At some point, Kathlyn realized she wasn't walking alone anymore.
Not just because of the fairies, but because of something subtler. The way her chest felt tighter with every step. The way her thoughts moved slower, heavier like each one had to push through molasses. She couldn't tell exactly when it started, but somewhere after the third or fourth flicker of a fairy by her side, the weight of everything she was feeling began to… stretch.
The grief,The anger,The shame
Her memories of the altar's story burned sharper in her mind. Her frustration with this trial's silence. Her uncertainty about Kai. All of it bubbled higher and higher in her chest like the rim of a boiling pot.
She'd always prided herself on her composure. Pride was strength. Clarity was survival.
But now?
It was like every emotion was being pulled up to the surface, stripped bare and left raw.
The fairies didn't speak. They never had.
But they didn't need to.
Their presence was constant.
Leading her?
She wasn't sure.
They weren't pointing her anywhere. Not directly. But they hovered consistently in one direction, drifting just far enough ahead to keep her curious.
And that curiosity carried her toward something unexpected.
A rise. A gentle one barely more than a bump in the field. But atop that bump, past a cluster of those impossibly blue flowers, sat a single gnarled tree.
The only one she'd seen since entering this world.
It wasn't tall.
It wasn't grand.
Its bark was pale and chipped, its branches thin like bones. And tucked into the crook of its highest fork
A nest.
She knew what it was instantly.
a bundle of woven grass, bramble, and down.
But what drew her in… was what lay inside.
Eggs.
Three of them.
Round Speckled in soft gray and brown. Resting peacefully in the center of the nest like they'd never known a threat in their lives.
Kathlyn stopped walking.
The fairies stopped with her.
She stared at the nest, her breath shallow.
Why show me this?
It wasn't just strange. It was… intimate.
The nest didn't radiate power. It wasn't etched with spells. It wasn't hidden or trapped. It was exposed.
Something stirred in her chest.
An ache.
Not pain. Not longing.
Just something too wide and shapeless to name.
And then it hit her.
Hard.
These weren't just eggs.
They were bait.
Her eyes snapped left. Then right. Then skyward.
Because where there are eggs…
There's a mother.
And this wasn't an accident.
She knew the structure of trials. Even if this Prism was nontraditional, it was still a designed realm. Things appeared for a reason. Symbols mattered. Encounters meant something.
The fairies had led her here. Without words. Without promises.
To this moment.
This nest.
This choice.
"…You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, hand slowly drifting toward the hilt of her weapon.
And that's when the sky finally responded.
A shadow passed overhead.
Fast.
Huge.
She barely had time to roll backward before the wind hit the rush of air from massive wings descending from above. The tree cracked. The flowers bent flat. The fairies scattered like embers in a gale.
And then it landed.
The bird was enormous. Nearly twice her height when perched, and that was with wings folded. Its feathers shimmered with sharp gold and harsh silver—metallic and wild all at once. Its eyes were amber slits, scanning her with unblinking calculation.
A Prism Guardian.
Level 10, easily. Maybe higher.
She hadn't seen it coming.
Because it hadn't wanted her to.
She backed up slowly, posture low, not yet drawing.
"Alright," she said, voice calm, but tight. "So that's what this is."
The bird didn't move.
But its talons curled slightly against the bark of the tree. Possessive.
Protective
And something inside Kathlyn twisted at the sight.
She hadn't meant to threaten the nest. She hadn't even touched it. But the realm had brought her here and the moment she stopped moving, it pounced. This wasn't just a fight.
It was a test.
Of what?
Of her intentions?
Her will?
Her ability to hurt something that was only doing its job?
The bird spread its wings, slow and silent.
The tension in the air coiled tighter.
Kathlyn exhaled.
And realized she was trembling.
No. Not from fear.
From emotion.
Too many. Too fast.
Like the story at the altar had never stopped sinking into her bones.
Like everything she'd buried in her chest about strength, failure, trust was being forced to the surface all at once.
They were manipulating her.
The Prism.
The fairies.
Even the silence.
They weren't just showing her things.
They were pulling her apart.
And if she let them…
She'd break before she even drew her blade.
So she stepped forward.
One foot.
Then another.
And said, quietly:
"I'm not like her."
She raised her fists
"I didn't come here to burn out."
The Guardian shrieked and lunged.
Its wings stretched wide, massive and sharp, blotting out the painted sky in a blur of gold. Talons the size of blades carved toward her with surgical precision, and for a brief moment, all Kathlyn could see was feathers and fury.
But she didn't move.
Not backward
Not away
Her lips parted, and she whispered low, resolute:
"Burning Heart."
BOOM.
The air around her detonated in a surge of heat.
Flames ignited from her skin like a second body roaring red and gold, licking up her arms, wrapping her legs, swallowing the air itself. Her muscles screamed. Her vision pulsed. Her heartbeat kicked like a war drum inside her chest.
And the field bent.
The flowers around her scorched, wilting in waves beneath the sheer heat of her aura. The very ground darkened at her feet.
But she didn't notice.
She only saw the bird.
It screeched as it descended, wings tilting for a slicing arc
And Kathlyn met it head-on.
Her first leap cracked the ground.
Her fist collided with its chest mid-dive.
BOOM.
The bird staggered massive, armored, impossibly fast and still, it reeled from the hit. Its beak opened in pain. Lightning-like feathers flared from its wings and sliced across her side.
She grunted, blood trailing from her ribs.
Didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
She spun low, planted a flaming kick into the Guardian's knee joint, and followed it with an uppercut so steep and fast the feathers on its chest caught fire.
The bird screeched again.
It took to the sky, wheeling back, scanning her from above
She chased it.
Jumped.
Too high. Too reckless.
But she didn't care.
She grabbed one of its wing-feathers mid-flight used it as a handhold and dragged herself up its body like a wild animal. The flames from her spell burned straight through its outer feathers, cooking its nerves, melting mana-sensitive skin.
And then
She punched it in the head.
Once
Twice
A third time
Each blow echoed across the field like thunder.
And on the fourth, the Guardian collapsed folding mid-air, spiraling toward the ground. Kathlyn leapt clear, landing hard in a crouch as the giant bird slammed into the soil with a final, echoing boom.
Silence followed.
Smoke curled from her arms.
Her chest heaved.
And finally—her flames died down.
The Burning Heart had ended.
Her knees buckled. She caught herself on one hand, panting.
But the bird didn't move
It wasn't breathing
It was dead.
The fairies stared circling the old bark
And suddenly like somebody ripping through paper space tears open and she is sent out