The darkness didn't move.
I could feel my pulse echoing in my ears but there was no sound or scent. It was like standing in a painting made of nothingness.
It gave me a realization that no matter how much you flail or fight, if the world belongs to someone else, you don't get to leave unless they let you. That was what he was showing us when he first revealed the Void Dome to everyone earlier. He hadn't been flaunting his power. He was warning us.
Back then, I'd seen the shock on the other servants' faces as the entire courtyard was swallowed in black, and we'd all felt the weight of it, like standing in front of a storm that could erase you with a thought. Now, in this version of it, I understood what he'd meant.
This wasn't about brute strength or resistance. It was about comprehension. The only ones who would ever walk out of this dome alive in a real fight were those who knew when not to move. Because you can't beat something like this. At least, not yet, anyway.
So... I stayed still. I took a slow breath, or maybe I imagined I did, since I couldn't even feel air, and started counting in my head.
Every second was heavier than the last.
I couldn't tell if time was even real in here. I couldn't see my body anymore. I could barely tell if my feet were touching ground. I thought about Phasnovterich standing outside the Dome, probably with that unreadable look on his face, watching to see who would panic and who'd think. That's what he was testing for, wasn't it?
The fear started to bite at the edges of my thoughts when I reached ten seconds, whispering that maybe I'd lost count, maybe I'd missed the cue, maybe I'd just stand here forever in this endless night, but I pushed it away. Even if I was wrong, even if I failed, I wasn't going to move.
"Time's up."
His voice cut through the void like sunlight breaking through clouds. I blinked and suddenly, I was back in the courtyard. The light stabbed at my eyes. My knees almost gave out not from fatigue, but from the sudden shift. The floor felt so real that I almost cried.
I looked around and saw the others, some crouched low, some disoriented, some with tears on their cheeks. Phasnovterich stood a few meters away, phone in hand again, as calm as if nothing had happened.
He didn't say anything at first. He just started walking toward us slowly, scanning our faces. He began pointing at our foreheads. Every time his finger hovered near someone's head, my heart skipped.
When it stopped in front of me, I froze.
His gaze lingered for just a second longer than the others, and then he nodded once and pointed at my forehead too. When he finished, he stepped back and said:
"Only twenty of you passed. They're the ones I pointed."
The courtyard went quiet.
Some of the girls looked around, confused. Others stared down at their hands, like maybe they had done something wrong.
But I understood immediately. Anyone who had been paying attention when he first demonstrated it to the servants knew here was no leaving it. Not unless you were stronger than him. Which meant the ones who tried to move and struggle to find an exit, failed. Because in trying to run, they showed they hadn't learned the first rule of survival in the presence of someone like him: Know when you're already dead.
The twenty who stayed still realized that the only way to "escape" was to accept that we couldn't. And that right there that was what made us fit for his little faction. It hit me then, how genius this test was.
Being part of his subordinates didn't mean who can swing a blade faster or who can kill without guilt. It's about who can read the room, adapt and stand perfectly still in chaos and see the truth for what it is. He just weeded out those who thought power meant movement. I took a shaky breath. My hands were trembling, but I hid them behind my skirt. Relief washed through me.
"The third test is actually easier than the other two."
Yeah, sure. Easy. Every nerve in my body screamed don't believe him, but I kept my face calm.
"All you have to do is answer a question."
That drew a ripple of confused murmurs from the group, but he raised a hand and the sound died instantly.
"The others who failed may leave," he added, his tone returning to that quiet, commanding neutrality.
As the failed ones exited, I stood there in silence, my mind still trying to piece everything together. He'd tested our pain tolerance, then our perception.
Now, he was going to test our minds and for some reason, that part scared me the most. That felt like a trap that decided whether you got to walk away with a future or disappeared from his story altogether. Still, I wasn't going to back down. Not after making it this far.
Phasnovterich Argemenes sat upon that throne-like chair again, leaning forward just slightly, his crimson braid sliding over his shoulder.
"I'll ask a question. You'll raise your hand if your answer is yes. Only the first correct answer will pass. And I have many questions so all of you will have turn if you don't raise your answer first."
The way he said many made my stomach twist. I'd been in enough classrooms to know what that tone meant. He wasn't testing obedience or loyalty. He was testing thinking. He looked up at the sky for a brief moment, like he was asking it for permission to proceed. Then his eyes returned to us.
"If you were trapped alone in a cave with a giant beast deeper within, would you..."
He paused for effect. I swallowed.
"A - fight the beast, even if it takes days and likely ends in your death? Or B - spend days clearing the rocks blocking the entrance while hiding from it?"
A faint murmur rippled through the group. I could feel everyone's minds starting to spin, scrambling for the answer that sounded right. But that's the thing about Phasnovterich Argemenes. Nothing was ever what it sounded like.
I'd seen it in his void and the rose. In his eyes that looked like they'd already dissected you before you spoke. I just let the question sink.
Fight the beast or clear the rocks.
It sounded like survival, right? But survival was too shallow for him. This wasn't about instinct. It was about comprehension and strategy. If I fought the beast... sure, maybe I'd win. Maybe.
But, I still have to dig through those rocks. It could take days, weeks even, depending how injured I am after fighting that beast. And I'd be wounded, drained and barely holding on.
If I chose to clear the rocks while hiding, the beast would feel it. I'd be cornered, trapped between the world's cruelty and my own hesitation. Neither plan promised life. Both promised exhaustion. Both promised eventual death.
So... no. Neither was right.
The real question wasn't "Which choice will help you survive?" It was "Why are you still trapped in the cave?"
Phasnovterich wasn't asking about the beast or the rocks. He was asking about me. He was asking about what kind of person who lets herself be trapped by two false options. He was asking if I was capable of rewriting the scenario entirely.
The others were still thinking out loud. I could hear whispers already.
"I'd fight, I think."
"No, you'd die. You clear the rocks."
"He said the beast was deep, maybe it won't find you-"
I didn't even realize my hand was rising until it already had.
He saw it. His gaze found mine instantly, like he'd been waiting for it.
"You must be Rielinne, daughter of the Head Maid, right? You have an answer already?"
My heart was pounding, but I forced myself to nod.
"Yes, Young Master."
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Then tell me, what do you do?"
I took a slow breath. Everyone was staring now. I could feel their eyes like weight pressing against my skin.
"Neither A nor B."
A quiet gasp broke the silence. I saw heads turn. He didn't react. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just a little.
"Then what is your answer, Rielinne?"
And that's when I smiled because I knew I was right. I could feel that familiar burn of certainty crawling up my chest.
"The answer is C," I said softly.
"C? And what is that?"
"I would use the beast to shatter the rocks."