The temple's oppressive silence was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing across the stone floor.
Reves froze, his grip tightening on the coin. Emerging from the shadows was a figure he knew all too well—his father.
His face was stern, his sharp eyes filled with disappointment as they locked onto Reves.
"So this is what you've been up to?" his father said, his voice heavy with authority.
"I knew you had a habit of running into trouble, but this? This is beyond foolish."
Reves took a step back, his heart racing.
"D-Dad?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man didn't answer the question. Instead, he continued, his tone growing harsher.
"You've failed, Reves. All of this was a test, and you couldn't even do the simplest things right."
"A test?" Reves repeated, his voice trembling.
"Yes. To see if you were ready to face responsibility, to think before acting, to show that you could handle yourself in a situation like this. And you've failed spectacularly," his father spat.
"Look at you—fumbling around, clinging to a coin like it's going to save you. Is this how you plan to protect anyone? Is this how you expect to survive?"
Reves felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The words hit him harder than he expected, and he struggled to find something—anything—to say in his defense.
"I... I didn't know it was a test. I—"
"Excuses," his father interrupted sharply.
"That's all you ever have, isn't it? Excuses. You're always running toward things you don't understand, thinking you can handle it. And when it blows up in your face, you expect someone else to clean up your mess. Is that what you want from me? To keep bailing you out forever?"
Reves' hands shook as he clutched the coin tighter, his knuckles whitening. He wanted to protest, to argue that it wasn't fair, but the words wouldn't come.
His father's presence was suffocating, his scorn cutting deep.
"Answer me!" his father barked, taking a step closer.
"Do you even think before you act? Or are you just content to keep making mistakes and hoping someone will fix them for you?"
"I'm sorry," Reves finally choked out, his voice barely audible.
"Sorry isn't good enough," his father snapped.
"You think a simple apology makes everything better? You need to learn, Reves. You need to stop pretending you're ready for the challenges you keep throwing yourself into. Because at this rate, you'll only bring ruin—to yourself and to anyone who tries to help you."
Reves swallowed hard, his fear keeping him rooted in place. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, his chest tightening with every word.
He wanted to defend himself, to explain that he was trying, but in the face of this relentless onslaught, all he could do was stand there, helpless and ashamed.
His father's expression hardened further as he pointed an accusatory finger at Reves.
"You're not ready for this. You don't belong here, and every second you stay is another chance for you to get yourself killed. Leave this place now before you make things worse!"
The temple trembled slightly, and with a soft chime, a glowing notification appeared before Reves:
[Would you like to exit this Fractured Reality?]
Reves stared at the words hovering in front of him, his father's commanding presence looming just behind them.
The urge to escape, to run from the overwhelming fear and the crushing guilt, clawed at his mind.
His hand trembled as he reached for the prompt, but he froze midway, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger, sadness, and desperation.
"No," Reves whispered, his voice shaky but firm.
"What did you just say?" His father's voice turned icy, his stern gaze boring into Reves.
"No!" Reves shouted this time, the word erupting from him with all the pent-up emotion he had been holding back.
"I'm not leaving!"
Tears welled up in his eyes as his voice cracked, but he pressed on, his emotions pouring out in a torrent.
"You don't get it, do you? I'm doing this for you! For us! I came here because I thought—no, I knew—that if I could find a way to be stronger, to be braver, maybe I wouldn't have to see that look on your face every time I mess up!"
His father didn't interrupt, but his piercing gaze remained unwavering. Reves took a step forward, his voice rising with each word.
"I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified! But I'm still here! I'm still trying because I want to prove to myself—and to you—that I can do something right for once! That I'm not just some kid you have to worry about all the time!"
By now, tears were streaming down Reves' cheeks, but he didn't care. His vision blurred, each step heavy with the weight of emotions he could no longer suppress.
His chest ached as if a part of him was breaking, but he kept moving, step by painful step, until his feet carried him forward at a sprint.
He ran straight toward his father, his heart pounding against his ribs.
His clenched fists trembled, the force of his emotions too much to hold in any longer.
His arms, once tense with the urge to lash out, slowly opened, palms reaching forward—not to strike, but to seek something he hadn't dared to hope for: an embrace.
"I know you're not real," Reves choked out, his voice trembling with raw emotion as he wrapped his arms around the illusion.
"But I don't care. I just... I needed to say this. I needed to tell you that I'm trying, even if it doesn't always seem like it."
He choked on the words, feeling the weight of every failure and every unspoken apology hanging between them. His arms wrapped around his father, though the distance between them felt vast.
His fingers brushed against the coldness of his father's form, as if the man before him were made of stone rather than flesh.
The tears came harder now, blurring his sight until the world seemed a distant, unreachable place.
"I never wanted to disappoint you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of guilt and longing.
"I just... I just wanted you to see that I can be more."
Reves pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing. His breath caught as his heart calmed down.
He had already known—this wasn't his father. Not truly.
This was an illusion.
The oppressive atmosphere of the temple seemed to shift. His father's rigid form softened, and though he didn't move or speak, the scorn in his eyes faded into something more neutral—almost understanding.
The notification before Reves flickered and disappeared, replaced by a new one:
[Trial of the Mind: Complete]
[The Reality Master has acknowledged your determination.]