Light did not enter Vivian's chamber.
It grew.
Soft at first. Then warm. Then gentle in a way that felt almost alive.
For the first time since the Trial began, the tight pressure around her chest loosened. The air no longer pressed down on her lungs. The silence stopped suffocating her.
She blinked.
The stone walls were gone.
She stood in a garden filled with sunlight.
White flowers swayed slowly in a warm breeze. Their scent drifted around her — soft, natural, peaceful. Not sharp like the Trial's illusions. Not distant like memory.
Real.
Her breath trembled.
She turned slowly in a full circle. Grass stretched beneath her feet. The sky above was bright but not blinding. Gentle light touched her skin.
No pain.
No fear.
No watchers.
Ahead of her stood a house. Wide windows. Open doors. Warm light spilling out. It looked lived in. Safe. Permanent.
Peace.
Her heart tightened painfully at the sight.
She did not trust peace anymore.
