The cave was cool in temperature, sealed away from the outside world as though time itself had been denied entry. The air inside was still—too still. Even the faint jungle sounds that had followed us through the trees seemed to hesitate at the threshold and retreat.
Light filtered in faintly from behind us, but it didn't travel far. The deeper parts of the cave were dim, brushed with a muted glow that didn't seem to come from any visible source.
Lexi was watching my every move.
Not casually. Not with her usual dramatic boredom.
Intently.
Her eyes tracked me with a precision that made my skin tighten. And something in her presence felt different—subtly detached, as though the person I knew was standing slightly behind her own reflection.
I glanced at Robert.
Something felt off there too.
"Robert," Lexi said quietly, her voice low and edged with something sharp, "she must know nothing. Stop her. Or I'll do it."
His nod was almost invisible.
Too smooth. Too practiced.
A fracture formed in my chest—not panic, not fear. Just awareness.
I turned away from them both and faced deeper into the cave.
And that's when I saw it.
Suspended above a smooth stone pedestal was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
A crystalline structure hovered there, turning slowly in place. It wasn't blinding or dramatic. It didn't scream power.
It pulsed.
Softly.
Like captured breath. Like dawn held in stillness.
Light moved within it in quiet currents, folding inward and unfolding again. It felt ancient—but not aggressive. Not hostile.
Familiar.
"Do you see that?" I whispered, almost to myself.
Lexi laughed.
The sound didn't belong in this space.
Low. Slightly distorted.
"You think this will go as planned?" she said. "Give us that object now."
The air shifted around us.
I turned slowly toward Robert.
"Robert… what are you doing?" My voice was steady, but my heart felt hollow. "I thought you loved me. And now this?"
He smiled.
But it wasn't his smile.
It lacked warmth. Lacked history.
"Robert is still in the U.S.," he said calmly. "You're here alone. I was a stand-in."
The words landed without explosion.
The plane crash. The survival. The jungle.
Manufactured.
I didn't scream. I didn't break.
I stepped backward—closer to the crystal.
"You're lying," I said quietly.
But already I was recalculating everything.
Lexi moved first.
Her body didn't contort grotesquely. It didn't twist violently. It simply… shifted. Her posture elongated unnaturally. Her movements became too fluid. The air around her bent slightly, like heat over stone.
She wasn't Lexi.
Not anymore.
I ran deeper into the chamber.
Not in panic.
In refusal.
The hunger stirred inside me—not violently, not uncontrollably. Just present. A reminder of what I was capable of.
Release me.
No.
If I unleashed my inner beast now, I could overpower them.
But I might not return.
And I would not lose myself in a place like this.
The crystal pulsed brighter.
Not reacting to them.
To me.
It drifted slowly from its pedestal, hovering toward me as though guided by an unseen current.
The false Robert watched with narrowed eyes.
"That's enough," he said sharply.
The crystal ignored him.
It touched my chest—
And dissolved.
No pain.
No surge of violent energy.
No screaming voice demanding control.
It flowed through me like light through water, like something slipping back into its rightful place. It didn't invade.
It aligned.
The cave inhaled.
Then went silent.
The subtle hum beneath the stone stopped completely. The faint glow in the walls dimmed to almost nothing.
I stood there.
Whole.
My pulse steady.
The hunger did not spike. My mind did not fracture.
The power did not overwhelm me.
It settled.
Balanced.
Across the chamber, the stand-in's composure faltered.
"That's not possible," he murmured.
Behind me, footsteps.
Real footsteps.
"Selene."
The voice struck something deep inside me.
I turned.
Robert.
The real one.
Injured. Breathing hard. Dirt streaked across his clothes. Very real.
The beast inside me surged instantly, ready to tear apart everything that had touched him—
His hand caught my wrist gently.
"Don't," he said.
His eyes were clear. Focused. Him.
The tension inside me shifted—not collapsing, but redirecting.
Tears formed before I could stop them.
Not weakness.
Relief.
"You're here," I whispered.
He nodded once.
I closed the distance between us and kissed him.
Not desperate. Not frantic.
Certain.
The moment our lips met, something moved between us.
Energy flowed—not stolen, not forced. Shared.
His injuries sealed beneath my hands. Bruises faded. Cuts closed. The tension in his body unwound and then rebuilt—stronger than before.
He pulled back slowly, examining his hands as strength coursed through him.
Not wild strength.
Refined.
Amplified.
Grounded.
The stand-in watched carefully now.
"That wasn't part of the design," he said.
Robert stepped slightly ahead of me.
Not shielding.
Positioning.
"I'll deal with them," he said quietly. "Just wait."
There was no arrogance in his voice.
Only certainty.
The false Lexi's form flickered at the edges now, instability rippling through her disguise.
"You were meant to break," the stand-in said, his eyes returning to me.
I met his gaze evenly.
"I don't break."
The cave responded—not loudly, not dramatically.
Just a soft, approving hum beneath the stone.
For a long moment, none of us moved.
The deception had failed.
The crystal had chosen.
Whatever this place had been designed to do—
It had already done it.
And I remained myself.
The hunger quiet. The power steady. The balance intact.
The stand-in's eyes darkened with calculation.
But something in his posture shifted.
Not victory.
Not control.
Uncertainty.
And deep within the cave—far beneath the visible stone—something ancient seemed to settle again into stillness.
Not disappointed.
Not angry.
Simply aware.
The test was over.
And I had not broken.