Sebastian's chest burned. Pain rippled through his arms, his legs, his back — but it was nothing compared to the ache in his mind. Every nerve screamed as the trial pressed its logic against him, a relentless force demanding obedience, forcing him to accept a false choice as truth.
Submit or break.
Accept or vanish.
Endure or forget.
He clenched his fists and planted his feet. He would not let the trial decide who he was.
The gray space around him shuddered. Stone walls twisted, fractured lights flickered, then dissolved into nothing, leaving him standing on a surface that felt both solid and unreal. Shadows and shapes pressed toward him, whispering, reasoning, threatening — but he did not waver.
Pain twisted through him again, sharper this time, as if the trial had found the tiniest crack in his resolve and was widening it into a canyon. He drew a slow, steady breath. This is not my choice. I am.
