The corridor ahead seemed to stretch into infinity, walls shifting between stone and something that looked like crystallized moonlight. Their footsteps echoed differently here, Erel's boots striking the floor with hollow thuds, while Adren moved with that same unsettling quiet he'd maintained through every trial.
The silence between them had stretched on since the bridge, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Erel found himself stealing glances at his companion, studying the composed mask that never seemed to slip. Even now, after everything they'd witnessed, Adren looked focused. Ready for whatever came next.
"You know," Erel said finally, his voice cutting through the oppressive quiet, "probably only one of us is getting out of here alive."
Adren didn't miss a step. "I know."
"That's it? Just 'I know'?"
Adren glanced at him, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "What do you want me to say? We've both seen how this works by now."
Erel felt something cold twist in his stomach. The way Adren said it—so matter-of-fact, like they were discussing the weather instead of their potential deaths.
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"Of course it bothers me." Adren's voice was quieter now. "But being bothered doesn't change anything. We do what we have to do."
They walked in silence for a while longer, the corridor beginning to curve. The walls here were different—smoother, almost organic. Strange symbols flickered along their surface.
"All those people we've lost," Erel said eventually. "You never seem... affected by it."
Adren stopped walking so abruptly that Erel nearly collided with him. For a long moment, he just stood there, shoulders tense.
"You think they haven't affected me?" When Adren turned around, his voice was different—rougher, with something raw underneath. "You think I don't see their faces every time I close my eyes?"
The sudden intensity caught Erel off guard. This wasn't the composed strategist he'd been traveling with.
"I just... you always seem so in control."
"Because someone has to be." Adren started walking again, slower now. "Someone has to make the decisions, keep us moving forward. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
Erel studied his companion's profile. There were cracks showing through the careful control—the way his jaw was set too tight, the slight tremor in his hands.
"Every person who didn't make it out," Adren continued, his voice getting quieter. "Every choice I made that got someone killed. You think I just forget about them?"
"I didn't say that—"
"You didn't have to." Adren's laugh was bitter. "I can see it in the way you look at me. Like you're trying to figure out what's wrong with me."
They passed under an archway, and the air grew thicker, charged with energy that made Erel's skin prickle.
"On the bridge," Adren said suddenly, barely above a whisper. "When I used that essence. I knew what it meant for you and Grey. But I did it anyway."
"You made a tactical decision—"
"I was terrified." The words came out harsh. "Those shadows, the things they were showing me... I couldn't handle it. So I ran ahead because I was too much of a coward to face my own demons."
Erel had never heard that tone from Adren before—something raw and guilty and utterly human.
"Grey made her own choice," Erel said softly.
"Because I put her in that position." Adren's hands clenched briefly. "Because I chose to save myself first."
The corridor was widening now, the walls curving outward. The energy in the air was getting stronger.
"I keep thinking about all of them," Adren continued. "Wondering if there was something else, I could have done. But in the end, I always choose survival. Mine first."
There it is, Erel thought, something cold settling in his chest. The admission. He always chooses himself first.
They rounded the final curve and stepped into a vast circular chamber. The walls stretched up into infinity, lined with mirrors that reflected not their faces but their shadows—dark, writhing things that moved independently. In the center stood an ornate altar, and before it materialized a figure that made Erel's breath catch.
A woman in a flowing white dress that seemed to be made of mist and starlight. Her face was beautiful but cold, with eyes like winter storms and a smile that promised cruelty disguised as kindness.
"Welcome," she said, her voice echoing strangely in the chamber. "I am Evangeline, the Paradox Bride. You have reached the final trial."
There was something deeply unsettling about her presence, as if she existed in multiple dimensions at once.
"This trial," Evangeline continued, her smile widening, "is perhaps the most beautifully simple of all. So straightforward that even children could understand the rules, yet so devastatingly effective that it has broken the hearts of the most noble souls." She gestured gracefully toward two doorways that had appeared in the walls. "You see, mortals always believe they can predict each other's choices. They think they understand the mathematics of loyalty and betrayal. But when faced with absolute clarity... ah, that's when true nature reveals itself."
