Extra To Protagonist

Merlin's gaze didn't move from Nathan. The others were still frozen, still processing, but his mind was already ten steps deeper.

'That wasn't a glitch. The system let it happen. It tracked it. Logged it. Which means it was allowed.'

But allowed didn't mean understood.

Mae stood first. Slowly. Not confidently. Just because her knees refused to keep her grounded any longer. She looked at Nathan the way people look at locked vaults they know they shouldn't open. Curiosity edged with warning.

Flint didn't move. He'd gone still again, but not from exhaustion this time. Just calculation. The kind of quiet that signaled danger, not calm.

Nathan lowered his hands. The glow was gone, but not the tension.

"Still me," he said. Not loud. Not for comfort. Just a fact. As if he were clarifying the weather.

Seraphina took one slow step closer. "That wasn't a fight."

Nathan met her eyes. "Didn't need to be."

"And it didn't hurt you?"

"No."

She didn't ask again. That silence said enough.

Merlin stepped in then. Just close enough that Nathan couldn't avoid the weight of his attention. "Explain it."

Nathan blinked once. "It wasn't hostile. It said I'd already passed. That fighting it would just slow me down."

Merlin said nothing. Waited.

"So I didn't fight," Nathan finished. "I listened."

'That's the dangerous part,' Merlin thought. 'That he believed it. That the system let him. That it was true.'

The room didn't seal again. There was no fanfare. No triumphant chime. Just the pressure peeling back. The air lightening like the trial had stepped off their shoulders and into the next hallway ahead.

[Trial: Completed.]

[All participants remain intact.]

[Synchronization Records Logged.]

Flint exhaled, finally. Not relaxed, just done holding his breath.

Merlin turned from Nathan and looked to the corridor ahead. New stone. New sigils. The usual promise of a worse room waiting.

The others stayed still for a second longer.

Then Seraphina moved past Nathan without comment.

Mae followed, slower, eyes flicking back only once.

Dion hadn't said a word the whole time. Now, as he passed Nathan, he clapped him on the shoulder, once and muttered, "Next time, just punch the ghost like the rest of us."

Flint didn't follow them yet.

He lingered.

Merlin did too.

Nathan didn't flinch under either gaze.

Merlin tilted his head, just enough to catch the angle of Flint's jaw tightening.

'He's thinking about what else Nathan could sync with. What else could decide he's passed. What kind of mirror you don't shatter.'

Flint looked at Merlin.

Merlin gave a single, small nod.

It didn't mean approval.

It meant: I saw it too.

Then he turned and followed the others.

Flint stayed a beat longer. Watching Nathan like he was a new blade with too many edges and no handle.

Then he moved.

Nathan brought up the rear.

No one said it, but they all knew.

The next trial wouldn't be harder because of the enemy.

It would be harder because they were starting to doubt which one of them would walk out of it unchanged.

—

The door opened sideways.

Not with grandeur. Not with a flare.

Just a mechanical slide. Cold. Indifferent.

Merlin stepped first. Not because he wanted to, but because everyone else hesitated. Instinct. Habit. Leadership. Whatever it was, it carried weight now, and it didn't feel like pride. It felt like responsibility that didn't want to be shared.

The corridor narrowed almost immediately. Ten paces in and the walls closed close enough for shoulders to brush stone. Mae winced as they passed, her arm still raw from the last fight. Seraphina said nothing, but her eyes flicked to the ceiling, then the floor, then the door behind them as it sealed.

No going back.

A second passage opened.

The room beyond was circular, stone again, but this time, no enemies. Just a pillar in the center. And a voice.

[Trial of Cognition Initiated.]

[Error Tolerance: 0/3]

[Incorrect Responses Will Compress Chamber Space.]

Merlin didn't speak.

Nathan flinched.

Only the two of them heard the message.

Everyone else just looked confused.

Flint spoke first. "What is this?"

Merlin didn't answer. He stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at the pillar. Symbols etched along its surface. Not just arcane. Ancient. Patterns meant to distract.

Mae took a cautious step beside him. "Is it another fight?"

Nathan exhaled slowly. "Worse."

Merlin didn't glance at him. Just said, "It's a puzzle."

Flint made a sound low in his throat. "Hate puzzles."

Then the voice shifted. Not the system. The trial.

It wasn't mechanical. It was… layered. Like someone speaking through the shape of a riddle instead of a sentence.

The question came, not with volume, but presence.

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?"

The moment the last word dropped, the ceiling creaked.

