The arena was silent.
Of the fifty who had stood at the beginning, only one remained upright.
Jason stood in the center of the stone platform, breath steady, skin slick with sweat, clothes torn and clinging to his body. Around him lay groaning men—none unconscious, none bleeding, all alive. Most sat propped up against the curved walls, dazed but breathing. A few still tried to push themselves to their feet, only to slump back down with quiet groans.
He hadn't hurt anyone more than he had to.
Every blow had been measured. Every move chosen with intent—not to destroy, but to disarm, subdue, to preserve dignity where possible. He fought with the kind of calm that only came from someone who had seen far worse than this. Someone who had already faced death, and walked past it.
Jason exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as the silence stretched.
Then, a ripple—like the surface of a pond disturbed.
The Leviathan's voice echoed from all directions at once.
"It is done."
The air shimmered. The curved arena floor dissolved like mist, revealing the true nature of the cavern once more—vast, ancient, lit by the soft pulse of sea-blue bioluminescence. The crew found themselves gently lowered onto a smooth stone platform.
And before him, floating just above the floor, the phantom form of the Leviathan appeared once more. dragon-torso, kraken-limbs, deep blue scales and six eyes that gleamed like lanterns in the deep.
The massive head turned toward Jason.
"You chose mercy. Strength. Control. A body trained, but a will tempered. You stand."
Jason said nothing. He met the creature's eyes without flinching.
The Leviathan's voice rumbled again.
"The first trial is complete. The second begins now."
The world shifted in the blink of an eye.
One moment, Jason stood amidst the groaning crew and glowing cavern. The next—silence. Cold. Dim blue light filtering down from a high, unseen ceiling. The stone under his feet felt older, smoother, like it had been carved by something not human.
He was alone.
Or so he thought.
A shimmer passed through the air, and the Leviathan appeared—not in its monstrous form, but in the shape of the man from before. Olive skin. Long dark blue hair. Bare chest gleaming faintly in the low light. The red eyes glowed with faint amusement as he regarded Jason.
Jason's posture didn't shift. He didn't ask *why* he was brought here. He asked something else.
"What happened to the crew?"
The Leviathan tilted his head. "Straight to the point. I like that."
Jason didn't respond. Just waited.
The Leviathan finally answered, "They are back aboard the Dalyla. Unharmed. Mostly asleep, some still dazed. I am no butcher. They were never part of the next step."
Jason's brow furrowed slightly. "Then what is this?"
"The trial hasn't ended."
A slow, pulsing silence followed those words.
Jason's fists clenched slightly, but not in fear—readiness.
"You said there'd be no killing," he said carefully.
"And there won't be." The Leviathan stepped closer, his voice smooth like the ocean before a storm. "But not all battles are fought with fists. You passed the test of strength. Now comes the test of *spirit*."
Jason studied him for a long moment. "Spirit?"
The Leviathan smiled faintly, those red eyes narrowing. "You've proven you can endure. Now I will see what you *carry* inside that endurance. The guilt. The past. The things that chain you. If you break, you will not die—but you will not go forward either."
Jason's eyes narrowed. "And the girls?"
"They watch."
The chamber pulsed. The walls seemed to breathe, shifting faintly with waves of unseen pressure.
"And they wait," the Leviathan continued, turning away as mist began to swirl around the edges of the room. "To see if you are *truly* worthy of the future that may include them."
Jason didn't reply. He simply set his jaw and stared into the mist.
The cavern around Jason shifts once again, the water growing heavier with each passing moment. The Leviathan's presence is almost suffocating, its power seeping through the very walls of the cavern, preparing him for the next trial. This time, the weight of the test feels even more profound—this is not a test of strength, nor a challenge against the very elements, but a trial that cuts deep into his soul, one that digs up a past long buried.
The mist parts before him, and the air grows thick with an emotional weight he hasn't felt in years. His heart stutters in his chest as a figure steps forward from the shadows, a silhouette he knows well but hasn't seen in what feels like a lifetime.
