Her chest constricted. Her pulse roared in her ears.
"No," she said firmly, her voice carrying through the crystal hall. "Not my fate. Not ever."
The mirror cracked.
A sharp sound echoed like thunder as fractures raced across its surface. Shards of light fell away, dissolving before they touched the ground. The path opened wider, as though the labyrinth itself acknowledged her defiance.
Selene stepped through.
Her trial was not one of battle, nor endurance, but of will. Every reflection tested her heart, every illusion probing for weakness. Yet her spirit was carved from steel, refined in silence, tempered in duty.
By the time she reached the labyrinth's heart, her reflection stood tall in every mirror—no corpses, no betrayal, no broken crown. Just herself, unshaken, a silver flame burning steady against the dark.
