Axel couldn't sleep.
Not because of nightmares—though those were getting worse—but because of the silence that came after. Keitha wasn't whispering tonight. No shifting shadows. No flickering lights. Just this deep, uncomfortable quiet, like the city was holding its breath.
He sat alone at the edge of the AMP House rooftop, hoodie pulled over his head, knees drawn up. The sky was bruised with stars, but the jungle below shimmered unnaturally. It was beautiful. Haunting.
"You good?" Zora climbed up beside him, tossing a bottle of water in his lap.
He caught it without looking at her. "No. You?"
She gave a bitter laugh. "We're in a magical city that reads our souls and shows us ghost versions of ourselves. I'm fabulous."
They sat in silence for a beat.
Then Zora asked, "You feel it too, don't you?"
"The pull?" Axel said. "Yeah. It's like Keitha wants something from me."
That night, Keitha answered.
They were exploring a new corridor in the Archive ruins when a glowing doorway appeared—one only Axel could see. It pulsed red and gold, drawing him in like a flame does a moth. The others couldn't follow. The moment he stepped through, the entrance sealed behind him.
He was alone. Again.
But not really.
A voice echoed through the chamber—his own.
"You've always wanted to protect them, haven't you?"
Axel spun around. A massive stone arena unfurled before him, illuminated by torches that lit themselves. In the center stood another version of him—older, colder, armor-clad like a war general.
"What is this?" Axel muttered.
"A test," the other Axel said. "To see what kind of protector you are."
Suddenly, figures appeared in a circle—his friends. Blair. Zora. Enzo. Asher. Sylvia. Athena. Each one frozen in time, trapped in shimmering cages of light.
"You can only save one," the voice boomed. "The rest vanish. Forever. Choose."
Axel's breath caught in his throat. "No. I'm not playing this game."
"You already are."
He sprinted toward the cages, trying to break them. Punching. Kicking. Yelling their names.
Nothing worked.
"Choose," the voice repeated. "Who matters most?"
His hands trembled. "I—I can't."
"Then they all disappear."
One by one, the cages began to fade, taking his friends with them.
"STOP!" Axel roared. "Take me instead!"
The arena pulsed. The version of himself stepped forward. "That's the thing, Axel. You can't always sacrifice yourself. Leadership is choosing. Even when it hurts. Especially then."
He fell to his knees.
This was worse than any nightmare Keitha had thrown at him so far. Worse than the monsters, the whispering walls, the cracked memories. This was his greatest fear made real:
Losing them.
Failing them.
Being forced to rank them.
His heart thundered. His head spun.
But then...
He closed his eyes.
He thought of their journey. The chaos. The laughter. The fights. The growth. They weren't just friends—they were family. Pieces of a whole.
And family... doesn't leave anyone behind.
He stood.
"I won't choose. Because they're not chess pieces. They're people. And I'll fight for all of them. Even if I have to break this entire city apart to do it."
The arena trembled.
The cages shattered—one by one. Each of his friends faded back into light.
The other Axel nodded. "Good. Then you're ready."
The world dissolved around him, and he collapsed back into Keitha's jungle. Alone.
But only for a moment.
Footsteps. A familiar voice. "AXEL!" It was Blair, charging toward him. "You idiot! Are you okay? What happened?"
He looked up, exhausted but smiling.
"I passed."
Later that night, Enzo found a new mural painted in the hallway of the AMP House. No one remembered painting it.
It showed Axel standing in front of a collapsing city, arms out, protecting his friends.
Below it, a single line glowed in gold:
"To destroy or defend—it's not your strength, but your choice that defines you."