"The corridor keeps changing…" he murmured softly, barely audible, sensing the strange shift in the sound of stone—as if it were moving on its own, rumbling faintly, yet unmistakably not the work of nature.
Not long after the last echo faded, the passage that had once been narrow began to widen, as though stretching itself open.
"Truth… reshaping itself for whoever walks within it?"
Moments later, Kael finally reached the end of the corridor. A dim glow greeted him, and his steps slowed.
The stone walls that had pressed in from both sides now parted, revealing a vast chamber with a high ceiling riddled with cracks. From those fissures, a muted blue light seeped out… pulsing slowly, like the final breath of something that had once lived.
There was no grand path laid out before him. Instead, narrow routes twisted and branched erratically, forming patterns like wild roots spreading in all directions. Each path seemed to hang over an abyss, its depths either a yawning crater or a river of blue crystal light flowing through the darkness below.
He moved with caution, his eyes scanning every detail. The air was silent—too silent. And yet, within that stillness, a sensation crept in—he was being watched.
At the center of the chamber, surrounded by the narrow paths extending from all sides, lay a circular, flat platform. As if the space itself had been deliberately shaped around it—a focal point, the heart of the entire room.
And there—he saw it.
"A third body… it's here."
But this one was different.
Not a body that had fallen—but one that had been impaled.
Kael walked closer, following the only straight path leading to the center.
When he drew near enough, he stopped. His eyes locked in place. There was something about the sight that made his chest tighten.
"He wasn't just killed… he was sentenced," he said quietly, his voice trembling at the edges.
The human skeleton was pinned in place by seven colossal metal spears that had plunged down from the stone ceiling—piercing the skull, both arms, both legs, the back—binding it to the floor like an offering of suffering. Some of the bones were shattered, and dark, blackened blood had long since congealed on the stone surface—not flowing anymore, yet not fully gone.
And beneath one of the spears, Kael noticed something wedged in place.
"…Ah. Finally… another clue."
A scrap of paper, trapped between a fragile cloak and the cold stone where the body lay. He crouched down and pulled it free with care.
"This is what I've been looking for."
Third Record — handwriting trembling, yet still legible.
As though its owner had tried to carry this message home, even after the body could no longer live.
Kael read it slowly in silence:
I know I am not alone.
I hear other voices at night. They… all speak to me. About a 'third path' that was never written.
Where two voices exist within a single body.
One carries light. The other weaves darkness.
If you trust one too quickly… you will be devoured by both.
Do not choose sides. Do not reject them. Accept… or die as a shadow of yourself.
And I… refused to listen. I only wanted to go home.
But now I understand… this place was never created for those who wish to return.
If you are reading this… do not expect salvation.
This place… will destroy you before you ever get the chance to prove anything.
— Vell Garn, Participant No. 98
Kael clenched the note tighter. A faint vibration ran through his fingertips—not just a sensation, but a soundless echo, as if the entire place were sending a message only the living could feel.
And all of those voices…wanted someone to finish what had been started.
"Duality… isn't a choice. It's acceptance," he murmured softly.
Kael stood there for a long time.
His hands trembled as he folded the note shut.
"Ninety… eight?" he whispered. "That many… and all of them… dead."
Slowly, he rose to his feet, staring at the spears—still faintly trembling, whether from the lingering wind or the residual echo of storms raging far above.
"If he was participant ninety-eight… then what number am I?"
He lifted his gaze.
The cave ceiling continued to split open—forming new cracks bathed in gentle blue light. Strange energy seeped from the stone like droplets of Aetherial Logic, falling slowly like luminous dew—neither alive… nor truly dead.
"…This place is alive. Or… it was constructed by something that isn't human."
His eyes shifted forward.
Three paths lay open—left, right, and center.
He stood there for a long moment, weighing which direction he should choose. Each one was dark, silent, and offered no guidance at all…
Except for one thing.
The third corpse.
Its position—the way the body had fallen, facing the direction of the exit—clearly pointed to a single choice.
