The sphere’s glow enveloped Melania like a veil of light, simultaneously wrapping around her and piercing through her being. She felt reality dissolve, as if all boundaries of space and time had vanished. Her feet no longer touched the ground, and her body grew weightless, surrendering to some invisible current.
Before her eyes, images unfolded—a kaleidoscope of memories, possibilities, and worlds both alien and strangely familiar. She glimpsed a city beneath a giant dome, where people lived in harmony, yet their eyes were empty, devoid of will. Then came a landscape of endless plains, where towering glass and metal spires stood like fallen stars, but no living beings inhabited the space, leaving only an eerie silence.
Suddenly, a vision emerged that made her heart tighten: the shadow of a woman with white hair and deep sorrow in her gaze. The woman stood amid ruins, holding a fragment of a sphere strikingly similar to the one glowing before Melania.
“What is this? The past? The future?” she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
“This is one of the paths—leading either to an end or a beginning,” replied a voice, though it was not entirely human. Deep, yet melodic, it seemed to belong to the space itself.
The light abruptly faded, and Melania found herself standing in a vast open square. The sky above was cloaked in silvery clouds, casting a soft glow that reflected off the smooth stone pavement beneath her feet.
The square was empty, save for her. At its center stood a monument—a statue of a man draped in a cloak billowing like wings. In his hand, he held something resembling a quill, from which a trail of golden symbols extended, frozen mid-air.
Melania felt an inexplicable pull urging her closer. She stretched her hand toward the symbols, but as her fingers brushed against the golden trail, a deep rumble echoed from the statue. The stone came to life, and the statue slowly lowered its head, its eyes glowing with bright white light.
“You have touched the Mark of Eternity. This place does not tolerate weakness. What is it you seek here, mortal?” the voice thundered, resonating from all directions at once.
Melania took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“I seek answers. And a path to change.”
“Change? Do you understand that change is not merely an act? To alter something, you must become part of it. Know it as if it were your own body. Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for this truth?”
Melania hesitated. The words weighed heavily on her mind. Yet, deep down, she understood: without changing herself, without integrating what she sought to destroy or rebuild, true transformation was impossible.
“I am ready,” she said quietly but firmly.
The statue remained silent for several moments before speaking again.
“Then you must face the trial. But do not think this will be a battle. Your greatest opponent will be yourself.”
From the statue’s base, shadows erupted, swiftly engulfing the entire square in impenetrable darkness. Melania found herself in a void. Her breath echoed, and each step she took reverberated in the emptiness.
Suddenly, her own figure appeared before her. It was her, but not the version she knew. This reflection had eyes brimming with anger and doubt, and black threads dripped from its hands, writhing like living creatures.
“Who are you?” Melania asked.
“I am you. The you who could have been. The you who fears. The you who flees. The you who destroys, not to change, but out of weakness.”
Melania felt the words pierce her soul, exposing hidden fears. Yet she also knew this reflection was merely a fragment of herself—a part she needed to overcome.
The void around her began to echo louder, and the darkness started to shift. Melania felt every cell of her body bracing for a confrontation. But this was no battle of physical strength. She had to find the answer to the ultimate question: could she accept and transform herself?