The sixth floor welcomed us with absolute silence.
There were no narrow corridors nor vast halls. As soon as we descended the staircase, we found an open space that seemed to have no end. The floor was smooth, almost mirrored, reflecting our own steps with exaggerated clarity. The walls were too distant to be seen clearly.
It was a closed void.
The air was not heavy.
It was too stable.
Vespera frowned slightly.
"The density here does not fluctuate."
"What does that mean?" Lyannis asked.
"It means it's controlled."
That was worse.
We advanced a few steps.
The sound of our boots echoed irregularly, as if it came from different directions. There was no visible source for the reverberation.
"Stay close," I said.
The formation adjusted naturally, reducing the distance between us.
We walked for a few minutes without encountering anything.
Then the environment changed.
There was no explosion, nor the appearance of an enemy.
The light of the crystals began to weaken.
Not gradually.
Selectively.
Areas around us became darker, while others remained illuminated.
"Visual illusion," murmured Elara.
"Or spatial distortion," Rai'kanna completed.
Suddenly, I heard a voice.
"Takumi."
It was Liriel.
But she was beside me.
The voice came from ahead.
A figure began to form a few meters away.
It was Liriel.
Alone.
Wounded.
With her blade broken.
"Don't come," the image said.
I did not move.
Lyannis spoke in a calm tone.
"Do not respond."
Another figure appeared to the right.
Rai'kanna, fallen to her knees, breathing with difficulty.
To the left, Vespera looked exhausted, unable to maintain active magic.
Elara was distant, surrounded by shadows.
They were not imperfect copies.
They were precise reproductions.
Even the posture details were correct.
The entire environment seemed to whisper alternative versions of what could happen.
"Illusion projected through mental reading," Vespera said firmly. "It is not random."
She was right.
The dungeon was trying to access our possibilities.
Unspoken fears.
Scenarios that could happen.
The image of Liriel ahead took a step toward me.
"You were late."
I kept my breathing steady.
"Inner line," I said.
It was the code we established during preparation.
Lyannis immediately began emitting short pulses of stable energy, almost imperceptible, just enough to create a real reference.
The images began to oscillate slightly.
The fallen version of Rai'kanna lifted her face and smiled in a distorted way.
"You can't protect everyone."
I did not respond.
Elara took a step forward, but the image of her surrounded by shadows also advanced.
It was an attempt to provoke a reaction.
If we attacked the images, we would spend energy against something that did not exist.
If we ignored them, we might hesitate before a real threat.
"Anchoring memory," said Lyannis.
Everyone closed their eyes for a second.
The technique was simple.
Focus on the real sensation of the ground under your feet.
On the real sound of breathing beside you.
Not on the image.
When I opened my eyes again, the figures were still there.
But less solid.
Vespera slightly raised her hand.
She did not cast offensive magic.
She only altered the frequency of the magical flow around us.
The images began to fail.
The wounded Liriel flickered.
The fallen Rai'kanna lost definition.
The shadows around Elara became more dispersed.
Then the environment changed again.
The images disappeared completely.
In their place, doors appeared.
Multiple ones.
Spread throughout the space.
Each one different.
One made of simple wood.
Another metallic.
Another of black stone.
Another golden.
With no apparent pattern.
"Choice," murmured Rai'kanna.
That was it.
The floor did not want to hurt us physically.
It wanted to divide us.
If each one chose a different door, we could be separated.
I observed the doors calmly.
There was no indication of which one was correct.
But there was also no indication that only one would be valid.
"The line remains united," I said.
Liriel nodded.
We approached one of the central doors.
Not the most striking.
Nor the simplest.
Just a neutral position.
Before touching it, Vespera analyzed the magical flow around it.
"I do not detect a direct trap."
"Then we go together."
I placed my hand on the handle.
I opened it.
The space beyond was not a corridor.
It was another empty hall.
As soon as we all crossed, the door behind us disappeared.
The other doors vanished as well.
The reflective floor returned.
But now there was something different in the center of the hall.
A crystalline structure floating a few centimeters above the ground.
Small.
Almost discreet.
"Anchor of the floor," said Vespera.
I approached.
The structure seemed to contain dark mist inside.
It was the core sustaining the illusion.
"Destroy it?" Elara asked.
"Yes."
Liriel advanced first.
Direct strike.
The crystal cracked.
I finished it with a second cut.
The structure shattered completely.
The moment that happened, the surrounding environment began to fall apart.
The reflective floor lost its shine.
The walls reappeared.
The sense of emptiness disappeared.
We were in a normal corridor again.
The staircase to the next level appeared before us.
"The test was not strength," said Lyannis.
"It was emotional stability," Rai'kanna completed.
Vespera looked at me.
"It tried to create scenarios where you would hesitate."
"Yes."
But I did not hesitate.
Because they were not memories.
They were projections.
There was no reality there.
And we did not react with impulse.
We reacted with method.
We descended a few steps before stopping for a moment.
I looked at each of them.
None showed significant emotional change.
No doubt.
The Abyss had tried to fragment us.
It failed.
"The seventh floor begins now," I said.
The staircase ended in a new darkness below.
The sixth floor had proven something essential.
Our strength did not depend only on combat.
It depended on clarity.
As long as we maintained that, illusions would not break us.
And for the first time since we entered the dungeon, I felt that the Abyss was beginning to realize that we were not an ordinary group.
It tested.
We responded.
Without panic.
Without rupture.
The descent continued.
And the next challenge would not be only distorted vision.
It would be a direct confrontation with something that perhaps could not be ignored.
But we were prepared.
The Floor of Illusion was left behind.
And our minds remained intact.