looking around, recognising various equations ranging from the very simple to the more complex.
The others glanced at him with expressions ranging from mild interest to complete incomprehension. Victor adjusted the makeshift bandage around his ribs and scowled.
"Fascinating. Now tell us how we get out of here."
The translucent edges of AJ's body rippled with mild curiosity.
"This is... going to be complicated," he managed. "We're relying on you Sam."
"More numbers, my head is already spinning." Ethan grunted.
The equations continued to shift as they advanced, rearranging themselves into increasingly complex formations.
At the end of the corridor, a vast circular chamber opened before them, its domed ceiling alive with mathematical symbols that swirled like a galaxy of numbers.
Three concentric rings of stone pedestals stood at the centre, each carved with a basin that held glowing blue liquid.
The symbols on the walls reflected in these pools, creating a three-dimensional projection of equations that floated and shifted with mesmerising complexity.
"Seems like..." Walter said, tapping his cane thoughtfully, "we're meant to solve these ones."
Sam stepped forward, "The equations change based on our perspective. See how they shift when we move?"
He circled one of the pedestals, watching the symbols rearrange themselves. "Each position gives a different view of the same problem."
For the next hour, they navigated the chamber with Sam directing their movements. They became living variables in a complex equation, positioning themselves to reveal solutions that would otherwise remain hidden.
AJ rested on Lily's shoulder, occasionally offering insights between periods of recuperative stillness.
"There," Sam finally announced, scribbling frantically in his notebook. "The final solution relies on all of us understanding our position relative to each other. It's... a metaphor, I suppose."
A chime resonated through the chamber. The equations froze, then dissolved into particles of light that rained down around them. A doorway materialised in the wall, leading them back to the main chamber.
"That wasn't so bad," Lily said, adjusting her bow.
"Don't jinx it," Victor muttered.
---
The 12th floor greeted them with unexpected warmth. Unlike the mathematical precision of the previous chamber, this room felt organic.
Vines covered the walls, punctuated by flowers that emitted a soft, golden glow. The air smelled of earth after rain and something sweetly unfamiliar.
At the centre stood a single glass pillar filled with swirling mist. Words formed in the vapour:
"One must walk alone while others bear witness. Choose your champion."
"Wonderful," Victor said dryly. "A volunteer request."
Walter leaned on his cane, studying the words. "Seems like they do the trial whilst the others sit back."
Ethan stepped forward. "I'll do it. I'm the strongest."
"No," AJ interjected from Lily's shoulder. "You're still recovering from the last fight. We need you at full strength for what's ahead."
Their eyes turned to Victor, who straightened his nonexistent tie.
"What?" he demanded.
"You're the least injured," Walter said.
"And you're good at working alone," Lily added.
Victor stared at them, then at the pillar. "Fine," he said finally. "But if I die, I expect some nice things to be said at whatever passes for a funeral around here."
He approached the pillar. The mist inside reached out like tendrils, enveloping his hand as he touched the glass.
In an instant, the floor beneath him separated, rising to form a circular platform that floated towards the ceiling.
The others found themselves enclosed in a transparent bubble that rose alongside him.
The ceiling opened, revealing a second chamber above. Victor's platform settled in its centre, whilst their bubble hovered at the periphery, giving them a nice view.
The chamber contained what appeared to be an elaborate business office. Sleek mahogany furniture, leather chairs, and walls lined with accolades. A corporate paradise. Victor's face hardened at the sight.
In the large meeting room he saw numerous figures looking in his direction, at the end of the table sat a familiar face—a perfect replica of Victor himself, but immaculate in an expensive suit, hair perfectly coiffed, expression coldly efficient.
"Welcome," the doppelgänger said. "The 3 o'clock meeting is starting."
Victor's hand moved to the papers without conscious thought. The gesture was automatic, ingrained by years of boardroom presentations.
His fingers traced familiar patterns across the documents—profit margins, growth projections, risk assessments. Numbers that had once defined his worth.
"The Henderson account is up 12%," he heard himself saying, the words emerging with practised smoothness. "Market penetration in the northeastern corridor has exceeded expectations by—"
The doppelgänger smiled, settling into the leather chair with satisfaction. "Excellent, and the Yamamoto merger?"
Victor's eyes scanned the next page, his mind automatically parsing complex financial data. "Regulatory approval pending, but preliminary estimates suggest a 300% return on initial investment within 18 months."
His voice carried the confident cadence of a presentation he'd given countless times. "The synergies alone should—"
And yet he paused, the words felt strangely foreign in his mouth, like speaking a language he'd once been fluent in but had since become rusty.