A figure from his past, someone who once held his heart. Her features are soft, her eyes filled with warmth, but there is a sadness in her gaze, a kind of quiet longing that immediately twists Jason's gut.
Her name is Mary .
She was his wife in his past life—a woman who succumbed to a cruel illness far too young. Jason remembers the long nights by her bedside, the helplessness that gnawed at him as her illness slowly took everything from her. He remembers the loss, the overwhelming grief, and the desperate sense of failure that filled him when she passed away, even though he did everything he could to save her.
But this, this is not Mary as she was before. This is a vision shaped by his own guilt, twisted by the Leviathan to test him. The fog around them swirls, and Jason can hear the distant, mournful sound of the waves crashing against the cavern's walls. The space between them feels impossibly vast, yet she stands there, as if waiting for him to acknowledge her.
"Jason..." she says, her voice soft, almost a whisper, as though it's barely enough to reach him through the veil of his memories. "Why did you leave me behind? Why did you move on after I was gone?"
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His breath catches in his throat as a heavy knot forms deep within him. Mary's face is the image of someone he loved with everything he had, someone whose death shattered him in ways he couldn't even begin to express. But she's gone now. He has moved on, built a new life. And yet… here she is, standing before him, accusing him with the quiet sorrow of someone who has been left behind.
"I tried to save you," Jason says, his voice hoarse, barely able to meet her gaze. "I *tried*—but I couldn't. And I… I thought that maybe if I moved on, it would ease the pain. It didn't. I—"
"You didn't even mourn me properly, Jason," Mary interrupts softly, her voice now tinged with sorrow and disappointment. "You just let me go. You forgot me. How could you do that? How could you just *move on*?"
Jason's heart twists, and the guilt he's buried for so long threatens to drown him in its weight. He thought he'd come to terms with her death—he had thought he'd forgiven himself. But this trial, this illusion, has torn open a wound he thought had healed.
The Leviathan's voice booms through the cavern once more, deep and unyielding.
"Do you see now, Jason? Your guilt weighs heavy, doesn't it? The woman you loved, taken from you too soon, and you left her behind. How will you face this loss? Will you allow it to consume you? Will you let your grief destroy you, or will you rise above it?"
The figure of Mary continues to stand before him, her face a mixture of sadness and understanding. She reaches out a hand toward him, her eyes pleading with him to answer.
But Jason feels a deep, gnawing truth within him. He's carried this guilt for so long, believing that somehow, he could have done more, that his moving on was a betrayal. He could never forgive himself for thinking that. But now, as the Leviathan forces him to face it, he realizes—this isn't her fault. It wasn't his fault either. It was simply the nature of life. Mary had died, yes, but that was not something Jason could change.
The illusion begins to waver, the figure of Mary flickering like a candle caught in the wind.
Jason takes a deep breath, the words coming to him slowly but with resolve.
"I didn't forget you," he says softly, his voice steady now. "But I can't live in the past. I can't keep mourning you forever. I have to keep moving forward, for both of us."
The cavern seems to shift with those words, the illusion of Mary dissolving into the mist. The weight of guilt lingers in his chest, but now, Jason feels something new—a kind of release, a lightness he hasn't known in years.
The Leviathan's voice rumbles one last time, its deep, ancient tone resonating through him.
"You have passed the test, Jason. The past cannot be changed. But you, the way forward, and the strength you carry with you—that is what matters. Rise now, and continue your journey."
The mist clears, and the cavern lightens as though the test has been completed. Jason stands there, breathless but resolute, feeling the burden of guilt lift, if only slightly. He is no longer bound by the illusion of his past, the grief of Mary's death no longer holds him in a vice of regret. He has faced it and moved forward, just as the Leviathan demanded.
The path ahead is now open, and Jason knows that the true test was not in how he mourned, but in how he chose to endure.
Jason's voice came in a whisper
" I wish I could see you again…"