The Weaver's domain twisted and pulsed around them like a living web, threads of light stretching infinitely in every direction. The air hummed with ancient power, each strand vibrating with the echoes of creation and destruction.
Aloysius felt the shard in his palm grow warm, syncing with the rhythm of the threads. "This trial… it's not just physical. It's the very essence of our will and spirit."
Elyon's gaze sharpened. "We face ourselves, and the consequences of our choices."
Kaelis clenched her fists, muscles tense. "We've come this far. We survive or perish as one."
Suddenly, the threads snapped taut, pulling them apart. Each was dragged into a separate path, visions swirling around them memories, fears, and the fragments of forgotten futures.
Aloysius found himself standing alone in a field of stars, the shard illuminating a shadowy figure approaching him a mirror of himself, twisted by doubt and the burden of power.
The voice of the Weaver echoed around him, "To pass, you must confront the darkness within and choose which thread to follow."