As she spoke, a strange sensation began to spread through Erel's chest—a burning, like ice-cold fire running through his veins.
"You have been poisoned," Evangeline announced with cheerful indifference. "A toxin that will claim your lives within minutes. But salvation is possible, for those wise enough to claim it."
She gestured toward the altar, where two chalices had appeared—one gleaming gold, one gleaming silver.
"The golden chalice contains a cure that will neutralize the poison completely. The silver chalice contains a toxin so potent that death will be instantaneous." Her eyes glittered with dark amusement. "Now, here is where it becomes deliciously complex. You will each be taken to separate chambers, where you must choose which chalice the other will drink. Not for yourselves—for each other."
She paused, letting the weight of that sink in.
"Do you understand what this means?" Evangeline's voice was sweet, almost motherly. "You are not choosing your own fate. You are choosing whether your companion lives or dies. Gold means you save them. Silver means you kill them. It's that simple, that clear, that brutally honest."
Erel felt his blood run cold as the full implications became clear.
"But here's the truly exquisite part," Evangeline continued, practically purring with delight. "Let's explore the possibilities, shall we? If you both choose gold—if you both try to save each other—then you will both receive the cure and live. How wonderfully noble! But if you both choose silver—if you both decide to kill each other—then you will both receive the poison and die together. How poetically tragic!"
She began to pace around them, her dress flowing like liquid moonlight.
"But what if one of you chooses gold while the other chooses silver? What if one tries to save while the other chooses to kill?" Her smile became predatory. "Then the one who chose salvation will drink death, while the one who chose murder will drink life. The good die, the selfish survive. Isn't that just how the world works?"
Adren's face had gone pale, and Erel could see him working through the implications.
"You see," Evangeline continued, "this isn't about luck or skill or solving riddles. This is about trust. Pure, simple trust. Do you believe your companion will choose to save you? Do you trust them enough to choose to save them in return? Or do you assume they will betray you, and therefore betray them first to ensure your own survival?"
She stopped directly in front of them, her cold eyes moving between their faces.
"The beautiful irony is that mutual selfishness leads to mutual survival, while mutual selflessness leads to mutual salvation. But trust... trust is dangerous. If you trust and they betray, you die for your faith. If they trust and you betray, they die for theirs. So tell me, dear travelers—what do you believe about each other? What do you believe about yourselves?"
Two figures in hooded robes appeared beside them.
"You will be taken to your chambers now," Evangeline said, clapping her hands together with childlike excitement. "Remember—gold for life, silver for death. Choose for your companion, not yourself. And choose quickly—the poison works swiftly, and there is no time for lengthy deliberation."
Before Erel could say anything to Adren, the robed figures had separated them, leading them through different doorways. Erel found himself in a small, circular room with walls of polished black stone. In the center sat a simple table with two chalices—gold and silver, gleaming in the strange light.
The choice was brutally clear. Gold would save Adren's life. Silver would end it.
Erel stared at the chalices, his mind racing. The burning in his chest was getting worse, but his thoughts were crystal clear.
Think, he told himself. Think logically about this.
Adren's confession on the bridge echoed in his mind: I always choose survival. Mine first. The raw admission had seemed genuine at the time, but now Erel found himself questioning everything.
What if it was all an act? What if he's been manipulating me this entire time?
The possibility sent a chill through him. Constructs were designed to be convincing, to mimic human emotion perfectly. What if Adren's sudden vulnerability, his confession of fear and guilt, had all been calculated? What if he'd seen Erel's growing suspicion and decided to play a different game?
The sweet talk on the bridge, Erel thought, his hands trembling as he stared at the chalices. All that talk about being scared, about making mistakes. What if he was just trying to make me sympathize with him? Make me trust him?
