She reminded him of his sister.
Not in the way she spoke or carried herself—Elena was sharper, more guarded. His sister was light, full of laughter and warmth. But there was something in the way Elena held herself, like she was balancing the weight of her world on brittle bones. The defiance in her sharp gaze, even when her shoulders slumped. It wasn't strength, not exactly. It was survival.
As the guards herded everyone into the chamber for the second challenge, Aiden caught sight of her. She was at the edge of the group, her frizzy hair half-falling out of its tie, damp strands sticking to her face. Her skin looked paler than usual under the stark lighting, her shadowy undereyes betraying how little she'd slept. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but there was a crack in her armor now—an edge of carelessness, like she couldn't quite summon the energy to keep it together.
Something bad had happened. He didn't know what, but he could tell.
"She looks rough, huh?"
He jumped at the sound of Jonah's voice, low and casual, just behind him. He hadn't even heard him approach.
"What?" Aiden asked, startled.
"Elena," he clarified, nodding toward her. "Leo cornered her earlier. Tried to pull some crap. I stopped it, but…" He trailed off, his face darkening.
Aiden clenched hisfists. "Did you tell anyone? The guards?"
Jonah laughed bitterly. "C'mon Aiden, You think they care? They're more likely to cheer him on than do anything about it."
Aiden looked at her again, standing stiffly as the guards directed us into another windowless chamber. She was holding herself together, barely, but her eyes betrayed her.
A voice crackled over the speakers. "Participants, take a seat. Put on the helmets. Your second challenge begins now."
Aiden turned to Jonah. "Do you think she's okay?"
"I'm sure she will be," Jonah said, but there was doubt in his voice.
They were led to the inside of the chamber, the guards pointed everyone to a circular table in the center. On it were strange metallic helmets, each with a mess of wires snaking into the walls. There were no splitting up into groups this time.
"What is this?" Nico asked, his voice tight and echoed across the room.
"Sit down and put on the helmets," one of the guards commanded.
"Failure to comply will result in immediate removal."
The room was silent except for the shuffle of chairs and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. The guys followed behind Aiden as he chose a seat that gave him a clear view of Elena. She sat stiffly across the table, her arms rigid at her sides. Her hands rested on her lap, clenched into tight fists. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she put on the helmet without hesitation. That defiance again. She wouldn't let them see her falter.
The metallic helmet loomed in front of Aiden like some alien artifact, wires tangled and pulsing faintly with a low hum. Around the table, everyone else hesitated as well.
"What is this supposed to do?" Nico's voice cut through the silence once again, tinged with nervous energy. He was holding his helmet, examining it as though he could find an escape route hidden within its circuits.
"Just put it on," Kai muttered, already seated with his helmet in place. His voice was muffled, detached.
The disembodied voice from the speakers crackled again, louder this time. "Failure to comply will result in removal. The challenge begins now."
Jonah sighed heavily, slamming his helmet down over his head. "Guess we don't have a choice," he muttered.
One by one, the others followed suit. Aiden kept glancing at Elena. Her expression didn't falter, but I noticed the subtle rise and fall of her chest, her breaths shallow and quick.
He finally got the confidence to pull the helmet on, the cold metal pressing against his temples. As soon as it clicked into place, the room disappeared.
Darkness.
Then, a faint hum, growing louder, and a strange, disorienting sensation, like he was floating. Slowly, a voice echoed in the void, soft but insistent:
"The mind is a labyrinth. The truth is hidden within."
A moment later, his surroundings shifted. He was no longer in the room. Instead, he found himself in a hallway—endless and dimly lit, its walls covered in twisting patterns that seemed to move when he wasn't looking.
He glanced down and saw his hands—real, solid—but everything else felt surreal, like a half-formed memory.
"Is anyone else here?" he called out, his voice echoing unnaturally.
No answer.
"Find the truth," the voice repeated, this time sharper. "But be warned: every choice has a cost."
He started forward, his footsteps eerily silent against the smooth floor. As he turned a corner, he nearly collided with Jonah.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, stepping back. "Aiden? You're here too?"
He frowned. "What do you mean? Of course I'm here."
Jonah shook his head. "I thought… Never mind. This place is messing with my head."
Before Aiden could respond, a faint cry echoed down the hall. His heart skipped.
"Elena," he said, already moving toward the sound.
Jonah grabbed my arm. "Wait. We don't know what's real here."
