The crimson glass fades like it was never solid to begin with.
The dark veins inside the walls stop pulsing first. Then the red thins. Then the world opens back up.
Sand replaces glass.
Wind replaces suffocation.
The ocean rolls beside us like it didn't just drag memories out of our throats.
The portal flickers in the distance.
And for a few seconds, none of us move.
I expect someone to joke.
Camron usually does.
He doesn't.
We start walking toward the portal without saying it out loud.
The sand feels colder now. Or maybe that's just me.
The hum from the portal is low — constant — like a vibration sitting behind my ribs.
I don't look at the water.
I notice Jordan doesn't either.
Camron clears his throat first.
"My dad was there."
He says it like he's mentioning the weather.
Not looking at any of us.
"My fear."
The wind lifts sand across our boots.
"He wasn't yelling," Camron continues. "That's the part that messed with me. He was calm."
His jaw tightens.
"And I couldn't move."
Lightning flickers faintly across his staff — then vanishes.
"I tried to swing. Tried to use my power. Nothing happened. I just stood there."
His voice dips slightly. Not weak. Just quieter.
"He'd step toward me, and I'd flinch."
There it is.
The thing he never talks about.
I've seen him do it before. When someone moves too fast. When something loud goes off unexpectedly.
I never asked.
"I hate that," he mutters. "I hate that I still freeze."
The ocean crashes harder for a second.
Jordan's hand tightens around her kunai.
She doesn't look at him.
"My mom was in mine," she says.
Her voice is steady.
Too steady.
"The boat."
I feel something tighten in my chest.
The wind picks up, pushing her hair across her face. She doesn't move it.
"It was the same day," she continues. "The sky was gray. The water was calm."
She swallows.
"I was screaming at her to turn back."
The portal flickers ahead of us.
"But she didn't hear me."
Her grip tightens enough that her knuckles go pale.
"The water kept rising. And I couldn't reach her."
The waves crash again behind us.
"I couldn't breathe."
Her voice almost breaks there.
Almost.
"I don't like water," she says finally. "Not because I can't fight in it. Because I can't control it."
Silence stretches.
Maya's breathing grows slower.
Measured.
"In mine," she says quietly, "I was playing."
We all look at her.
"Piano."
Her fingers flex slightly at her sides.
"I was younger. My mom was standing behind me. Watching."
Her voice isn't angry.
It's tired.
"I missed one note."
She lets out a small breath.
"And she started over. From the beginning."
The sand shifts under our steps.
"Over and over and over," Maya says. "Until my fingers bled."
Her jaw tightens faintly.
"She said perfection is discipline."
A pause.
"I hate playing the piano."
That one hits differently.
Not violent.
Not loud.
Just heavy.
The kind of fear that builds slowly over years.
They all look at me.
Of course they do.
I knew this was coming.
My throat tightens.
The portal hum deepens.
"My dragon was in mine," I say.
The words feel strange out loud.
"It wasn't attacking anyone."
I exhale slowly.
"It was me."
The wind dies for half a second.
"I lost control."
I can still see it.
The fire.
The destruction.
Their faces.
"I tried to stop it," I continue. "I tried to pull it back. It wouldn't listen."
My hand tightens around my sword.
"I saw you guys."
That's the part that sticks.
"You were calling my name."
The words start to press heavier in my chest.
"I couldn't hear you over it."
Over the roar.
Over the fire.
Over the power.
"I think that's why I hesitate," I admit.
There it is.
The truth.
"I'm scared if I let it all out, I won't be able to pull it back in."
The sand drags under my boots.
"And if I lose control…" My voice lowers slightly. "It'll be my fault."
No one interrupts.
No one says I'm being dramatic.
"I don't think I'm scared of dying," I add quietly. "I think I'm scared I'll be the reason you do."
The wind moves again.
The portal flickers violently for a moment, reacting to something — or maybe just existing.
Camron walks a little closer to my right.
Jordan moves slightly to my left.
Maya just behind us.
Camron finally speaks.
"You didn't freeze back there."
I glance at him.
"You didn't either," I reply.
He shrugs slightly. "Still hate that I can."
Jordan's voice is quieter now.
"You didn't lose control in the maze."
"I know," I say.
That's what makes it worse.
Because that means it's still possible.
Maya steps forward slightly so we're aligned.
"We're not our worst moments," she says softly.
I want to believe that.
The portal is maybe ten yards away now.
The air around it bends.
The hum vibrates in my chest.
Four teenagers walking toward something bigger than us.
Carrying fathers.
Carrying mothers.
Carrying expectations.
Carrying guilt.
I look at them.
At the way Camron still stands tall even after admitting he flinches.
At the way Jordan walks beside the ocean even though she hates it.
At the way Maya keeps moving forward even though she spent her childhood trying to be perfect.
And I realize something.
We're all scared of losing control.
Just in different ways.
The portal pulses.
I step forward.
Not because I'm fearless.
Because I don't want my fear deciding things anymore.
"We stay close," I say.
Simple.
Real.
They nod.
And this time
When we move toward the portal
I don't feel alone in what I'm carrying.