Not all gods scream. Some simply laugh while they burn.
---
The Garden of Drowned Stars did not welcome them. It swallowed them.
No gates. No walls. Just a slow sinking into something alien. Every step they took into the garden was like wading through thought. The air was thick—heavy with scent. Not floral. Not organic.
Memories.
Memories pressed in from every side. Memories that weren't theirs.
Silas stopped. "Smell that?"
Naomi nodded, her voice quiet. "Regret."
Trees arched above them in impossible spirals. Leaves shimmered with galaxy-patterned veins. The ground pulsed beneath their boots like a slowed heartbeat. Petals drifted through the air, suspended not by wind—but will.
The stars above blinked.
No constellations. No familiar shapes.
Just an ocean of watching eyes.
Naomi's threads quivered, each fiber vibrating like the leg of a web-strung spider sensing prey.
"This place wasn't made," she murmured. "It was grown."
They passed a bush that wept quietly.
The tears were blood.
Flowers turned to track them, whispering songs in dead dialects, while vines twisted into hands that grasped nothing. The deeper they went, the more the colors bled into each other—sky melting into grass, shadows blooming like roses.
And at the garden's heart—Thessaria waited.
She stood upon a hill of soft velvet moss, barefoot, her crown of thorns gleaming wetly with dew—or was it ichor? Her skin was smooth, porcelain-like, but stretched too tightly over a face that grinned too wide. Her lips were carved in perpetual delight. Her eyes did not match—one was a mirror, the other a spinning fractal.
"I've been waiting," she sang, her voice fluted like a lullaby echoing inside a dream.
Naomi's voice was low. "We're here for the trial."
Thessaria tilted her head.
"Trial?" she echoed. "No. This isn't a trial. It's a lesson."
She extended her arms.
"To show you the mercy of lies."
The world blinked.
---
They stood in the village.
Whole.
Unburnt.
Mira stood by the bread stall. Children played in the dust. The sky overhead was pale with early morning light. A breeze carried the smell of soup and soil and memory.
Naomi staggered.
Silas said nothing, his jaw clenched.
"It's real," Naomi whispered.
"It's not," Silas growled.
But his hand trembled.
Mira waved at them. "You're late for breakfast."
The children ran to Naomi, laughing. One girl clung to her waist.
"You're our favorite," she said.
Naomi tried to move—but couldn't. Her feet were rooted. Her threads wouldn't respond. Her voice caught.
"I..."
Silas turned away. "This isn't mercy. It's poison."
He invoked Envy—wanting the illusion, craving its peace.
The false world shuddered.
Mira screamed. The sky cracked.
Then the illusion collapsed.
They were back in the garden. Naomi dropped to her knees, gasping, her fingers dug into the dirt.
"Why... why did it feel better?" she whispered.
Thessaria stood over them, smiling. "Because lies are shaped to fit. Truth? Truth scrapes."
Silas rose slowly.
"Then let's see what happens when you're peeled back."
He invoked Wrath. Pride. Sloth. A triad of sin wrapped around him like fire, smoke, and silence.
Naomi's threads ignited—black and violet, each one screaming its own name.
Thessaria clapped.
The garden came alive.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of Thessarias bloomed from the trees. Each smiled. Each whispered. Each wore a new face from Silas's and Naomi's past.
Their victims. Their regrets. Their friends.
The war began.
Silas dove headfirst into the thicket of illusions, blade slicing, fists shattering teeth and bone. Every Thessaria he killed giggled as she died.
Naomi wept as she fought—because each one looked like someone she couldn't save.
Mira. Her mother. Herself.
The sky turned red.
Time fractured. The garden bent space and rewrote causality. One Thessaria exploded into a rain of clocks. Another screamed their names in reverse.
"Stop smiling!" Naomi cried.
"They never will," Silas shouted.
And still they fought.
Hours. Days. Time lost meaning.
When at last the true Thessaria revealed herself—she was broken. Bleeding. Her smile had cracked into something brittle.
"You ruined everything," she whispered.
Silas spat blood. "That's kind of our thing."
He stepped forward and crushed her skull.
The garden howled.
Everything turned black.
---
They awoke beside each other on scorched ground. Flowers had wilted. The stars above no longer watched.
> [Trial Completed: Garden of Drowned Stars]
[Reward: Seed of Perfect Delusion – Grants Immunity to False Memories]
[Path Unlocked: Sector 5 – Threads of Time and Terror]
Naomi looked at Silas.
"I wanted to stay," she said.
"I know," he answered.
"But you didn't let me."
"I wouldn't let anyone stay in that lie."
She paused. Then touched his shoulder.
"Thank you."
He didn't answer.
But for a moment, his hand didn't pull away.
---