CHAPTER 12: THE MAN WHO NEVER CAME HOME
CHAPTER 12: THE MAN WHO NEVER CAME HOME
Victor was alive.
Not a memory.
Not a photograph.
He stood beneath a crimson sky, his face older, harder, marked by scars that no ordinary life could have given him.
For a long moment...
Neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't the smile I remembered.
It carried exhaustion.
The kind that belonged to someone who had survived too many years alone.
"You've grown old."
I almost laughed.
"So have you."
Victor looked down at the woman lying at his feet.
She didn't move.
Her long dark hair covered part of her face.
A silver pocket watch rested in her hand.
The same watch.
My breath caught.
"Mother?"
Victor slowly shook his head.
"No."
Relief lasted less than a second.
"Then who is she?"
Victor answered quietly.
"Your future."
The battlefield trembled.
The red sky cracked like broken glass.
Brother Thomas's voice echoed from somewhere beyond the vision.
"Adrian!"
"Don't believe everything you see!"
Victor heard him too.
He smiled sadly.
"He always says that."
"You can hear him?"
"I hear everyone."
His eyes met mine.
"The Trial doesn't show you illusions."
"It shows you possibilities."
I looked around.
The battlefield stretched to the horizon.
Ruined towers.
Burning forests.
Broken statues.
Thousands of fallen soldiers.
None wore modern uniforms.
Some carried swords.
Others rifles.
Others weapons I couldn't even recognize.
"What happened here?"
Victor slowly walked forward.
"I failed."
"You failed at what?"
"Keeping the final door closed."
My heart pounded.
"So this..."
"...hasn't happened yet?"
"No."
"It will."
"If you make the same choices."
The ground shook violently.
A massive shadow moved across the red sky.
Too large to be a bird.
Too silent to be an aircraft.
I looked up.
Clouds swallowed it before I could see clearly.
Victor noticed.
"You don't have much time."
"Then answer me."
"Is our mother alive?"
His expression softened.
"Yes."
Hope surged through me.
"Where is she?"
Victor looked toward the distant mountains.
Then whispered,
"I've spent sixteen years trying to reach her."
"You never did?"
"I always arrived one step too late."
A cold wind swept across the battlefield.
The woman on the ground suddenly opened her eyes.
They were gray.
Just like Mother's.
She looked directly at me.
"Run."
Victor spun around.
"No!"
Too late.
A black spear burst through his chest.
Blood splattered across the ruined earth.
I rushed toward him.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Dark figures emerged from the smoke.
Hundreds of them.
Their faces hidden beneath silver masks.
The Council.
Victor fell to one knee.
Still smiling.
"They're always..."
He coughed blood.
"...earlier..."
The vision shattered.
I stumbled backward into the trial chamber.
My breathing was ragged.
Brother Thomas caught my shoulder before I fell.
"You saw him."
I nodded.
"He dies."
Brother Thomas closed his eyes.
"Or he already did."
The ancient voice echoed again.
Second Trial complete.
Truth restored: 41%.
Forty-one percent.
More than before.
Yet less than half.
The final stone door remained closed.
Choice.
Before anyone could move...
The silver pocket watch in my hand sprang open.
A tiny folded map emerged from a hidden compartment.
I unfolded it carefully.
It showed the underground complex.
Not just Levels One through Four.
There was another section.
Much deeper.
A place no blueprint had ever revealed.
Written in my mother's handwriting:
THE SANCTUARY
A single red circle marked its location.
Beside it...
Three words.
She's waiting here.
My pulse quickened.
Mother.
Alive.
Somewhere beneath the mountain.
Brother Thomas stared at the map.
"I've searched for that place my entire life."
"You've never found it?"
"It doesn't always exist."
"What does that mean?"
"The Sanctuary only appears..."
He hesitated.
"...when the mountain chooses."
A loud metallic clang echoed through the chamber.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The sound came from above.
People were running.
Shouting.
Gunfire.
Julian.
Elias.
Helena.
The battle had reached the lower levels.
Brother Thomas looked upward.
"They've found the Trial Hall."
"We have to go."
I shook my head.
"Not yet."
Only one door remained.
Choice.
The final trial.
As I stepped toward it...
The door opened by itself.
No battlefield.
No meadow.
Only a long corridor lined with mirrors.
Hundreds of mirrors.
Each reflected a different version of me.
A child.
An old man.
A soldier.
A prisoner.
A king.
At the end of the corridor stood a single figure.
His back turned toward me.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit.
Slowly...
He turned around.
My breath stopped.
It was me.
Not similar.
Not my reflection.
Me.
Older.
Perhaps fifty.
His hair streaked with gray.
His eyes carried unbearable sadness.
He smiled faintly.
"I've been waiting for you."
I whispered,
"Who are you?"
He answered with chilling calm.
"I'm the man you'll become..."
He paused.
"...if you save your mother."
Silence.
Then he added the sentence that changed everything.
"Because if she lives..."
"...Julian dies."
May you like
The mirrors around us shattered all at once.
END OF CHAPTER 12