"I don't care," he snapped, pulling free. "She needs help."
Aide hurried down the twisting corridor, Jonah trailing reluctantly behind him. The cry grew louder, then abruptly stopped. The silence that followed was worse.
We turned another corner and saw her—Elena—standing motionless in the center of the hallway. Her face was pale and expressionless, her eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief.
"Elena!" he called out, but she didn't respond.
When he reached her, her gaze was fixed on the wall ahead of her, where a mirror hung.
But it wasn't just any mirror. The reflection showed something… wrong.
Aiden saw himself, but distorted—his face was twisted with anger, his eyes burning with something dark and unrecognizable. Beside him, Jonah's reflection was fractured, his image split into countless shards that shifted unnaturally.
And Elena… Her reflection was missing.
"Elena," he said again, softer this time. He touched her arm, and she flinched, as though waking from a trance.
"What is this?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I don't know," he admitted.
The disembodied voice echoed again, its tone cold and mechanical: "Face your truth, or fail the challenge."
Elena turned to Aiden, her eyes glossy. "I don't know if I can do this."
"You can," he said, his voice firm. "We'll figure this out. Together."
Behind them, the hallway began to twist and shift, the walls closing in. Time was running out.
Jonah stepped closer to the mirror, his fractured reflection warping with each movement. "This thing is a trap," he muttered. "It's meant to mess with us. We should keep moving."
Aiden nodded, trying to pull Elena away, but she resisted, her gaze still locked on the blank space where her reflection should've been.
"It's not real," he told her, keeping his voice steady. "None of this is."
Her lips trembled as if she wanted to argue, but she let Aiden guide her back. Jonah fell in step beside them, his eyes darting warily around the shifting hallway.
The walls twisted and pulsed as though alive, and the patterns etched into them seemed to rearrange with each step they took. Shapes emerged—faces, eyes, words too distorted to read.
"Where are the others?" Jonah asked, his voice low.
"They're probably in their own version of this nightmare," Aiden replied. "We just have to focus on getting through."
Elena finally spoke, her voice faint but steady. "What if we're supposed to figure out what it means? The mirror, the voices, all of it—it's not random."
Aiden glanced at her, surprised. For someone who'd seemed so broken earlier, she sounded sharp, determined even.
"You think there's a message in this?" Jonah asked, skeptical.
"Maybe not a message," she said, "but a test. They're seeing how far we can go before we break."
Jonah huffed. "Sounds about right for these psychos."
They moved cautiously down the corridor, the air growing heavier with each step. It felt suffocating, like the walls were pressing in on us, but Aiden kept his focus on Elena. She didn't stumble, didn't waver.
Eventually, the hallway opened into a wide, circular room. In the center stood another mirror, taller and more ornate than the first. The reflective surface shimmered like liquid, its frame adorned with strange symbols.
Elena hesitated, then stepped toward it.
"Elena, wait—" Aiden started, but she held up a hand.
"I need to see," she said.
I exchanged a glance with Jonah, who shrugged, clearly unsure whether to stop her.
Elena stood before the mirror, and this time, her reflection appeared. But it wasn't her—not exactly. The image stared back with a cold, piercing gaze, her face twisted into an expression of contempt.
"You're weak," her reflection said, its voice venomous.
She flinched, but didn't look away.
"You let people hurt you," it continued. "You let them win."
Elena clenched her fists. "I'm not weak," she whispered.
The reflection sneered. "Prove it."
The mirror rippled, and the voice fell silent. Elena turned to us, her face pale but resolute. "It's trying to break us," she said. "We can't let it."
Jonah grunted. "Great. So, how do we beat it?"
"I don't think we can beat it," Aiden said, his chest tightening as he stared at the mirror. "We just have to survive it."
Elena nodded. "Then we stay together."
They moved as one, keeping close as they navigated the labyrinth of shifting walls and flickering lights. The oppressive silence grew heavier, the air thick with an unspoken threat.
Then came the whispers.
Faint at first, just a murmur of overlapping voices, growing louder by the second.
They were calling his name.
"Aiden."
It wasn't just one voice—it was a chorus. Familiar voices, unfamiliar ones, blending together until he couldn't tell them apart.
"Aiden. Why didn't you save me?"
That one froze him. His chest tightened.
Aiden tried to breathe, to remind himself it wasn't real, but the voice cut deeper.
"You let me die," it said.
It was his sister's voice.