The glow around Zion hadn't even faded before the city trembled—deeper this time. Not in warning, but in invitation.
The pulse of Keitha shifted. Slower. Heavier. Like a giant taking a breath.
"The final gate's opening," Athena whispered, stepping back as the ground beneath the crystal core began to part, revealing a spiraling staircase that sank into obsidian darkness.
Axel whistled low. "Of course it's underground. Creepy final puzzles always are."
Asher leaned toward the opening. "Do we even want to know what's down there?"
Zora nodded, standing beside her twin. "We don't have a choice."
The team descended, one by one, torches blooming from the walls as they passed. Symbols flickered in the glow—ones they'd seen in puzzles, dreams, visions. It all connected.
At the bottom: a vast circular chamber.
Silent. Still.
Then: a voice. Not Keitha's. Not Zion's.
But many.
A chorus.
"Eight entered. Only one may leave bearing Keitha's truth."
The walls lit up—one panel per person. Each glowing with a different scene. A secret.
A weakness.
A fear.
Ace stepped forward first, jaw clenched. His panel showed a version of him sitting in an empty auditorium, no one watching. His scripts unread. His voice unheard.
He looked away.
Blair's panel flashed with lyrics she never dared to release. Notes wrapped in grief. Songs she buried after losing her sister.
Zora's breath caught. Hers showed her letting go of Zion's hand—and walking away.
"No," she said fiercely. "That's not what happened."
"Each of you carries a burden," the voice boomed. "But to open the Final Gate, one must carry all."
Athena stepped back. "You mean—someone has to take on everyone's fears?"
Sylvia's voice trembled. "And if they can't?"
"They become one with Keitha."
Axel cursed under his breath. "Translation: You fail, you die."
Enzo's eyes locked on the center of the chamber. "This city isn't trying to kill us. It's testing who can lead."
Zion touched the edge of Zora's panel. "It's like a soul crucible. A mental overload."
Asher snapped his fingers. "So... instead of physical strength, it's emotional weight?"
"Basically," Blair muttered. "It's a breakdown buffet."
Zora stepped forward. "I'll do it."
"Zora—no," Ace said. "You just got your brother back."
"That's exactly why." Her eyes burned with resolve. "I was chosen for a reason. And I'm not letting Keitha break anyone else."
But before she could touch the center platform, Axel grabbed her wrist.
"I'll do it."
Everyone froze.
"You?" Sylvia blinked. "Why?"
"Because I've always felt like the extra piece," he said simply. "You all had powers that made sense. I kept waiting for mine to click. Maybe this is it. I'm the absorber."
Zora's voice broke. "Axel, this could destroy you."
He gave her a soft smile. "Then I guess I'll finally go out doing something real."
He stepped onto the center.
One by one, the panels fired—images, sounds, pain. Memories none of them had shared aloud. Each one hitting Axel like a shockwave.
His knees buckled.
Blair cried out. "Stop it!"
But he stood up.
Again and again.
Every time he broke, he rebuilt.
Every time a panel tried to define him, he screamed back his truth.
"I'm not weak. I'm not extra. I am part of this team."
With one final burst of light—the panels shattered.
The door behind the chamber creaked open.
Silence.
Then: Axel collapsed.
Zora ran to him, catching his head in her hands. "Axel—please..."
He blinked. Eyes glassy. Lips cracking a smile. "So... did I win?"
"You won everything," she said through tears.
They pulled him up.
One by one, they stepped through the Final Gate—together.
Keitha didn't try to stop them.
It welcomed them.
Because now, the city had chosen.
And someone had paid the price.
Not with death—
But with strength.