The obsidian gateway pulsed with a dull, otherworldly rhythm, like the heartbeat of something ancient and hungry. Its sheer size dwarfed them, stretching high into the shadowy heavens, the edges lined with jagged runes that writhed and shifted as if alive.
Carlos hesitated. Every instinct screamed not to step through. But the Helm's whisper urged him forward."The path is before you. Fear is the lock; courage the key."
He turned to the others. "We go together."
They clasped hands briefly—Thalor's gauntleted grip firm on Carlos's arm, Rina's dagger tapping once against her boot, Lys offering a steady nod, and Maren's trembling hand clutching her staff. Then, without another word, they stepped into the black.
The Arrival
The sensation was nothing like falling, nor like walking. It was as if the world folded in on itself, turning them inside out before spitting them into a place that was wrong.
The city stretched before them, impossibly vast. Towers spiraled into crooked angles that defied geometry. Streets twisted back on themselves like snakes devouring their tails. Bridges led nowhere, stairs ended in sheer drops. Windows blinked like eyes, watching them from walls that seemed to breathe.
A sky of fractured glass hung above, reflecting countless versions of the city—some inverted, some broken, some burning with phantom fire.
"This…" Lys whispered, her voice quivering, "isn't natural."
"It's a labyrinth," Rina muttered, eyes narrowing. "A city built to trap."
Thalor raised his shield warily. "Then we move carefully. And together."
The First Paths
They entered the streets, boots echoing on cobblestones that shifted underfoot. Each corner split into three or four more, each alleyway branching into countless options. Within minutes, the path behind them was gone, swallowed by the city's endless reshaping.
"It's alive," Maren said quietly. "The city itself… it's watching us."
She was right. They could feel it. The walls leaned closer, the streets rearranging with every blink. A building that had been to their left was suddenly behind them.
Carlos gripped the Blade of Ascension tightly. "Stay focused. Landmarks. We pick something tall and head toward it."
But every spire they chose slid away, reappearing somewhere else.
The Illusions
Then the city began to whisper.
Not voices of malice this time, but of familiarity.
Carlos heard his mother's laughter, faint and warm, drifting from a window. He froze, staring up at a glowing doorway.
Rina caught it first. She grabbed his wrist. "Don't. It's a trick."
Elsewhere, Lys gasped. Down one alley, she swore she saw her sister standing, beckoning. The girl's eyes glistened with tears.
"Come back to me," the vision begged.
Lys's bow trembled in her hands. "She looks real…"
Maren heard a different lure: chanting voices calling her name, promising fire without consequence, power without restraint. Her staff burned faintly in her grip, answering the call.
Even Thalor faltered when he heard the voices of his fallen brothers from a nearby square, their laughter filling the air.
The city knew their wounds—and bled them.
The Choice
At the heart of the labyrinth, they reached a plaza. Five paths spiraled outward, each leading in a different direction. Above, the fractured sky reflected them—five broken versions of themselves, each stepping down a different path.
Carlos's head throbbed. "It wants to separate us."
The Helm's voice whispered faintly:"Only the path chosen together leads forward. One choice. One will. One heart."
They stood frozen. Each path seemed tailored to one of them:
- A path of fire for Maren.
- A path of endless shadows for Rina.
- A shining road of gold for Thalor.
- A wooded trail for Lys.
And for Carlos, a familiar stone street from his own world, leading home.
His chest ached. He could almost smell the food from his childhood kitchen, hear his parents talking softly.
He wanted to walk it. Desperately.
But when he looked at the others, he saw the same longing in their eyes.
The Decision
Thalor planted his shield in the ground with a heavy clang. "We choose together," he said, voice iron. "Not one leaves the others."
Rina's eyes flicked over the paths, then to Carlos. "So which way, leader?"
Carlos exhaled, heart pounding. He forced himself to tear his gaze from the street that called to him.
"The center," he said finally, pointing to the blackened cobblestones between the five paths. It wasn't a path at all, but a blank space, cracked and uneven. "If these are traps, then we take the road it doesn't show us."
The others hesitated—but one by one, they nodded.
And together, they stepped into the unmarked path.
The City Shifts
The labyrinth screamed. The towers shook, the sky fractured further, shards of reality raining down like falling stars. Streets bent and collapsed into nothing. The illusions of family, power, and glory flickered, then shattered.
The city howled as though wounded.
But beneath their feet, the cracked stones solidified, forming a road straight through the chaos.
At the end of the road stood a colossal archway of mirrored glass, its surface rippling like water. Within its reflection, Carlos saw them—not broken, not divided, but united.
The Helm whispered:"You chose one another. Now face the truth of what binds you."
And with that, the mirrored arch began to open.