The silence after the vision was suffocating.
Kaelen's pulse still hammered in his skull, the alien words seared into his mind like fire: The First War. The Betrayal. The Price of Infinity. Lyra stood a step away, her breathing uneven, her hand flexing as though itching to draw her weapon though nothing stood before them.
Then the chamber shifted again.
The crystalline walls rippled, bending inward until they formed a perfect circle around the two of them. The air grew heavy, charged, and the voice returned—no longer distant, but close, wrapping around their bones.
"Alone, you break. Together, you endure. Show us."
Kaelen stiffened. "They're… testing us again."
Lyra narrowed her eyes, scanning the chamber. "Testing what? Our patience?"
The floor split open beneath them. This time, it didn't fall into molten light—it opened into a swirling void, a pit of nothingness that seemed to stretch forever. Their platform shrank to a narrow bridge, just wide enough for two people to stand side by side.
Across the gap, another platform gleamed faintly with a doorway of light.
Lyra cursed softly. "A trust game. Cute."
Kaelen's stomach twisted. As if to confirm, translucent glyphs spiraled upward, forming instructions neither of them could deny.
Two figures must cross. One leads blind, the other guides.
Lyra turned to Kaelen, lips curling in a humorless smile. "Well, Doctor, how's your balance?"
He swallowed hard, heart pounding. "I—I'm not exactly a gymnast."
She holstered her blaster and stepped forward, surprisingly calm. "Then you're the one closing your eyes."
Kaelen froze. "Wait, what?"
"You're the genius with the crystal. If you go blind and fall, this whole mission dies with you. That means I guide. You trust me." She leaned in, her gaze fierce, unwavering. "Can you do that?"
For a moment, Kaelen saw her not as the reckless pilot or sarcastic stranger, but as something far rarer—someone who had survived impossible odds, someone who would rather fight the universe than bow to it.
Slowly, he nodded. "I trust you."
The glyphs pulsed, acknowledging the choice.
Kaelen closed his eyes. The darkness pressed in instantly, the pit's silence yawning beneath him. Every step he took felt like walking off the edge of existence. His body trembled with the urge to open his eyes, but Lyra's hand gripped his arm, firm, steady.
"Step left," she murmured, her voice low but sure. He obeyed, feeling the edge of the bridge brush against his boot. His pulse spiked, but her hand pulled him back onto safety.
"Good. Forward. Slow."
Her voice anchored him. Step by step, he walked into nothingness, guided by her steady presence. Sweat dampened his palms, but each time fear threatened to drown him, Lyra's grip tightened, her voice grounding him again.
Halfway across, the bridge shook violently. Kaelen staggered, nearly slipping. His heart seized in his chest.
"Lyra!"
"I've got you," she snapped, pulling him upright with surprising strength. Her arm wrapped briefly around his chest, holding him steady against her. Her breath brushed his ear, warm despite the chill of the chamber. "Don't you dare quit on me now, Doctor."
Something in her tone—steel wrapped around fire—stilled his panic. He drew in a sharp breath, then nodded. "I'm with you."
Together, step by step, they crossed the void.
When his boots touched solid ground again, Kaelen opened his eyes. The doorway of light loomed ahead, glowing brighter. Behind them, the bridge dissolved into mist.
The whisper returned, resonant, almost approving:
"Two threads intertwined. Stronger than one. We will test again."
Kaelen turned to Lyra, his chest still heaving. She smirked faintly, though her eyes betrayed the adrenaline still coursing through her.
"Not bad for a first date," she said dryly.
Despite everything—the fear, the danger—Kaelen laughed. A short, raw sound that surprised them both.
But before he could speak, the doorway yawned open, and an icy wind spilled out, carrying with it the faint echo of voices not their own.
The next trial awaited.