The light did not fade. It grew sharper, brighter, until Eris could no longer see his companions. His world dissolved into radiance and sound—the thunderous pounding of the crystal heart, now indistinguishable from his own.
A whisper coiled through the brilliance.
"To claim the Heart, you must endure its truth."
The ground vanished beneath him. He fell—yet did not move—until he landed within a mirrored void. All around him, reflections rippled like water, each one showing him not as he was, but as he could be.
In one mirror he stood crowned, sovereign of realms, wielding powers that bent gods to his will. In another, he was a ruin—his body broken, his eyes hollow, consumed by the very strength he sought to master.
Eris clenched his fists. "These aren't choices. They're threats."
The voice answered, neither kind nor cruel.
"They are futures. The Heart binds with those who see their path clearly. What will you become?"
The reflections shifted. Now he saw faces—Jonas, Mara, Liora. They looked at him not with trust, but fear. Behind them came Asmodeus, grinning, his hand resting on Eris's shoulder as though guiding him.
He staggered back, his chest aching. "No. That's not me. I won't let it be."
The mirrors cracked. Shadows poured from the fractures, coiling around him, pressing into his lungs, his thoughts. Their voices whispered:
"You are no different. You seek power as they did. You will betray them, as they betrayed themselves."
The Heart's pulse grew violent, forcing Eris to his knees. He slammed his fists into the mirrored floor. The impact sent a ripple through the void. For a heartbeat, the shadows scattered.
"Show me," Eris growled, his voice raw. "If I'm to take this burden, show me all of it—don't just whisper doubts."
The Heart obeyed. The mirrors shattered completely, releasing a torrent of memories not his own—wars, betrayals, triumphs, despair. The lives of the crystalline basin flooded into him, a weight so vast it threatened to crush his soul.
Pain roared through every nerve. He screamed, but he did not fall. He held.
And then, amid the storm, came a gentler whisper.
"You endure. You choose. Then you may carry us."
The shadows withdrew. The void broke apart.
Eris collapsed back into the chamber, gasping, sweat running down his face. His companions rushed forward—Jonas caught his arm, Mara steadied him, Liora's hands hovered with quiet relief.
The crystal heart glowed softer now, its rhythm calmer. But a thin thread of its light now pulsed faintly beneath Eris's skin, racing along his veins like fire.
He had survived the first trial.
But the price of carrying the Heart had only begun.