The air around them felt denser, like a weightless fabric they had to push through with every step. Melania, Avella, and Archon walked through the labyrinth of golden threads, shimmering and flickering in the darkness, creating the sense of a living network that expanded and contracted like a breathing entity.
Avella walked ahead, her steps quick but cautious. She still held the crystal in her hands, its warm glow shielding them from the surrounding gloom. She stopped near one of the network’s nodes—a point where the threads converged and pulsed, like the heart of a living creature.
“Something is shifting here,” she said quietly, not lifting her eyes.
“This is a node of choice,” Archon explained, standing just behind her. His voice was soft but weighted. “Each such node is a crossing of fate. Touch it, and you’ll see how your decision can shape reality.”
Melania leaned closer to the threads. Their surface was warm, almost like skin, vibrating faintly under her fingers. The moment she touched them, the world around her transformed.
A vision unfolded: an endless plain where a great city once stood. Now the place was buried under layers of ash and rubble. In the distance, she saw a few people trudging through the wasteland, burdened by the weight of destruction. Among them, Melania recognized herself—worn but unbroken.
“This is one of many possible futures,” Archon said as the vision faded.
“But what can I do to prevent it?” she asked, clenching her fists.
“What you always do: make a choice. But remember,” Archon paused, looking directly into her eyes, “not every choice can be undone.”
Avella lifted her head, her gaze distant and contemplative.
“The threads of the labyrinth don’t just show possibilities—they connect us to those around us. Are you truly ready to let their lives become part of yours?” she asked.
Melania felt the weight of their words pressing down on her. She wanted to deny it, to find another way, but she knew there was no escaping responsibility.
Suddenly, everything trembled. The network of threads flared red, and the nodes began unraveling, creating chaotic voids that led into the darkness.
“What is this?” Avella asked, her voice breaking with fear.
“Time doesn’t tolerate hesitation,” Archon replied, his eyes glowing with concern. “Someone—or something—is trying to disrupt the labyrinth’s balance.”
Melania touched the threads again, trying to find a new answer. But this time, they were cold, like stone, offering no visions.
“We have to keep moving,” she said, unwilling to waste any more time.
Avella nodded, and they pressed forward. The threads around them were taut now, as if bracing for a rupture. Every step felt heavier, every second stretched into eternity.
The path led them to another node. But this one was dark, lifeless. Around it, thin shadows wove themselves together into a threatening pattern.
“It’s a trap,” Archon warned, his voice sharper now. “Something external is influencing the labyrinth. If we give in, it could destroy us.”
Melania crouched before the node, observing the swirling shadows carefully. She felt no fear, only determination.
“If something wants to stop us, it means we’re close to something important,” she said. “And I won’t back down.”
Avella and Archon said nothing, but their gazes conveyed silent agreement.
Melania extended her hand toward the node and touched it. The shadows howled, their cries filling the air, but she didn’t retreat. The world around her shifted once more—this time, she stood on the edge of a chasm. On the other side was a golden gate, glowing with a quiet yet unyielding light.
“Forward,” she whispered to herself. “If this path has chosen me, I must see it through to the end.”