"The central path… that should be it. I don't have time to hesitate."
He glanced down at the skeleton beneath him, then lifted his gaze to the straight road stretching ahead.
"From the shape of the bones… I can tell he was running from the north. The central path. But one thing's certain… he chose this way too."
Without another word, Kael stepped forward.
His steps were heavy… but steady.
He didn't run. He walked slowly, every muscle coiled and ready, as if instinctively aware that something was watching him from within the cave's darkness.
Ten minutes—
The path grew narrower.
The corridor he had chosen began to change, sloping downward… tightening around him. He had to lower his body, carefully descending a steep trail hemmed in by wet, jagged stone walls. Dampness seeped into his skin, and each step felt like being pulled deeper into a nameless vortex.
Light continued to guide him. Not from a torch, not from magic—but from gaps in the rock itself. Natural light—dim, cold, and silent. Like a fractured dream… slowly fading into ash.
I need to be careful. This place is dangerous… and not meant for beginners.
To his right, a chasm yawned open.
Pitch black. No visible bottom. No railing. No choice… except to keep moving forward.
"No room to turn back, huh. This isn't just a cave. It feels like… a ritual you're meant to endure."
And when he stepped out of the narrow passage—
A sharp stench greeted him—dried flowers, dust, and something rotting. The air thinned. Every breath grew heavy in his chest.
Then he saw them.
Hundreds of human skulls. Leaning against the walls. Some sat as if asleep. Others lay scattered, as though they had collapsed while still trying to walk.
No names. No records. No one left to remember them.
Only bones… all facing a corridor with no end in sight.
"…They all tried the same path. And every one of them failed."
Kael closed his eyes. Silent. Letting his breath form a faint mist in the cold air that gnawed at his joints.
"I don't know if I'm stronger than them… but I'm still alive. And I'll keep surviving."
His steps did not stop.
Kael kept walking. Passing those left behind—by time, by hope, and by themselves.
And at the end of the narrow corridor… the space opened wide.
Kael's view expanded. The pressure weighing on his chest slowly eased.
"Getting bigger and more unpredictable, huh? This place really doesn't make sense."
The cramped stone walls gave way to a vast expanse resembling an ancient hall—like the womb of the earth itself, hiding something that was never meant to be found.
But the light here was different.
The high ceiling was fractured in several places, and through those cracks seeped a soft, blue-green glow from above. That radiance mingled with the shimmer of blue crystals and pale yellow sulfur growing wild along the walls and floor—illuminating the space like a sacred light that refused to go out.
At the center of the hall, a small river flowed quietly.
Its water was clear—almost soundless. And that very stillness made it feel like a boundary between the real world and something far deeper.
"…Beautiful. But… why does it feel so lonely?"
Yet it wasn't the river or the light that caught his attention first.
On the left and right sides of the hall—statues of knights stood in silence.
Lined up in perfect order. Seven on the left, ten on the right—facing one another, forming a frozen corridor of honor suspended in time.
Each stood in a ready stance, swords held upright before their chests, empty eyes staring straight ahead. They had no legs; their bodies seemed to float, as if gravity itself had been frozen by a will older than the world.
Their faces were carved with sacred solemnity, yet bore a single horn—like the head of a giant beetle. Though their bodies had been worn away by time, their posture remained unbroken… never fallen, never surrendered to sleep or death.
"These guardians… they're not just decorations. They look like they're… waiting. Even when the laws of the world refuse their rebirth, they still stand."
Kael moved forward slowly. His chest tightened—not from fear, but from a reverence he didn't understand.
"Should I say excuse me? No. I don't think they care."
This place was too quiet. Too orderly. Too… aware.
Like a hidden shrine that was never meant to be entered lightly.
Wild plants sprouted from cracks in the floor. Small white flowers bloomed silently among the moss, while purple orchids hung down from fissures in the ceiling. From those gaps, threads of aetherial light dripped softly—moving slowly, like living mist that already knew where it was meant to lead.
And all of it converged toward a single point at the far end of the chamber—a colossal stone gate.
