"There's no time to rest, is there?" he muttered, lowering his sword.
Ryn scratched his tangled hair, his face drenched in sweat. "Seriously… do these game developers hate the concept of a 'five-minute break'? I didn't even have time to check my status bar, let alone my inventory."
Orion didn't answer. His gaze coldly stared at the golden bridge. "This place wasn't designed to give us a break. Every step is meant to be a test. If we're careless, we die. It's that simple."
Lyra looked at the three of them. Her breathing was still unsteady, but her tone was firm. "Then let's continue. Standing here won't save us."
The four of them began walking. The golden path felt warm underfoot, as if a stream of energy was testing each step. To the left and right, only darkness churned. Occasionally, shards of light could be seen falling, like dying stars in the void.
"This place isn't an ordinary world," Lyra whispered. "Even my magic… feels suppressed."
"Not pressured," Orion added, "but harmonized. This system forces us to be in balance with the chosen path."
Ares didn't say much. He focused on the end of the bridge. The further they walked, the more intense the light became, until finally the path forked.
One path ascended, leading to a glowing, arched door. The light behind the door was steady, bright, as if offering reassurance.
The other path descended, shrouded in a thick white mist. There were no discernible shapes within, only a faint, hair-raising aura.
Silence enveloped them.
The system's voice echoed in the empty air:
[Path of Harmony Split. Choose one direction.]
[Rule: Four souls must agree.]
Ryn stared at the transparent screen that appeared before her, displaying two glowing options. She dropped her shoulders. "Oh, come on… this again? Voting?!"
Ares stepped closer to the ascending path. "Let's take the upper one. That's clearly the main path. If we waste time on the forks, we'll only get further from our goal."
Orion cut in immediately, his voice harsh. "No. The lower path is the one we must choose. That mist is no ordinary obstacle. It's a sign of a hidden test. You think the Key of Return—the artifact that can open the exit portal—would be placed on a path everyone can see?"
Ares turned quickly, staring at Orion. "And you think we can gamble with everyone's lives? We don't even know what's in that mist."
The tension suddenly felt heavy. The golden path trembled slightly, as if awaiting their decision.
Lyra took a half step forward, trying to mediate. "Calm down. We all have our reasons. But don't forget… this system always gives tests to evaluate teams. If we can't agree, we might fail, without even taking a step."
The system's voice rang out again:
[Decision time remaining: 2 minutes.]
Ryn's jaw dropped. "SERIOUSLY?! There's a countdown?!" She looked around, panicked. "Okay, I hate quick decisions. Don't make me the final decision, okay?!"
Ares raised his hand, pointing at the upper path. "Up. That's the safest way."
Orion snorted. "And that means you chose the obvious one. The system never puts the grand prize in plain sight."
[90 seconds left.]
Lyra looked at them both in turn. Her heart wavered, but her gaze fell on the lower path. The white mist churned as if alive. In her instincts, there was something there—not just a test, but an answer.
"I choose down," Lyra finally said. Her voice was firm, though her hands were shaking.
Ares turned quickly. "Lyra, you're not serious, are you?"
"I'm serious this time," he replied. "I think… if we're going to find a way out, we're going to have to take a risk."
[60 seconds left.]
Ryn clutched her hair. "Oh, great. So it's 2 against 1 now? I get to decide, right? This is like a survival reality show, but scarier!"
Orion glared at Ryn. "If you're in doubt, listen carefully. The path below may be difficult, but that's where the real key lies. You know I'm not just talking nonsense."
Ares pressed on. "And if I make a mistake, we could all die. Your choice will bind us all, Ryn. Think carefully."
[30 seconds left.]
Ryn groaned, her knees weakening. "Why should I…"
Lyra looked at her gently. "Ryn. You're part of this team. Your choice matters. Don't be afraid of making mistakes—the important thing is that we walk together."
[20 seconds left.]
Ryn took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. In her mind, she imagined the faces of other players who might be trapped in this world, waiting for someone to find a way out.
When she opened her eyes, her expression changed. "Okay. We choose the path below. And if it turns out to be hell… well, we'll face it together."
[10 seconds left.]
Ares closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded heavily. "Okay. I'll go. The path below, then."
[Final decision: The lower path is chosen.]
The white mist in the lower path swirled rapidly, opening like a giant mouth. The golden path shook violently, forcing them to step inside. At the same time, the upper path collapsed into shards of light, disappearing into the void.
Four pairs of feet stepped simultaneously into the misty passage. The air was cold, piercing to the bone, as if thousands of faint whispers were slipping into their ears.
Lyra pulled her cloak closer. "Let's hope we don't make the wrong choice…"
Ares stared ahead, his eyes full of determination. "Even if it's wrong, we will force this path to be right."
The first step into the mist felt like stepping into endless, cold water. The golden path behind them vanished instantly, as if swallowed by empty space. There was no longer any guiding light—only a moving, shimmering white, like a living creature.
"Nearby! Don't get separated!" Ares slashed through the air, the light of his sword trying to mark the way. But the light faded instantly, swallowed by the mist.
Ryn stumbled, then looked up in panic. "Wait… why am I alone?!"
She glanced right, left—Ares, Orion, Lyra, all of them had disappeared. The mist formed the shadows of other people. Her schoolmates. They stared at her, laughing loudly. "You loser. Even in the game world, you fail."
Ryn screamed, covering her ears, her body trembling.
On the other side, Lyra walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the woman who appeared before her: her mother, smiling gently, opening her arms as if to embrace her. "Go home, Lyra. You don't have to struggle."
Lyra's tears fell without her realizing it. Mother…? No… this is fake… But his body took a step forward, almost reaching the figure.
Meanwhile, Orion stood rigid. The mist condensed into a shadow of himself, standing with a contemptuous gaze. "You're nothing without ambition. You're just a loser hiding behind a sword." The shadow drew an identical sword and struck without hesitation.
A metallic clang echoed as Orion parried his own slash. "Don't you dare speak as if you know me!" he shouted.
And Ares… he saw his father. Not in a whisper, but in reality, walking out of the mist with eyes full of disappointment. "You think with this toy sword, you can atone for your mistakes? You're still the same—a failure who brings ruin to others."
Ares's blood boiled. "You… are not my father." But his sword trembled in his hand.
The mist pulsed, thickening. From all the hallucinations, the fake bodies coalesced in the center of the hallway, forming a giant, three-meter-tall figure. Its body was composed of fragments of shadow, the faces of people they knew clinging to and disappearing from its surface.
Two glowing red eyes. Its breath was the mist itself.
[Guardian of the Mist appears.]
Ryn crawled back, her face pale. "Don't tell me… that monster is formed from our fears?!"
Ares drew his sword, trying to calm his breathing. "That's exactly it. The more we falter, the stronger it becomes."
The creature roared, and the sounds it emitted were a mix—Ares's father's voice, Ryn's friend's laughter, Lyra's mother's singing, and Orion's shadowy taunts. Their ears rang, their hearts trembled.
Lyra shouted, raising her staff. "We'll destroy him before he destroys us!"
Orion leaped forward, his sword blazing. "This time we can't lose to ourselves!"
Ares advanced, his eyes blazing. "Formation! Together!"
The mist swirled, and the Guardian raised its giant hand. Their battle in the mist—a battle against their own fears—had just begun.