The world swirled in Alex’s vision, light bleeding into shadows and shadows bleeding into nothingness. His ears rang as if he’d just stepped out of a concert that had gone very wrong. Slowly, his senses returned, and with them came the realization that he was no longer standing.
When Alex blinked his eyes open, he found himself lying on smooth, cold stone. The towering spire of the Rift loomed above, but the air around him was eerily still. No Warden. No glowing Aros. No Amira.
“Amira?” he called out, his voice echoing in the silence.
Panic bubbled up as he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. “Amira! Aros!”
Nothing. Just the vast, empty expanse of the Rift stretching out in every direction.
“Oh, fantastic,” Alex muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Because getting separated in a nightmare dimension always ends well.”
Before he could take another step, a soft hum filled the air. Alex turned, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a faint glow in the distance. It was coming from the spire, its light pulsating like a heartbeat.
“Great,” he muttered. “Follow the creepy light. What could possibly go wrong?”
As Alex made his way toward the spire, the hum grew louder, and with it came an odd sensation—a tugging at the edges of his mind, like a whisper just out of reach.
When he finally reached the base of the spire, he found an arched doorway carved into the black stone. The glowing light emanated from within, casting flickering patterns on the ground.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Alex said, stepping through the archway.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the world shifted. The air grew heavy, and the walls of the spire seemed to pulse with life. The whispers grew louder, filling his head with fragmented words and images—faces he didn’t recognize, places he’d never been.
“Okay, this is officially weird,” Alex muttered, his voice echoing in the strange, pulsating chamber.
As he ventured deeper into the spire, he came to a circular room with a pedestal in the center. On the pedestal rested a shimmering sphere, its surface swirling with colors that seemed to defy logic.
Drawn to it, Alex stepped closer, his hand reaching out almost involuntarily. The moment his fingers brushed the surface of the sphere, a surge of energy shot through him, and the world around him dissolved.
Suddenly, Alex was no longer in the spire. He stood in a familiar place—a street from his childhood, lined with quaint houses and blooming gardens.
“What the…” Alex muttered, turning in a slow circle.
Before he could process what was happening, he heard laughter—soft, warm, and achingly familiar.
He turned to see a figure sitting on the front steps of a house. It was his mother, her face lit up with a smile that he hadn’t seen in years.
“Mom?” Alex’s voice cracked as he took a hesitant step forward.
She looked up at him, her expression filled with warmth. “Alex, sweetheart. What are you doing here?”
His throat tightened. “I… I don’t understand. How are you—”
The words caught in his throat as he realized something was off. The scene was too perfect, too vivid. And then he remembered Aros’s warning: The Rift preys on your emotions. 
“This isn’t real,” Alex said, his voice trembling.
His mother’s smile faltered. “Alex, what are you talking about? Of course it’s real. I’m right here.”
“No,” Alex said, backing away. “You’re not. You… you died.”
The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by something cold and unrecognizable. “If you won’t stay willingly,” she said, her voice twisting into something sinister, “then you’ll stay by force.”
Before Alex could react, the idyllic scene shattered like glass, and he was yanked back into the spire. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
“Alex!”
He looked up to see Amira rushing toward him, her face pale and drawn. Behind her, Aros stood with his staff raised, his expression grim.
“Are you okay?” Amira asked, kneeling beside him.
“Define okay,” Alex said, his voice shaky. “Because I just had a heart-to-heart with a hallucination of my dead mom.”
Amira’s expression softened, but before she could respond, Aros stepped forward. “The Rift is testing you. If you succumb to its illusions, you will be lost forever.”
“Yeah, thanks for the heads-up,” Alex said, shooting him a glare. “Maybe next time, lead with that.”
Amira helped him to his feet, her hand lingering on his arm. “We need to keep moving. The longer we stay here, the worse it’ll get.”
Alex nodded, though his legs felt like jelly. “Fine. But if I see one more ghost from my past, I’m officially out.”
As they made their way deeper into the spire, the whispers grew louder, and the air grew colder. Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, and every shadow seemed to shift in the corner of his eye.
When they finally reached the next chamber, they found themselves facing a massive, ornate door. It was covered in strange symbols that seemed to writhe and shift, glowing faintly in the dim light.
“What’s behind door number two?” Alex asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Aros stepped forward, his staff glowing brighter. “The heart of the Rift. Beyond this door lies the truth you seek.”
“And what truth is that, exactly?” Amira asked, her tone wary.
Aros hesitated, his expression unreadable. “The Rift was not born naturally. It was created.”
Amira’s eyes widened. “Created? By who?”
Before Aros could answer, the door began to tremble, and a deep, resonant sound filled the chamber.
Alex took a step back. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it—this feels like a trap.”
The door creaked open, revealing a blinding light that seemed to pulse with raw energy.
“Enter,” Aros said, his voice low.
Alex glanced at Amira, his stomach twisting. “You first.”
Amira rolled her eyes but stepped forward, her determination unwavering. Alex followed, his heart pounding.
As they crossed the threshold, the light engulfed them, and the world fell away once again.