Lady XIII's silver eyes glittered with sudden, sharp amusement—the first true emotion Agung had seen from her. She pushed off the counter, her long form unfolding with unnatural grace.
"Indeed," Lady XIII purred, her voice gaining a dangerous resonance. She wasn't merely talking about the conversation; she was initiating a trial. "You have taken the Fool's path, which means you must immediately confront the chaos it invites. And now... the judgment begins."
The Trial of the Fool
The world instantly shattered.
The warm, chili-scented reality of the Overworld Restaurant dissolved into a swirling vortex of black and deep violet. Igor, mid-spoonful of Gulai Kambing, remained utterly placid, observing the scene with silent interest.
Agung found himself standing not on his kitchen tile, but on a fractured, obsidian floor. The aroma of his cooking was replaced by the metallic tang of fear and despair.
In his hand, suddenly materialized and heavy, was a chef's knife—not his preferred wok spatula, but a formidable slicing knife, sharp and demanding.
Towering before him was his Shadow.
It was a grotesque, shimmering reflection of Agung's inner fears and failures: an exaggeratedly obese figure, wrapped in a tattered, stained apron, its face contorted into a mask of pathetic regret and resentment. It smelled of stale sweat and wasted potential.
"Look at you, Agung Wibowo!" the Shadow roared, its voice a hateful distortion of his own thoughts. "A failed chef, a lonely otaku, hiding from real life behind pixels and comfort food! You think you're a hero? You think you're the Fool? You are nothing but the pathetic Servant, cleaning up other people's problems because you can't face your own!"
The Shadow thrust its own shadowy, twisted knife forward. "You risk damnation for strangers! You ignore the mess of your own life! Admit it, Agung: you help them because it makes you feel like less of a failure! You are weak!"
The Star's Resolve
Agung looked at the Shadow, and for the first time, he didn't feel shame or fear. He felt a deep, profound pity, mixed with the quiet resolve of his newly claimed Arcana. He smiled—not the nervous twitch of the past, but a genuine, knowing grin.
He didn't raise the knife to fight. Instead, with a flourish, he tossed the heavy slicing knife into the air, letting it clatter harmlessly onto the obsidian floor between them.
"You are absolutely right, buddy," Agung said calmly, folding his arms. The accusation of the Shadow had no sting. "I am weak. I am a lonely otaku. And I am probably using this to escape my mediocre life."
Agung took a step forward. "But here's the thing about weakness: it makes you empathize. I had the chance to hide, but I choose to help. I choose to feed those pure souls—those kids, those traumatized women—because I know what that pain is. And that choice is the only thing that matters in this mess."
He spread his arms wide, the vision of the Star Arcana burning in his mind.
"I will help guide them, not as a perfect hero, but as a flawed human. That is my true path, Shadow. I am the Star."
"That cheap prophecy of yours is a fluke!" the Shadow shrieked, recoiling from the lack of resistance. "A random number, a pathetic wish! You are just a man with an apron!"
Agung's smile widened, now possessing the strange, eternal confidence of the newly enlightened. He glanced over his shoulder at the barely visible figure of Lady XIII, and then at Igor.
"Maybe," Agung conceded. "But destiny is a funny thing, Shadow. I am the Fool, the potential. I have accepted the guidance of Death (Lady XIII), the inevitability of change. I have chosen the path of the Star, the guidance of hope."
He finished, tapping his finger on his own chest, the core of his new reality solidifying.
"And you know what the third card is, don't you? The one that unites the journey and the potential? I have the ultimate environment now. I have Death, Star, and the World. My journey has just begun, and your time is over."
The Shadow wavered, the force of Agung's full acceptance of his own flaws and his new role causing it to break apart. It wasn't defeated in combat, but in acceptance. The dark vision dissolved, and Agung found himself back in the warm, chili-scented reality of his restaurant.
Lady XIII stood where she had been, now leaning casually against the counter. She clapped her hands together—a slow, single clap that was both patronizing and genuinely impressed.
"Remarkable, Fool," she drawled. "Accepting your Shadow without violence. Very Jungian. Very... Star."