It made perfect sense from a strategic standpoint. If Adren suspected that Erel might choose to kill him, the smart move would be to appear vulnerable and human. To confess fears and guilt that would make Erel more likely to choose the cure. Classic manipulation—make the target feel like they understand you, like you're not a threat.
And then, when I choose gold for him out of misplaced trust, he chooses silver for me. I die thinking he was my friend, and he walks away with the cure.
The logic was flawless. Cold, calculating, and exactly what a sophisticated construct might do when faced with exposure.
But what if he really is human? a small voice in the back of his mind whispered. What if those emotions were real?
Erel shook his head violently. He couldn't afford sentiment. Not here, not now. The trials had been designed to test them, to push them to their limits. It made perfect sense that the final challenge would involve a construct sophisticated enough to perfectly mimic human emotion and vulnerability.
He said he always chooses survival first. That's the one thing he told me that I can actually believe. So what would a survival-focused person do in this situation?
The answer was obvious. Adren would choose silver for Erel while making Erel believe he was choosing gold. It was the perfect betrayal disguised as friendship.
He's probably in there right now, Erel thought, choosing to kill me while counting on the fact that his little performance made me trust him enough to save his life.
The more Erel thought about it, the more certain he became. The timing of Adren's confession had been too convenient, too perfectly calculated to make Erel sympathize with him. Real humans didn't break down so strategically. Real humans didn't reveal their vulnerabilities so precisely when it would be most advantageous.
I'm not going to be the fool who dies because he believed a construct's sob story.
Erel's hand closed around the silver chalice, his grip firm with conviction. If Adren was going to betray him, he would be ready. If they both chose silver, they would both drink gold and survive. It was the logical choice, the smart choice, the choice that prioritized survival over sentiment.
The silver chalice felt cold in his hands, but his resolve was absolute. He had made his choice based on logic, not emotion. On survival, not trust.
Whatever happened next, he would be ready for it.
When he emerged from the chamber, Adren was already waiting in the main room, standing before Evangeline. Their eyes met across the space, and Erel thought he saw something desperate in Adren's gaze.
Perfect, Erel thought grimly. Even now, he's trying to look like the victim.
"Excellent," Evangeline purred. "You have both made your choices. Now comes the moment of revelation."
Two obsidian cups appeared on the altar, filled with liquid that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
"Drink," Evangeline commanded. "Drink what your companion has chosen for you."
They approached the altar simultaneously. Erel lifted one obsidian cup while Adren took the other. The liquid inside was odorless, giving no hint of what it contained.
"To the end of all trials," Evangeline said mockingly.
They drank.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Erel felt a warm, spreading sensation in his chest—the poison being neutralized, his strength returning. The cure. Adren had given him the cure.
Beside him, Adren suddenly gasped and dropped his cup. It shattered on the stone floor as he fell to his knees, his face contorting in agony.
"No," Erel breathed, the silver chalice falling from his numb fingers as the horrible truth crashed over him. "No, no, no—"
"Ah," Evangeline said, clapping her hands together in delight. "How absolutely perfect. The paranoid human chooses survival while the trusting human chooses sacrifice. Such delicious irony."
Adren collapsed completely, and Erel caught him, pulling him close. Blood was already flecking Adren's lips, his face going deathly pale.
"Why?" Erel whispered desperately. "Why did you choose the cure?"
"Because..." Adren's voice was weak but steady. "Because I trusted you. Because I thought... I hoped you might choose to save me too."
The words hit Erel like a physical blow. "You knew what you were choosing. You knew it was life or death."
"Of course I knew." Adren coughed, more blood staining his lips. "I chose to give you life, Erel. I chose to trust that you'd do the same for me."
"But you said—you said you always choose survival first—I thought you were a construct…"
Evangeline's laughter filled the chamber, musical and cruel. "Oh, this is simply divine! The poor, trusting human, choosing love over logic. Choosing faith over survival. How wonderfully, pathetically mortal of you."
"Shut up," Erel snarled, not taking his eyes off Adren.
