Chapter 29: Entering the Temple of Judgment
Floor 5: The Temple of Judgment was not a city, a labyrinth, or a wilderness. It was a single, vast, empty space—a polished marble floor that stretched to a horizon of perfect, white light. The air was sterile, silent, and felt intensely judgmental.
The Ascension Gate vanished behind them, leaving them stranded in a void of ethical scrutiny.
"This floor is different," Aiden murmured, his Chronos power instantly detecting that the laws of physics were stable, but the laws of identity were fluid. "The purpose of the Temple is to test the Hunter's resolve, not their combat skills. It is designed to expose weakness, particularly regret and moral inconsistency."
Aiden's face tightened. This was the one place his strategy could not protect him. His entire life was built on a foundation of necessary regret.
A towering figure materialized at the center of the space. It was neither God nor Devil, but a being of pure, neutral energy, clad in shimmering silver armor that reflected the absolute white light of the Temple. This was the Edict, the floor's guardian.
"Hunters, welcome to the Temple of Judgment," the Edict's voice resonated without sound, speaking directly to their souls. "Your ascent has been fraught with betrayal, sacrifice, and the denial of self. This Temple will test the integrity of your Identity."
The Edict paused, its silent gaze sweeping over Rin and Aiden, focusing on the humming, green-tinged fate tether.
"You, the Nexus, carry a paradox—a weapon that demands the dissolution of consciousness. The Temple offers you three trials. Pass all three, and you may retain a degree of self-definition even after the merger. Fail, and the merger will be instantaneous, leaving behind only the cold shell of the Temporal Hurricane weapon."
The Edict raised a hand, and the marble floor before them dissolved, replaced by a smooth, mirrored black surface.
"Trial One: The Forgotten Self."
The black mirror pulsed, and then, slowly, two distinct figures began to materialize on the surface—perfect, crystalline reflections that were not of their current bodies, but of what they could have been.
One reflection showed Rin—not the hard-eyed, battle-scarred Blade, but a figure clad in immaculate white, his face serene, surrounded by a faint, warm sunlight. He held a simple, un-Rending blade, a master warrior who had found inner peace and had never known betrayal.
The second reflection showed Aiden—not the pale, tactical genius, but a man with a relaxed, honest smile, his eyes warm and brown, devoid of the cold Chronos blue. He was an Oracle of healing and strategy, a beloved mentor who had never committed the necessary crime.
These were the Forgotten Selves—the destinies they had sacrificed in the first life.
"The first trial demands acceptance," the Edict stated. "You must step onto the black mirror and merge with the image of the self you gave up. You must admit that the life you chose—the path of sacrifice and hatred—was the wrong one. Accept the original, pure destiny, and you pass."
Rin stared at his peaceful reflection, the Forgotten Blade. The temptation was agonizing—a life free of the trauma, a life where he could simply be a good man, not a weapon of vengeance.
Aiden's breath hitched. His reflection showed him the beloved friend he had always wanted to be. To admit his life of sacrifice was wrong would be to negate the entire, tragic meaning of his betrayal.
"Aiden, don't look at it," Rin whispered, his voice laced with protective panic. "It's a trick of the mind. It's what you want most."
Aiden took a single, slow step toward the reflection of his Forgotten Oracle, his expression one of yearning agony. The trial was designed to force them to break their current identities.