The sun of Isibindi dawned like a code reboot, warm light flooding the temple and scattering into green fractals through the canopy.
Tray stood before the Lion King's council, the hum of the jungle outside syncing with his own heartbeat. Lyra stood to his right, her armor polished to a mirror shine, every movement precise, disciplined.
King Raen's voice resonated through the hall.
> "Shadow of a fallen grid — you've proven skill. But courage must be forged, not claimed. Today you face the Trial of the Lion. Pass it, and you earn our trust. Fail… and the jungle reclaims you."
Tray nodded, pulse steady. "Let's see what this trial's got."
Lyra's eyes flicked toward him — sharp, concerned, but hiding something deeper.
> "The Trial isn't about combat alone," she said quietly. "It tests your spirit. The jungle reads fear."
Tray smirked. "Then I'll keep my code clean."
They entered the trial ground — a vast circle surrounded by luminous vines and statues of ancient lion warriors. The air buzzed with data particles like fireflies.
A guardian AI, shaped as a spectral lion, emerged from the ground. Its voice rumbled through their bones.
> "COURAGE IS BALANCE BETWEEN HEART AND MIND. FACE YOURSELF, SHADOW."
The world warped. The arena dissolved into black glass.
Tray looked around — alone. Even Lyra's light had vanished.
Then he saw it.
Another him — a dark reflection, armor cracked, eyes burning red with Rift corruption.
> "You couldn't save them," the reflection hissed. "Your clan. Your master. You failed."
Tray clenched his fists. "You're not real."
> "Oh, I'm real enough to know you're terrified of being forgotten."
They clashed — blade against blade, the same style, the same rage. Sparks flew as their movements blurred into streaks of violet.
Every swing from the shadow felt heavier, feeding on Tray's hesitation.
"Stop running!" the reflection shouted. "Stop pretending courage means not caring!"
Tray fell to one knee, vision shaking. He could hear his master's voice echo in his head — "Courage is not the absence of fear…"
He closed his eyes. "…it's the will to act despite it."
When he opened them, his armor glowed brighter, threads of green energy weaving through violet light. He stood, calm and certain.
> "You're right. I was scared. But fear's part of the code. It means I still have something to fight for."
He sliced through the reflection in one smooth arc — light scattering into dust.
The illusion shattered.
He was back in the arena, kneeling in the center. The spectral lion bowed its head.
> "TRIAL COMPLETE. COURAGE RECOGNIZED."
Lyra rushed to him, breathless, relief flashing through her composure.
> "You did it," she whispered.
Tray gave a small grin. "Was there ever a doubt?"
Her lips curved faintly. "Plenty."
The king descended the steps, placing his massive gauntlet on Tray's shoulder.
> "You carry fear not as weakness but as strength. The Lion's code recognizes you, Tray of Shadow. From this day forward, you stand as an ally of Isibindi."
The council roared in approval. Lyra, though disciplined, couldn't hide the quiet pride in her eyes.
But outside the temple, thunder rippled through the Grid — red lightning crawling across the horizon.
Tray looked toward it, jaw tight. "The Rift's not done."
Lyra nodded. "Then neither are we."
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