"But why should I?" Evangeline continued, circling them like a predator. "This is the most entertaining trial I've witnessed in decades. A human, so convinced of his companion's artificiality, condemns his friend to death while that same friend sacrifices himself out of pure, misguided love."
Something was breaking inside Erel's chest—not the poison, but something deeper. Something fundamental about who he thought he was and what he thought he understood.
"You were human all along," he whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
"Of course I was." Adren's voice was getting weaker. "I tried to tell you, in my own way. But you'd already made up your mind about what I was."
The realization was devastating. All this time, he'd been so convinced that Adren was a construct, the one who couldn't be trusted. But Adren had been human all along. He had chosen to save him even knowing Erel might not do the same.
"I have a sister," Adren said suddenly, his voice urgent despite his weakness. "Mira. She's trapped in our family home. Cursed. You need to save h-her, please…"
"Adren—"
"Promise me." Adren's hand gripped Erel's with surprising strength. "Promise me you'll find her. Save her. Give her the life I couldn't."
"I promise," Erel said without hesitation.
"She has my eyes," Adren continued, a small smile playing at his lips despite the pain. "And this laugh that could make anyone's day better. She used to read to me when I was sick... fantasy novels about heroes who always saved the day."
"Tell Mira... tell her I tried. That I never stopped thinking about her. That I'm sorry I couldn't come home."
"I'll tell her," Erel promised. "I'll save her. I swear."
"And Erel?" Adren's voice was getting weaker. "Don't let this break you. Don't let my death make you afraid to trust again. Mira... she'll need someone who can still believe in people."
"I don't know how to trust anymore," Erel admitted. "I just killed the one person who trusted me completely."
"You'll learn." Adren's eyes were closing. "Because that's what humans do. We make mistakes, terrible ones, and then we have to figure out how to live with them. How to be better."
His hand went limp in Erel's grip.
Erel sat there, holding the body of the man he had murdered, and felt something fundamental shatter inside him. The careful logic he'd used to justify his choice, the paranoia that had driven him to kill rather than trust—all of it crumbled in the face of one simple truth.
Adren had been human. And Erel had repaid that fact with poison.
"How absolutely exquisite," Evangeline said, her voice filled with satisfied cruelty. "The look on your face, dear Erel, is worth a thousand lesser entertainments. The moment when certainty becomes horror, when logic becomes guilt—it's simply divine."
Erel looked up at her, and for the first time since entering the trials, his eyes held something that made even the Paradox Bride pause. Not fear or desperation, but a cold, burning hatred.
"You're proud of this," he said quietly.
"Oh, I didn't make you do anything," Evangeline replied with a wave of her hand. "I simply provided the circumstances. You chose to murder him all on your own. Such a delightfully selfish little creature you are, assuming the worst in others while justifying your own cruelty as 'logic.'"
"Because you designed it that way. Because you wanted this outcome."
"I wanted to see what you would choose when faced with perfect clarity. And you chose exactly as I predicted—survival over sacrifice, fear over trust." Her smile was radiant and terrible. "You humans are so wonderfully predictable in your selfishness. Even when someone loves you enough to die for you, you cannot bring yourself to return that faith."
"Adren wasn't selfish."
"No," Evangeline agreed, looking down at Adren's still form with something like fondness. "He was beautifully, tragically human. Which is why he's dead and you're not."
Erel gently closed Adren's eyes, his hands shaking with grief and rage. "What happens now?"
"Now?" Evangeline's smile widened. "Now you have the honor of meeting the master of this house. Lord Bluebeard is most eager to make the acquaintance of our final survivor."
The name sent a chill through Erel that had nothing to do with the trials he'd just endured. Bluebeard. The collector of brides, the killer of wives, the monster whose very name was synonymous with hidden horrors.
"He's been watching your progress with great interest," Evangeline continued. "Particularly this final trial. He so rarely gets to witness such... educational betrayals."
Erel stood slowly, Adren's blood still warm on his hands. He had survived the trials, but the cost was beyond measure. He had learned what it meant to become a monster.