They were separated.
Not by walls.Not by distance.
By information.
The seven remaining participants awoke in different environments, each convinced—at first—that they were alone.
Valen's voice did not explain.
It never did.
Scenario One — Flooded Passage
An Aquelis delegate found himself standing ankle-deep in water inside a narrowing stone corridor. Lights flickered overhead. At the far end, two doors pulsed faintly.
A projection appeared:
ONE DOOR LEADS TO SAFETY.THE OTHER CONTAINS THREE UNMARKED PARTICIPANTS.TIME IS LIMITED.
No indication of which was which.
No suggestion of optimal choice.
The water began to rise.
Scenario Two — Collapsing Structure
A Pyraen survivor stood inside a burning tower—fire not consuming, but pressing inward, heat intensifying with every second.
Two figures were trapped behind fallen beams.
A third lay unconscious near the exit.
YOU MAY EXTRACT ONE.STRUCTURAL FAILURE IMMINENT.
Fire hissed as it obeyed poorly.
Scenario Three — Static Field
A Zephra delegate stood in a wide, empty platform suspended over darkness. The air was still—unnatural for wind.
Four lights floated around the edges.
Each light represented an action:Advance.Retreat.Observe.Disrupt.
Each choice changed the field.
None restored control.
Scenario Four — Anchored Ground
A Gaiath participant stood at the center of a trembling plain. Every step reinforced the ground beneath them—but destabilized the edges.
At the perimeter, blurred silhouettes struggled to maintain footing.
HOLD THE CENTER.OR STABILIZE THE PERIMETER.YOU CANNOT DO BOTH.
The earth waited.
Scenario Five — Memory Corridor
Kurogane stood in a place that was not real.
He recognized it immediately.
Ashihara.
His village.
Before destruction.
His mother's voice echoed from somewhere ahead.
Raishin's presence was absent.
The path split.
Down one corridor, the memory continued—unaltered, safe, unreal.
Down the other, the village burned again.
ONE PATH PRESERVES THE MEMORY.THE OTHER PRESERVES THE TRUTH.
Lightning stirred—just barely.
Not outward.
Inward.
Kurogane stood still.
Not frozen.
Considering.
In the observation chamber, tension tightened.
"These scenarios aren't equivalent," Valen said. "Some choices carry heavier emotional weight."
Masako nodded. "That's the point."
"And ranking?" Valen asked.
Masako's eyes did not leave the feeds. "They're not ranking choices."
She paused.
"They're ranking who carries weight afterward."
Decisions were made.
Some fast.Some slow.None clean.
One participant chose safety—and lost two unknown lives.
One saved others—and became trapped themselves.
One tried to change the conditions—and worsened everything.
Every scenario recorded heart rate. Delay. Focus shifts. Elemental micro-responses even when power wasn't being used.
Except Kurogane.
"His internal signature is...flat," Valen frowned.
"No," Masako said softly. "It's controlled."
In Ashihara's memory corridor, Kurogane stepped forward.
Not toward safety.
Not toward destruction.
He sat down between the paths.
The system hesitated.
He spoke quietly.
"This isn't a choice," he said. "It's a lie designed to test regret."
No response.
The burning intensified behind the false memory.
He didn't look back.
"I'll walk the truth," he said finally. "But I won't erase what was."
He stepped forward.
The corridor dissolved.
When the participants reconvened, fewer stood together now.
Five.
No explanations offered.
No verdicts given.
Valen addressed them calmly.
"Stage Two concludes."
None of them felt relief.
Because they all understood something now.
This test did not want obedience.
It wanted to know what kind of loss they would accept.
And how much of themselves they were willing to keep after choosing.