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The labyrinth wasn't done with them yet.
Kaelen had hoped that after defeating the thorn-covered monstrosity, they'd be able to catch their breath, but the moment the creature dissolved into dust, the garden of thorns around them seemed to shift again. The air grew even thicker, as if the labyrinth itself was deepening the fog, amplifying the pressure on their senses.
"We're not done yet," Seraphine muttered, her eyes scanning the horizon. "That wasn't the end of this place's tricks."
Kaelen could feel it—his Wrath Points were still surging, but they were slowly beginning to stabilize, no longer increasing with every moment like before. The anger that had fueled him through the battle seemed to have taken root, a slow burn within him. But it wasn't just the creature that had left him unsettled—it was the feeling that something else was happening. Something more dangerous.
Ariella stepped forward, sword still gripped tightly in her hand, but her eyes seemed distant. "It's like… we've been here before."
Kaelen frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This garden," she said, her voice tinged with confusion. "We've seen it before, haven't we?"
Seraphine's brow furrowed. "Impossible. We've never been here. Not in the same form."
But even as she spoke, Kaelen noticed it. The pattern of the vines, the way the air smelled—it was almost identical to the room they'd first encountered the crystal. The same oppressive feeling, the same weight of temptation hanging in the air. The labyrinth was repeating itself.
"It's trying to make us doubt everything," Kaelen said, his voice growing colder. "It's trying to make us question what's real."
A low, mocking laugh echoed around them, and Kaelen spun around, his dagger raised. But there was no one to see. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Kaelen," Seraphine said sharply, her voice laced with concern. "Focus. Don't listen to it."
But it was too late.
From the depths of the fog, figures began to emerge, each one more familiar than the last. At first, Kaelen couldn't make out who they were, the figures just shifting shapes in the mist. But then, as the fog cleared just slightly, he saw them clearly.
His past, his mistakes, all of them brought to life before his eyes.
Ariella, but not the one who fought beside him. This version was cold, distant, and disappointed in him. Seraphine's face was twisted into a grimace, her usual fire replaced with a glare of accusation. Even the labyrinth's manifestations of enemies from earlier—fallen comrades, people he'd failed—loomed around him, their eyes filled with judgment.
"I told you," the distorted voice of his reflection echoed in his mind, "you're nothing without me."
Kaelen's heart skipped a beat. No. It couldn't be real. He had left all of this behind. All the regret, all the guilt—it was buried, locked away. But the labyrinth had a way of digging up old wounds, exposing them, twisting them.
He could hear the anger starting to rise again, his Wrath Points slowly creeping higher as the pressure mounted. It was exactly what the labyrinth wanted—his rage, his frustration, his very essence to be manipulated, to make him weaker by allowing his emotions to run unchecked.
"I'm not you!" Kaelen shouted, his voice breaking through the fog of illusion. "I don't need this!"
But the figures only laughed, circling him like vultures. Ariella's eyes shimmered with a sorrowful gaze, one filled with accusation.
"Why are you still fighting, Kaelen? After everything you've done?"
Kaelen flinched, the words cutting deep. His chest tightened, a wave of doubt crashing over him. It was almost too much. The labyrinth was getting under his skin, weaving his own fears into the very fabric of reality.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head as he tried to clear the fog from his mind. "I am not you."
His fingers trembled on the dagger's hilt. He could feel the temptation, the urge to let the rage consume him. The anger promised power, freedom from the pain. But that wasn't what he needed. That wasn't what he wanted.
---
**Wrath Points: 160 / 20.**
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But in that moment, the surge of Wrath did not break him. Instead, Kaelen found clarity amidst the chaos. His eyes narrowed, and for the first time in a long while, he felt in control. The labyrinth wanted him to lose himself, to fall into the trap of rage and anger—but he was stronger than that.
With a deep breath, Kaelen focused. He let go of the fury, not suppressing it, but channeling it into something more controlled, more focused. The swirling voices faded, the figures around him dissipated, and the fog began to thin.
"You don't control me," Kaelen said, his voice low and steady. "Not anymore."
The figures, now nothing more than wisps in the air, flickered and vanished as the fog lifted. The garden of thorns began to fade as well, revealing once more the twisted stone walls of the labyrinth.
Ariella blinked, her hand still tight around her sword. "What just happened?"
"It tried to break me," Kaelen said, still breathing heavily. "But I won't let it."
Seraphine stepped closer, her expression unreadable. "The labyrinth will keep throwing these tricks at us. We need to stay sharp, or it will break us down."
Kaelen glanced at her, then at Ariella, both of them shaken but resolute. "We'll fight. We've come this far. We're not backing down now."
But deep down, Kaelen knew that this was only the beginning. The labyrinth's tricks were far from over, and the true test was yet to come. Would they be able to withstand the growing pressure? Could they keep their grip on reality, or would the labyrinth find a way to tear them apart?
Kaelen didn't have all the answers yet. But he knew one thing for sure.
He wasn't done yet.
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