2nd Layer
The poison-laced air faded behind them as Arthur and his team crossed the threshold beyond the Puzzle Gate. Gone were the serpents, the cursed trees, and the whispering roots. Before them stretched a new path—vast, gleaming, and impossibly silent.
Mirrors.
Endless mirrors, lining both walls and ceiling. Some shimmered like still water. Others reflected twisted, exaggerated versions of the five figures walking cautiously through the corridor. The reflections didn't always move in sync.
A chill scraped down Jullian's spine.
"This place feels… wrong," he muttered.
"It's more than wrong," Nyx said, scanning the mirror faces. "They're watching us."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Stay sharp. This is the second layer: the Hall of Echoing Mirrors. It tests more than strength."
They didn't get far before the world changed.
One by one, each of them blinked—and found themselves alone.
Jullian's Trial
A chill wind blew through the glass corridor as Jullian turned to call out to Arthur—but found someone else standing in his place.
His stepbrother.
"You don't belong here," the figure sneered. "You're not even a real heir. You're the bastard who took everything. You murdered your mother just by being born."
Jullian's breath hitched. "You're not real."
"No? Then why do you flinch? You know the truth. Father only kept you around out of guilt. You've never been first. You've never been chosen."
Jullian's fists clenched. "That's not true."
The illusion stepped forward. "You'll always be second. Second to the crown. Second to your own worth."
Jullian's voice rose, cracking with emotion. "I didn't kill her. And I'm done apologizing for existing."
The illusion shattered like broken glass.
Nyssara's Trial
The forested corridor twisted into silver vines and marble. A figure stood in the path—an elven woman cloaked in ancient ceremonial garb.
"Daughter of light," she whispered. "You are destined for ruin."
Nyssara raised her hand, preparing a defensive spell, but the woman didn't move.
"You are falling," the woman continued. "You trust a human. Arthur Valerian. But he will bring fire to the Elven Groves. He will be the ruin of your kind."
Nyssara hesitated.
"He is cursed," the voice pressed. "And he will take you down with him. Don't let history repeat. The last time an elf trusted a Human, entire forests burned."
"I am not those who came before," Nyssara said, voice steady.
The woman's eyes flared. "You already know the truth, child. You've already seen it in visions. Arthur is the end."
Nyssara lifted her chin. "Then I'll change the end. With him."
"You will watch the forests burn, Nyssara. You will outlive your people — and he will stand untouched."
The figure vanished like mist in morning light.
Nyx's Trial
He stood in a room full of mirrors, but every reflection was warped—until one stepped forward.
Arthur.
But not the Arthur he knew. This one wore a look of contempt, eyes colder than frost.
"You think you're one of us?" the illusion spat. "You're nothing, Nyx. A failure. A broken toy left behind by your father. You don't belong in this world."
Nyx's jaw tightened. "You're not Arthur."
The illusion smiled cruelly. "But you believe it, don't you? You believe you're broken. That everything you touch turns to ruin."
"No."
"You'll never be more than a shadow. A cursed child no one really trusts."
Nyx took a step forward. "Even if that were true… I don't run. I rebuild."
With a final blink, the illusion crumbled like ash.
Saryn's Trial
The mirrored walls turned into the throne room of the Bhumari Empire.
Saryn stood at the foot of the dais—and his father sat on the throne, looking down with bitter disappointment.
"You left," his father said. "When the Empire needed you most, you ran like a coward. And now you play soldier in some backwater academy."
"I left to grow stronger," Saryn said, fists trembling.
"You'll never be strong enough. You'll never be Emperor. You lack the will."
"You made it clear I was never wanted."
The Emperor's reflection rose from his throne. "Then why do you still crave my approval?"
Saryn didn't answer.
"You're weak, Saryn. A disgrace."
Saryn met his father's eyes. "Maybe. But I'd rather be a disgrace with freedom than a puppet on your throne."
The illusion shattered in a brilliant blaze.
Arthur's Trial
He stood not before mirrors—but in a quiet meadow. A woman's body lay cradled in the grass. Beside her, a child sobbed uncontrollably.
"You were at fault."
The words were soft. Gentle. But they sliced deeper than any blade.
"You were at fault."
Arthur walked forward, step by step.
He couldn't see the child's face—only feel the grief echoing from him. And the accusation.
"You were at fault."
Arthur reached out.
But his hand passed through.
He closed his eyes.
"I don't know who you are," he whispered, "but I'll find out. And if I was at fault… I'll bear it."
The world fractured. And then rebuilt.
They regrouped—wounded, shaken, but whole.
Before them stood the final barrier of the Hall of Echoing Mirrors: a towering mirror with no reflection.
It spoke in a voice older than time.
"Only those who know themselves may pass. Tell me—what do you fear becoming?"
One by one, they stepped forward.
Jullian: "I fear becoming like him—my stepbrother. Cold. Ruthless. Empty."
Nyssara: "I fear betraying my people. Watching them burn for the choice I made."
Nyx: "I fear… being abandoned again. That even if I give everything, no one stays."
Saryn: "I fear… wanting the throne. Not for my people. But to prove him wrong."
Then came Arthur.
He looked into the mirror.
The child from before appeared again.
"You were at fault."
Arthur inhaled.
"I fear losing control. Becoming someone who sacrifices everything… for a goal I no longer remember."
The mirror paused.
Then slowly—without a sound—it dissolved.
The path ahead lit up, leading to the next layer of the dungeon.
But none of them rushed forward.
They stood, quiet, together.
And for the first time since they had entered the dungeon… they understood one another.