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The flowers went on forever.
Kathlyn had no idea how long she'd been walking.
There were no shadows to track the sun. No change in the wind or light. No birds, no insects, not even a breeze to stir the perfect stillness. Only the steady rhythm of her boots through the meadow step after step, minute after minute, hour after hour.
The silence was unbearable.
But she refused to stop.
She'd left the altar behind its blank surface and half-told story still burning in her mind. The tale of a girl who had nothing, lost everything, and faded into the dirt. It wasn't a lesson. It wasn't an inspiration.
It was a warning.
And Kathlyn had spat in its face.
So she walked. Not out of strategy or plan, but spite.
> "This place wants me to feel small," she muttered. "Wants me to doubt myself. Wants me to crumble quietly. Like her."
Her voice didn't sound right here. It echoed strangely, without any walls. Like the words reached the air but didn't settle into it.
She flinched slightly at the sound.
It made her feel lonely.
But she didn't take it back.
She didn't need a cheering squad. She didn't need a partner. She'd trained alone, studied alone, fought alone.
Just because the others whispered didn't mean they mattered. Just because he hadn't been invited didn't mean she regretted it.
Her jaw tightened.
> Kai.
She tried not to think about him.
But it was impossible not to.
Ever since their match with Rose, she had started to see him differently. Not as a buffoon. Not as a pervert. Not even as an overly dramatic fanboy pretending to be helpful.
But as someone who meant it.
Every time he trained. Every time he fell and got back up. Every time he smiled at her like she was someone worth following.
She didn't know what to do with that.
No one had ever looked at her like that before. Not her classmates. Not her teachers. Not even all those that had connfesed with eyes filled with lust yes he had the same look in his eyes but on his their was also...
She shut the thought down.
It didn't matter.
He wasn't here.
She was.
And the Prism this quiet, cursed, suffocatingly peaceful place was still watching.
She could feel it.
That same pressure, the same awareness she had felt at the altar. It wasn't malevolent. It wasn't welcoming either. It was just there. A second skin. A second mind. A second expectation.
Not hostile. Not kind.
Just… waiting.
She passed more hills. More flower fields. Occasional white-blossomed trees that offered no shade and cast no shadows.
Everything around her remained exactly the same.
Her mana was steady. Her steps were firm. Her muscles didn't ache.
But her heart?
Her heart was screaming.
> Where's the trial? Where's the danger? Where's the point?
She changed direction. Tried veering northwest. Tried retracing steps. Adjusted her pace. Maybe it was testing her navigation. Or her patience. Or her willpower.
But she already knew
She'd circled back twice.
Everything looked the same.
Even the damn flowers.
She dropped to one knee beside a cluster and stared.
Up close, they were too perfect. Not a wilted petal. Not a bent stem. Each bloom was identical. Flawless.
Unnatural.
She reached out and touched one.
It felt… soft. Not waxy. Not cold. Like memory. Like a faded dream trying to pretend it still existed.
She pulled her hand away.
And stood.
> "No threat. No challenge. Just waiting."
That scared her more than any monster.
It wasn't the danger that haunted her. It was the possibility that there was nothing here at all.
That this wasn't a place to overcome.
It was a place to surrender.
To sit in the grass, stare at the painted sky, and fade away.
Just like the girl in the story.
Kathlyn clenched her fists.
> "No."
This field wouldn't break her. Not like that.
If there was no trial, she would find one.
If there was no monster, she would summon one.
If this realm wanted her to surrender, then it would have to drag her down kicking and screaming.
She picked a direction at random and forced herself forward.
Her breath grew tighter.
Each step echoed louder.
And the silence pressed harder.
The air wasn't changing. But she was.
Her thoughts were turning darker.
> What if there's nothing more?
What if that was the point?
A story of someone who failed. Who lost everything. Who burned. Who was forgotten.
And the lesson was: Be grateful that's not you.
She didn't accept that.
She refused.
> "No. That's not how this ends. Not for her. Not for me."
But the silence didn't argue.
It didn't even seem to care.
And that scared her more than any threat.
Please, she thought. Just give me something.
A trial. A path. A wall to punch. Anything.
She slowed.
Then stopped.
Not because she gave up.
But because… she didn't know what else to do.
The field hadn't changed.
Only she had.
And then
She saw it.
A flicker.
A glimmer of something just out of focus.
She turned her head sharply. It was gone.
Then again. Near her shoulder. A faint glow at the edge of her vision.
She spun.
This time, she caught it.
A small floating shape. No larger than her thumb.
Translucent wings. A pale halo of light. A faint, humanoid silhouette.
A fairy.
Then another.
And another.
They didn't float ahead of her.
They floated beside her.
She stared.
> "…You're not here to guide me, are you?"
They didn't answer. Didn't nod. Didn't react.
They just… accompanied.
Not heavy. Not bright. Not magical in any traditional sense.
But they were present.
She started walking again.
And they followed.
Slowly, more appeared. Little lights hovering near her head. Drifting between the petals. Dancing just out of reach.
They didn't say a word.
But for the first time since she entered the Prism…
The silence didn't feel quite so heavy.
For the first time, she didn't feel completely alone.
She didn't smile.
But felt at ease