The minutes passed wrapped in a deceptive calm. The ruins were devoid of life, and only the echo of occasional footsteps broke the silence.
From ti to ti, distant noises reverberated through the ruins. Whispers that seed to co from the walls, a wet crack, or muffled groans that faded away.
Most of the cultists remained lying on the stone floor, subrged in their own personal trials inside the Door.
The leader stood like a statue, carefully observing every detail.
After a long, reflective silence, he turned to Gabriel and spoke in a low, almost reverent voice:
"These ruins hold ancient secrets. The inscriptions nearly erased by ti contain truths this world has forgotten. The columns... are witnesses to an imnsity that surpasses our understanding. Value them."
Gabriel kept an eye on two things at once.
He watched the sleepers, counting their breaths and listening to the accelerated heartbeats that seed to resonate with indescribable terror.
At the sa ti, his eyes scanned the ruins: cracks in the flagstones, black vines that moved almost imperceptibly, and symbols carved into stone that seed frozen in ti.
He remained aware of every beat of his heart, painfully conscious of how vulnerable he was here.
Ti passed this way. One by one, more mbers began to wake up.
So sat up gasping, eyes wide and skin pale. Others remained motionless.
Gabriel imdiately noticed when their hearts stopped beating.
It was a subtle, almost imperceptible change. A longer sigh, a final tremor in their fingers, and then nothing. Of the eighteen mbers who had entered with him, only twelve survived. Six had failed the test.
The leader showed only cold indifference toward the fallen. Not a prayer, not a gesture of mourning. He simply looked at them and declared in a neutral voice:
"Their hearts were not strong enough for our cause. The Door selects... We only accept its judgnt."
Many of the survivors were still affected. What they had faced inside their trials had left scars.
So murmured incoherently. Others touched the cold stone, trembling. They rested in shared silence, sitting in a circle, recovering their strength for the next challenges.
All of them watched the ruins with curiosity and fear as the black vines grew, twisting like living fingers.
The leader imdiately warned them: "Do not get too close to the vines. They are malevolent. They possess a primitive and instinctive consciousness; if you disturb them, they will respond."
Several mbers instinctively stepped back. Gabriel, however, approached close enough to an ancient slab to observe an inscription.
A huge bonfire where a small demon burned, while hooded figures watched from the shadows. The flas were carved with a detail that astonished him.
But they didn’t have much ti for reflection. Wasting ti was dangerous in this place.
"Continue," the leader ordered.
They advanced together, staying very close to each other in an unconscious form of protection. Their footsteps echoed in unison as the hallways multiplied into an impossible labyrinth.
The murals depicted different scenes. Cities devoured by fire, doors opening into oceans of blood, and human figures represented as gods.
The entire complex looked like a patchwork of ruins from different eras.
Mismatched columns supported ceilings that defied logic, creating an scene that defied reason and caused dizziness if observed for too long.
At that mont, Gabriel’s interface regarding the Door updated with an ominous red glow:
[Round 1: The Glade of Desires]
Beyond the narrow hallway opened a vast clearing, illuminated by an artificial light. The leader sniffed the air and raised a hand.
"Be careful."
He advanced first. The danger revealed itself almost imdiately.
The mont they set foot in the clearing, their deepest thoughts began to be spoken aloud, whispered by the wind itself.
Their hidden desires, repressed fears, and shaful ambitions. The danger appeared the instant they stepped into the glade.
Gabriel felt his body begin to tremble and sweat. In his mind, the sa thoughts repeated over and over.
Strength. Overcoming. Control. And ascension.
The voices whispered his most intimate secrets, tempting him with images of power, wealth, and security. His legs grew heavy, as if the ground were trying to swallow him.
The other mbers advanced while enduring the sa fate. So nearly bent under the weight of seeing their darkest desires exposed.
But their lives depended on their success.
Gabriel could not give in to his doubts, rembering the Patron’s words about sacrifices. Every step was an internal battle. He sweated profusely, teeth clenched, but he did not surrender.
Finally, little by little, they managed to overco the trial.
At the end of the clearing, two mbers failed. Their bodies began to rge with the ground, as if they had fallen into quicksand that swallowed them whole.
Now only ten living mbers remained, trembling and sweating, with lost gazes.
Only the leader remained indifferent, having overco the trial with relative ease, as if those whispers held no power over him.
At the end of the path stood a large mural depicting a disturbing scene.
Ancient words described how worms navigated the ocean, eternally ignorant in the black waters, directionless and lost.
Only the caterpillars strong enough to grow wings could rise above.
And witness the truth beyond the black waters.
The leader with the eclipsed sun mask observed that scene with care, almost with devotion.
Then he advanced toward the next trial with determination. The remaining mbers followed him with iron discipline.
Gabriel’s interface updated once again:
[Round 2: The Hanging Garden]
This ti, the scene was deceptively beautiful. They found themselves in a wide hall with a vaulted ceiling from which various exotic plants hung.
Mainly glowing vines in sky-blue tones that shone with a hypnotic light.
For a second, the entire group was captivated. The beauty clashed violently with the previous horror.
Even Gabriel felt a strange montary peace.
Until his instincts scread.
Sothing was wrong. Very wrong.
"Careful!" Gabriel shouted, trying to separate the group.
But one of the mbers couldn’t react in ti. A sky-blue drop, bright and perfect like a tear, detached from one of the hanging plants and fell directly onto his mask.
The instant it touched the surface, it exploded.
The detonation wasn’t sonic, but direct. A wet burst that splattered fragnts of mask and cultist in all directions.
The mber didn’t even have ti to scream. His body collapsed like an empty sack, while the nearby plants seed to absorb the blood greedily, shining with greater intensity.
Panic spread among the nine remaining mbers.
"Keep your distance!" the leader ordered, his voice firm.
"The beauty here is poison. Don’t look at the lights for too long!"
Gabriel breathed heavily, wiping a drop of soone else’s blood from his cheek.
Round two had barely begun and had already claid another life. He observed the hanging plants with new respect and fear.
Their sky-blue lights now seed to pulse with a malevolent on.
The survivors regrouped, closer than ever, but visibly broken. Ten had entered this round and now there were nine. And Gabriel knew the trials would only beco more twisted.
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