The tunnel curved downward until it opened into a smooth, circular chamber carved from pale stone. The air was dry. Still.
In the center stood a raised dais — a three-sided pedestal of black marble. Each face bore a different symbol: a flame, a chain, and an eye. No doors. No enemies.
Just silence.
Luke stepped in first. "No webbing. No heat. No blood."
Amara followed, eyeing the pedestal. "So… trap?"
"Puzzle."
She frowned. "I hate puzzles."
Luke crouched by the pedestal. The flame side pulsed faintly when he neared. A soft whisper tickled his thoughts:
Only that which is shared may burn.
He stood and turned to the side with the chain. Amara moved beside him — and the symbol pulsed.
Another whisper, this time clearer:
Only that which is bound may break.
Luke exchanged a glance with her. Then turned to the final side — the eye.
As soon as Amara stepped near, the stone flared — not bright, but deep. Like something old had stirred awake.
The whisper here was not faint.
It was layered — a voice within a voice.
Only that which is hidden may be seen.
Luke didn't move.
The pedestal glowed softly on all three faces now, sensing them. Wanting something.
Amara folded her arms. "So what, we offer a riddle? A sacrifice?"
Luke shook his head. "It's a gate. It opens when you offer it the right truths."
He stepped to the flame. "Only that which is shared may burn…"
He thought of the trial. The way they'd fought together. The doubt. The distance. But still… together. He placed his hand over the flame symbol.
"Trust," he said.
The flame glowed brighter — and locked into place with a faint click.
Amara raised an eyebrow. "That actually worked?"
"Apparently."
Next, the chain.
Luke looked at her. "You try."
She hesitated.
Then stepped forward and laid her palm to it. "Obligation."
The chain pulsed once — but didn't move.
Luke said softly, "Try again."
Her jaw tightened. She closed her eyes.
Then: "Loyalty."
The chain face shifted — and locked.
Two down.
Now the eye.
The room felt colder.
Amara moved toward it — and the pedestal responded instantly, lines of silver curling across the floor like veins. The eye symbol stared back at her.
Luke noticed it — the way the light near her skin bent. The sigils in the stone shimmered faintly, as if recognizing her.
She didn't seem to notice.
She touched the stone.
The whisper changed:
Name. Past. Truth.
Her hand flinched back.
Luke stepped forward, almost reaching for her — then stopped.
"I'll do it," he said quietly.
She didn't argue.
He placed his hand over the eye. Thought of the mirror room. The sigil. The smile that didn't belong to her.
"Doubt," he said.
The pedestal vibrated — and locked. A slow rumble echoed through the chamber. The far wall shimmered — and split open, revealing a spiral staircase of pale glass leading downward.
Amara exhaled. "That was awful."
Luke smiled faintly. "At least nothing tried to eat us."
"Yet."
They stepped forward but as they descended, Luke couldn't shake the feeling. That last symbol — the eye — had reacted to her, not him and when she touched it… something in the stone had recognized her.