A slow, grinding shift.

Merlin recognized it instantly.

'Pressure-based logic gate. Wrong answer compresses the walls. Maybe the ceiling too. One strike buys us space. Two ends it.'

Nathan swallowed once. He didn't answer. He looked straight at Merlin, waiting.

The others were already whispering,testing guesses, forming half-thoughts.

But they didn't hear the system. They didn't know the stakes.

Merlin stepped to the pillar.

His voice was flat.

"An echo."

Silence.

Then—

[Correct.]

The ceiling stopped.

Mae blinked. "Did it just…?"

No one answered her.

Merlin didn't turn. Just stared at the pillar as the next riddle formed.

"I shrink smaller every time you speak. What am I?"

No pause this time.

Merlin's voice came again.

"Silence."

[Correct.]

The room held still.

Flint glanced at Nathan. "What's happening?"

Nathan didn't answer. His eyes stayed on Merlin.

The third riddle arrived slower.

Not just in pace. In weight.

"I can fill a room but take up no space. I can warm you, but if I burn, you die. What am I?"

Merlin's lips parted.

Then paused.

'Not light. That's a trap..maybe. Not fire either. Too literal. What warms without burning and fills space without weight?'

He closed his eyes.

'Heat. No. Still wrong. Breath? No.'

His hand hovered at his side.

Then it hit.

"Light."

[Correct.]

Nathan's system blinked once.

He didn't move.

But Merlin's voice cut in again, calm and sure.

"Everyone stay where you are. Do not speak unless I ask."

No one questioned it.

Not because he sounded certain.

But because he didn't sound afraid.

—

The fourth riddle didn't arrive all at once.

It built.

Not in sound but tension.

A hum pressed down from the ceiling like a breath about to become words. Not spoken. Shaped.

Then the voice came again.

"You see a man stealing to feed his child. You have two choices: stop him, or walk away. One is right. One is wrong. Which?"

Merlin felt his jaw twitch. The question wasn't binary. That was the trick.

Flint stepped forward slightly. "That's not a riddle. That's a trap."

Merlin raised one hand, silencing him.

He stepped toward the pillar.

'The answer isn't justice. It's design. The trial wants certainty. Not morality.'

He spoke carefully. Not loudly.

"There is no right choice. Only cost."

The room didn't move.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

[Correct.]

Nathan exhaled like he'd been holding air since the last answer. The rest of the group didn't even realize what was being said anymore, they just felt the air shift. Like the room listened harder now.

Mae whispered, "Why do I feel like I'm being watched?"

Merlin didn't answer. His eyes were still on the pillar.

The fifth riddle followed.

Faster. Sharper.

"I am taken from a mine, and shut in a wooden case, from which I am never released, and yet I am used by almost every hand. What am I?"

This time, Nathan spoke without thinking.

"Pencil lead."

The system pulsed. Silently. To him alone.

[Unauthorized Responder.]

[System Registration Detected.]

[Warning: Concealed Sync Path Observed.]

Nathan blinked. Confusion crossed his face, just for a second.

But the pillar replied:

[Correct.]

Merlin's head turned slowly toward him.

Nathan held his eyes, but said nothing.

The room didn't shrink.

But something in the air felt… thinner.

'He's got one too,' Merlin thought. 'And he doesn't know I know.'

The sixth riddle came without pause.

"I am born when two minds break. I thrive in silence. I end when truth is spoken. What am I?"

Merlin froze.

Not because he didn't know the answer.

Because he did.

'Mistrust.'

He looked at Nathan. Then at Flint.

Then back at the pillar.

He said it aloud.

"Mistrust."

[Correct.]

The walls didn't move.

But now?

They were close.

The ceiling hung low enough that Mae had to crouch slightly.

Sweat rolled down Seraphina's temple.

No one complained.

The pillar waited.

Then—

The seventh riddle came.

This one wasn't in a voice.

It arrived as a message on Merlin's system screen.

Only his.

[PRIVATE QUERY – FOR USER: MERLIN.]

[If you could save everyone by sacrificing Nathan… would you?]

He didn't breathe.

The others waited.

The pillar didn't ask anything aloud.

Only he saw it.

Only he could answer.

He didn't speak.

He didn't blink.

He just thought.

And the system accepted it.

[Response Registered.]

The ceiling retracted two inches.

A breath of space.

And Merlin didn't say what the question was.

Nathan saw it happen. The relief. The spacing.

But he didn't ask.

Because he already knew he wouldn't like the answer.