Around him, the office pulsed with familiar energy—the subtle hum of air conditioning, the soft glow of mood lighting, the expensive scent of leather and ambition.
"Continue," the doppelgänger urged, leaning forward. "The board is waiting."
Meanwhile on the outside the others looked on, unsure of what to feel about the current events.
"What's going on?" Lily asked in confusion.
"He's facing his past," Walter murmured.
"The life he lived before the wish event," Sam added.
Victor continued briefly his gaze glancing over the material before it fell to the bottom of the page, where a small notation caught his eye.
Personal time off requests: Denied. Family dinner: Cancelled. Anniversary: Missed.
The papers suddenly felt heavy in his hands.
"The quarterly projections—" he began, then stopped.
For just a moment, he saw something else—Lily's frightened face as the shadow beast loomed over her. AJ's diminished form in her cupped hands. Walter's quiet wisdom during their evening conversations.
"Problems with the presentation, Victor?" The doppelgänger's voice carried a note of mockery.
"Surely you haven't forgotten the fundamentals. Profit margins. Growth strategies. Everything that matters."
"No," Victor said quietly.
"Excuse me?"
Victor looked up from the papers, meeting his own eyes.
"I said no." He set the documents down deliberately against the mahogany surface. "I'm not doing this."
The doppelgänger's composure cracked slightly. "The board expects—"
"The board can wait." Victor pushed back his chair, the sound harsh in the artificial silence. "I've done enough."
The doppelgänger's perfect suit flickered, revealing something hollow underneath.
"You're nothing without this," it hissed, gesturing at the corporate paradise surrounding them. "Without the success, the recognition, the power—what are you?"
Victor was quiet for a long moment, his hand unconsciously reaching for the tie that was no longer there.
When he spoke, his voice carried a heavy sense of certainty and determination much to the surprise of his doppelgänger.
"I'm someone who shows up," he said simply. "I'm someone who doesn't abandon the people who matter when things get difficult."
He looked around the dissolving office with something that might have been pity. "I'm someone who's learning to be better than he was."
The doppelgänger recoiled as if struck. "Better? You think this rabble of survivors makes you better? You think playing protector to a group of—"
"They're my family," Victor interrupted, the words rang with honest conviction. "Something I never really understood before."
The office shuddered violently. Cracks appeared in the perfect walls, revealing darkness beyond. The doppelgänger's form began to blur, features becoming indistinct.
"You'll regret this," it whispered, voice echoing as if from a great distance. "When they abandon you and the loneliness comes back. When you remember what you had."
Victor watched his past self dissolve, feeling something like relief settle in his chest. "Maybe," he acknowledged.
"But the world has changed so much already that there's no other choice but for me to change along with it."
The last of the corporate illusion crumbled away, leaving him standing in the simple stone chamber.
Above, he could see his companions watching from their transparent bubble, their faces showing a mixture of approval and pride.
---
The 13th floor offered no visible threats—just a circular room with six meditation cushions arranged in a perfect circle.
The walls were bare stone, unadorned save for small crystals that emitted a soft, pulsing light.
"Alright what's this mind trial got to offer," Ethan said grumpily.
Words appeared on the floor in glowing script:
Sit. Be still. Answer what is asked of your heart.
"Meditation," Walter said with a nod. "The questioning of one's deepest self."
They settled onto the cushions, AJ taking the smallest one, Ethan the largest. The moment they were all seated, the crystals in the walls intensified their glow, bathing each person in a cone of gentle light.
In the silence that followed, they each experienced a voice—not audible, but resonating within their minds, asking a single question that pierced to the core of their being.
AJ: What remains when all that you are is taken away?
Sam: When knowledge fails to fill the emptiness, what will?
Walter: When the wisdom you've gathered is forgotten, what legacy truly endures?
Ethan: What will you become when the battles end and your shield is no longer needed?
Victor: When redemption feels impossible, what drives you to keep trying?
Lily: Is it worth finding your place even if it means abandoning who are you?
The minutes stretched into an hour. Ethan fidgeted constantly, his face filled with uncharacteristic concentration.
Victor sat still, sometimes calm, sometimes his muscles twitched. Lily's breathing became erratic several times, tears occasionally tracking down her cheeks.
Walter and Sam remained outwardly composed, though their expressions reflected deep contemplation.
AJ's form pulsed gently, seeming like he enjoyed the introspection.
When the crystals finally dimmed, releasing them from their meditation, no one spoke immediately. They rose silently, each carrying a new weight—or perhaps having set one down.