Two massive wings of ancient stone stood tightly shut, smothered in moss and creeping vines that stretched all the way up to the cavern ceiling. Across its surface were carved spiral patterns and unfamiliar ancient Abyssan script… yet for reasons he couldn't explain, they felt like something that had long settled within Kael's memory.
"A gate…?"
Kael narrowed his focus. "So this is the trial chamber they spoke of… no doubt about it. These forms… I've never seen them before. And yet somehow, I feel like I know them. And this is clearly—not the work of humans. But of gods."
He walked closer. And the nearer he got, the clearer it became that along the path leading to the gate…
There were still bodies.
But they weren't scattered like the ones before. They sat cross-legged… or knelt facing the gate… clutching their own chests as if waiting for something that never came. Some even still held flowers—now turned to stone… yet somehow, still alive.
At that sight, Kael fell silent. And kept walking calmly. Though in his heart:
…This structure isn't just a cave. It's a tomb. A temple. Or… a selection chamber.
And at that very moment, he felt it.
He was being watched.
Not by eyes. But by something without form—the awareness of this place itself. As if the entire passage, the entire hall, was judging him… weighing whether he was worthy to step further, or destined to sink into the darkness like those who failed.
"…I'm still alive. But… how far can I go? The answer… lies beyond that gate. And even if what awaits me is a hell forged from my sins… I will walk through it with reverence."
Then—Kael stopped, right before the gate.
He stared at the stone surface. Though its carvings were ancient and worn by time, their authority had not faded. The spiral symbol upon it began to glow, slowly… as if awakening from a slumber that had lasted thousands of years, finally responding to the one it had been waiting for.
There was no handle. No lock.
Yet Aetherial light began to seep from the cracks in the ground around the gate, crawling upward along the carved grooves. One by one, the glowing lines pulsed softly, then gathered at the center of the doors.
As if aware… that someone had dared to enter.
The symbols shone like a heart brought back to life—throbbing… then beating faster.
And Kael knew—
"…This isn't the end. It's the beginning of the real trial."
At last, the gate began to open.
TCHK… TCHK… KRRRRRGHH—
An ancient, mechanical groan echoed from beyond the doors—heavy, like the bones of an age being forced to move again. The floor beneath Kael's feet trembled… growing stronger by the second, as though the entire chamber was breathing for the first time in millennia.
GEMMMMMBRKKKK!!
The two colossal doors slid apart, slow yet unstoppable. Each scrape of stone shrieked through the dust-choked air.Particles scattered, glinting faintly as they caught the aetherial light—like fragments of shattered memories.
From the widening gap, a cold wind lashed against his face, carrying an unfamiliar scent—a blend of pure water, ancient metal, and something… alive.
Then he heard it—
RAASSSHHHHHHHH—!!
Water.
Kael narrowed his eyes, his body tensing.
A vertical waterfall plunged from the ceiling of the chamber beyond the gate. Towering, it stood between him and the secrets it guarded. The falling water was like a living curtain, endlessly shifting, refracting blue light that danced across its surface—creating the illusion of liquid glass in motion.
But Kael knew… it wasn't just water.
Beyond the cascade, something was waiting. He caught only a glimpse—a vague shadow that wasn't a creature, nor a space… but a presence.
A mass of dark aura. Dense. Powerful.
Still. Observing. Waiting—for him.
Kael did not step forward. Not yet.
He let the mist dampen his face. Let the roar of the watery veil echo within his chest—becoming a rhythm that was calming, yet defiant.
"…Beyond it… everything will change, by my will," he whispered.
His voice was low, but each word carried the weight of a promise that would not be withdrawn.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then drew in a long, steady breath… like a warrior straightening his back at the edge of a battlefield.
His step had not yet begun.
But the gate had already accepted him.
And this place… had awakened.
Kael opened his eyes. Slowly. Staring straight ahead.
He stepped forward—one step that erased every possibility of turning back.
"Let's begin," he said, more to himself than anything else. "The first chapter of this journey."
***