The next morning, no one really wanted to bring up the mirror mansion. So they didn't.
Instead, they followed the trail—winding through glittering grass and trees that pulsed with a slow, golden heartbeat. The jungle had shifted again. The path now led to a clearing, circular and oddly perfect, with no wind, no birds. Just... waiting.
In the center stood an ancient stone platform etched with spiraling runes. It looked like a giant compass. Or a sundial.
Or both.
"Tell me that's not glowing," Blair said, pointing.
It was—a low, steady pulse that synced with their heartbeats. Each rune shimmered in a different color, changing as they stepped closer.
Enzo raised an eyebrow. "It's reacting to us."
The stone beneath their feet vibrated.
Suddenly, a symbol flared—eight rings interlocking.
Then came the voice.
Not a whisper. Not a shout. Just... a presence.
"The First Test begins. Emotion must be faced, or fall to ruin."
"Uh. Excuse me? We didn't consent to that," Ace said, but it was too late.
The world around them blurred.
Then—boom.
Each of them stood in a different space.
Alone.
Athena appeared in a room of mirrors, each showing a version of herself—onstage, confident, adored. But when she moved closer, they shattered, revealing versions where she failed. Forgotten. Rejected.
"You're nothing without their applause," a voice said.
"No," Athena whispered. "I'm more than their cheers."
The glass reformed—this time showing her real self. Alone, strong, still standing.
Blair stood in her childhood bedroom, walls covered with harsh comments from social media, carved like graffiti.
"We only love you when you're perfect," the voices hissed.
She clenched her fists. "I'm not a doll. I don't need your love to be real."
The walls cracked—and fell away into light.
Axel was in a boxing ring. His opponent? Himself—angrier, louder, crueler.
"You're the problem," the other Axel spat.
"Maybe. But I'm trying to fix it."
With that, the angry twin vanished.
Sylvia was in a quiet art gallery. Her paintings hung crooked, twisted—her biggest fears exposed.
"You'll never be understood."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I'll still draw."
Zora stood in a forest. Her power flared wildly, fire flickering out of control.
"You hurt people," the flames whispered.
"I protect people," she answered, raising her hands. The fire calmed.
Asher found himself on stage, under blinding lights. Everyone cheered—but their faces were blank.
"You perform for nothing."
He laughed. "Then I'll perform for me."
And the lights dimmed to a soft, warm glow.
Ace faced a memory—his dad walking away. Again.
"You're not worth staying for."
Ace looked up, eyes hard. "But I'm worth fighting for. I choose me."
The vision crumbled like ash.
Enzo was in a library, books surrounding him—floating, judging.
"You'll never know enough. You'll never be enough."
He placed his hand on the nearest book.
"I already am."
The books settled. Accepted him.
One by one, they were pulled back into the circle. Shaken. Changed.
No one said anything for a moment.
Then Blair exhaled sharply. "Well. That was therapy but worse."
Athena chuckled, just a little. "But we passed?"
The stone pulsed once more.
A center rune lit up. In glowing script, it read:
You are chosen. But only the worthy shall lead.
From the sky, tiny golden orbs drifted down like fireflies—settling on their shoulders.
They weren't the same teens who entered that circle.
Something had clicked.
Keitha wasn't just testing them.
It was shaping them.