The Temple's Judgment
Aden stood in the fading glow of the temple's final test, his breath uneven as the last remnants of its power receded. The weight of the mask he had rejected still lingered in his mind—like an outstretched hand he had refused to take.
The air felt… different.
The temple had stopped watching him.
It wasn't a relief. It felt like a punishment.
Aden swallowed, trying to shake the feeling. He called out, just to hear something, anything. But the sound of his own voice was wrong—thin, distant, like it barely belonged to him.
He took a step forward. His footsteps should have echoed in the vast chamber, but the sound was muted, dull. Even his own breathing felt subdued.
Had he made a mistake?
A whisper drifted through the chamber, soft as wind through dead leaves.
> "A name unspoken, a shadow unseen. Walk wisely, forgotten one."
The torches flickered. Then, one by one, they died.
Aden was alone in the dark.
---
The World Beyond the Temple
-The Scholar and the Soldiers
Far beyond the temple's entrance, the world continued to move.
A group of figures made their way through the overgrown ruins, boots crunching against ancient stone. Their leader—a woman in a tattered scholar's robe—pressed forward with urgency, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"The temple should have chosen by now," she muttered under her breath.
A soldier beside her adjusted his grip on his rifle. "If it chose, we'll know soon enough."
"And if it didn't?" another asked.
The scholar didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the distant silhouette of the temple, unreadable thoughts swirling behind her eyes.
> Something happened in there. But what?
She exhaled and tightened her grip on her notes.
They needed to find out—before someone else did.
---
-The City's Unease
Back in the nearest settlement, the whispers had already begun.
The temple had awakened.
Some called it an omen—a sign that something had gone terribly wrong.
Others saw it as an opportunity. Treasure hunters and mercenaries exchanged knowing glances, murmuring about relics, lost power, and the price of things best left undisturbed.
In the corner of a dimly lit tavern, a man sat sharpening a knife. The steady, scraping sound filled the silence between conversations. His expression was unreadable, his focus unwavering.
He wasn't interested in rumors. He was waiting for confirmation.
> If someone had survived, there'd be a bounty on their head soon enough.