I step back instinctively as the air shifts.
The second circle above the door fades, leaving the third dim but pulsing faintly. The oppressive heat lingers but is muted, like coals smoldering beneath ash. Lightning arcs sporadically, illuminating the chamber with bursts of electric light. Fog rises from the cracks in the stone floor, curling around my boots and climbing higher until it consumes the entire chamber.
The weight at my back hums with a strange resonance. Its once-scorching surface feels almost cool, yet the chains suspending it rattle as if alive, their vibrations sinking into my bones. Above the door, the third circle begins to glow, faint and menacing, diffusing its pale light through the mist. My chest tightens as the fog thickens, cloaking everything in swirling gray.
I press my shoulder against the weight and push experimentally. The metal groans, resisting me with a stubborn force. My legs tremble from the effort, and the air seems to grow heavier with each breath. The fog presses in closer, a living thing curling into my lungs. My thoughts blur at the edges, a strange lethargy creeping into my limbs.
The mist grows colder, damp and cloying. Every inhale drags like gravel through my throat. My vision narrows as fatigue sets in, an unnatural heaviness that pulls at my eyelids. The fog is not just masking the chamber—it is trying to lull me into sleep.
I shake my head violently, forcing my focus back to the weight. The glowing runes flicker faintly through the haze, their steady light an anchor in the shifting madness. Above the door, the circle brightens slightly, pulsing in sync with the rattling chains.
My hands press against the weight, and I push again. The chains groan as the metal shifts forward, but the fog stirs with the movement, coalescing into shapes. Two massive eggs form in the mist, their surfaces smooth and faintly glowing.
I freeze, my breath hitching. Cracks spider across the eggs, splitting them open with a sound like distant thunder. From within spills a dark, viscous substance, twisting into tendrils that reach for me before dissolving into smoke.
The weight pushes back against me, grinding into my palms, but I cannot look away as the fog shifts again. My knees buckle as a new vision takes shape—a sunlit courtyard. I see myself as a boy, no older than three, running barefoot over smooth stone. My mother's laugh echoes faintly, a sound so warm it almost breaks me. She stands with her arms outstretched, her hair catching the light, her smile radiant.
The weight feels lighter for a moment, the trial fading into the background. I step toward the vision, my muscles relaxing as the warmth fills me. But then the scene twists.
The courtyard vanishes, replaced by a darker memory.
I see myself again, younger and smaller, sitting on the floor with tears streaming down my face. My mother kneels beside me, her arms wrapped protectively around my shoulders. Uncle Titus looms over us, his stern expression unreadable, his shadow stretching unnaturally long.
The fog swirls, and voices echo around me, sharp and cruel. "Demon." "Balah-born." The taunts grow louder, warping into something inhuman. My younger self sobs harder, his face buried in my mother's embrace.
I stumble beneath the weight's renewed pressure, the chains groaning louder as the trial escalates. My muscles scream in protest, but I push harder, desperate to escape the phantom voices that claw at my resolve.
The fog shifts once more. I am older now, pinned to the ground by my cousin Septimus. His fists rain down on me, each strike searing with remembered pain. Laughter surrounds us—mocking, relentless. Others join in, their kicks and jeers blending with the metallic clanging of the chains.
"Get up," I whisper to myself, though the words catch in my throat. My legs falter, the weight pressing harder against me, its hum vibrating through my skull. The vision of Septimus looms closer, his sneer as vivid as the first time. I grit my teeth and push again, tears blurring my vision as past and present blur together.
Through the haze, Binah's form emerges. Her arms rise, slicing through the mist in deliberate arcs, her steps flowing in the rhythm of Ath'rihn. For a moment, her presence steadies me. She moves like water, her motions fluid and graceful, untouched by the chaos around her.
But then her form begins to distort. Her arms stretch unnaturally, her fingers twisting into jagged claws. Her silhouette warps, her body bending at impossible angles, her head tilting too far. Each motion sends tremors through the chamber, the walls groaning as if in pain.
The fog thickens around her, and shadows rise from the mist. They are grotesque, shifting shapes that lunge toward me only to dissolve at the last second. Binah's movements grow faster, more erratic, her monstrous form casting jagged shadows that flicker with each burst of lightning.
"Stop," I whisper hoarsely, though the word is swallowed by the chaos. The weight feels heavier with each passing second, its hum vibrating through my bones. My muscles tremble as I push, the chains screaming in protest.
The fog pulses, and I hear his voice. Septimus. "You're nothing, Janus," he says, his sneer cutting through the haze like a blade. "You've always been nothing."
I collapse under the weight, my hands slipping against its surface. The fog shifts, and he is there, standing over me. His fists come down, each blow reverberating through my body. My arms instinctively rise to shield my face, but the strikes are relentless.
The chamber seems to fade, its walls dissolving into gray. The weight presses down on me, its chains rattling like mocking laughter. Septimus's face looms closer, his sneer twisting into something monstrous. His voice grows louder, repeating the same words over and over, each syllable dripping with contempt.
"You're weak. You'll always be weak."
Consciousness begins to slips from my grasp. The chains scream as it crashes down, sending shockwaves through the chamber. I collapse to the floor, my body trembling, my vision swimming.
No. NO! No.
The third circle above the door dims, its faint light fading as my awareness descends into the mist.