The air was different here. Not stale like the labyrinth, not cold like the river. It was heavy, perfumed with a sweetness that made Isabella's pulse race. She stepped forward, boots echoing against smooth obsidian tiles, the walls glimmering as if molten light swirled beneath their surface.
The chamber was circular, vast, and unnervingly quiet. At the centre stood a pedestal, carved from transparent crystal, glowing faintly as if a heart pulsed inside it.
Her wristband flickered alive. "Caution, Isabella. You've entered the Chamber of Desire. This trial can manipulate your subconscious. Stay alert."
She swallowed. Desire. That's the whole point of manifestation, isn't it? Wanting something so badly the universe bends to meet you. Still, she knew enough about these trials to expect danger cloaked in beauty.
As she approached, the pedestal shimmered, and suddenly the chamber filled with images. Floating visions—her children laughing in the sun, her old home back in Malaysia, the version of herself she longed to be: confident, adored, radiant.
The visions shifted. A beachside villa. A best-selling book in her hands with her name printed in bold on the cover. A man, his features hazy but familiar, reached for her hand.
Her breath caught. This is everything I've written, whispered, begged the universe for. It's here…
But then, a voice, smooth and honeyed, wrapped around her ears:
"Take it. Just claim it. Why wait for the universe when you can have it all now?"
The pedestal's glow flared. A golden key materialized, hovering just inches from her.
She hesitated. Every fiber of her wanted to snatch it. But another voice rose inside—her own, the one she used when coaching herself through tough days: If it feels too easy, it's a trap. Real manifestation is alignment, not greed.
The chamber trembled, walls bending like liquid. The images twisted grotesquely. The beachside villa cracked under storms. The book turned to ash. The man's face blurred into shadow.
Her wristband pulsed red: "Warning. Illusion sequence activated."
She clenched her fists, grounding herself. "Alright, universe," she whispered in her Aussie twang, a half-grin tugging her lips despite the fear. "You wanna play games with me? I've played harder ones back home."
She closed her eyes, blocking out the illusions, and remembered what she'd practised a hundred times: breathe, focus, declare.
"I desire joy that lasts. I desire purpose, not just prizes. I desire love that's real, not shadows."
The key trembled. The illusions cracked further, fragments falling away like broken glass.
A final test came. The voice hissed: "If you reject this gift, you may walk away with nothing. Forever."
Her heart thumped. Fear gnawed at her belly, but she straightened, voice firm: "Then nothing is better than a lie."
The chamber went silent. The pedestal shattered, exploding into a spray of golden dust. The fragments swirled, then re-formed into a small orb of light, pure and steady.
The orb hovered into her palms. Warmth seeped into her skin, deeper than flesh, into her bones, her heart. Her wristband scanned it: "Artifact acquired: Seed of True Desire. This essence will amplify authentic intentions."
She exhaled shakily, a grin breaking across her face. "Bloody hell, that was intense."
The chamber doors slid open, revealing a corridor pulsing with pale light. She tightened her pack straps, cradled the orb close, and stepped forward. Another trial survived. Another lesson learned: that desire without truth is just hunger, but desire aligned with soul? That's power.