Sorn landed on a surface almost immediately after dropping through the hole. It appeared as though there was an ice pipe connected directly to the floor above. He looked around, realizing he was apparently in an empty ice cube. There was a faint hum that could be heard in the background. Sorn remembered this was the third stage, managed by the former Tournament winner Lyra. Apparently, nothing was known about her techniques, as she never engaged in combat. He could only assume the hum coming was from her harp.

He noticed that the sound of the music was coming stronger from his left. He turned in that direction and saw a hole. He walked towards it curiously. Sure enough, it seemed as though the music was coming through the hole. It had an interesting size, about the diameter of a small head. Sorn leaned into it, expecting something to happen.

For a moment, there was no change. Just as Sorn felt he should give up and refocus on something else, he felt extremely dizzy, dropping to the floor almost immediately.

As Sorn regained his senses, he found himself in the same frost covered room. However, there was now an explicable chill seeping into his bones. The faint hum that had accompanied him from the ice cube now reverberated through the area, sending shivers down his spine. He glanced around, eventually resting his eyes upon the towering figures before him. They were dressed in robes of shadow, their forms shimmering like a mirage.

The one in the middle wagged a finger, beckoning him to get closer. As Sorn obliged, the music seemed to be getting louder with every step. Sorn had many thoughts at this moment, but at best they were chaotic and fragmented.

He approached them, stopping a few steps away. They floated aside to uncover a blue button and waited. Further ahead, there was a large Rabball chained to a post. Sorn walked up to the button, and it lit up. Sorn wasn’t sure if he should press it, but before he could decide, one of the figures put their fingers through his head. It was ghostly, passing through his head rather than making actual physical contact. However, Sorn felt a searing pain in his head, falling to the ground. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. His eyes were watering and every nerve felt like it was on fire. He felt like throwing up, but he managed to collect himself as he brought himself back to his feet.

Just what kind of messed up test is this?

He noticed the button glow again, and this time he pressed it. He recoiled physically after. The Rabball was withering in pain, its shrieks overcoming even the eerie music in the background. Had the pain he just felt now been transferred upon the Rabball? He squinted his eyes, and he could just make out another of the same robed figures hovering sneakily next to the pole. The button glowed again, his hand trembling. The ghostly figures behind him loomed over with intent. The cruel expectation upon him was destroying his mental fortitude, and the background music seeped more into his skull.

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He pressed the button again, unwilling to feel the pain he had experienced before. He closed his eyes, ignoring the Rabballs shrieking. Just how many times would he have to press this button to pass this test.

Or was the answer to not press the button?

He looked at one of the figures.

Sorn: ‘What am I supposed to do here?”

it didn’t respond, only pointing to the button. It was glowing again. Sorn pushed down on it, his heart pounding. He stared blankly in front, zoning out the anguished screams mixed with the music.

Maybe this isn’t the answer.

He didn’t press the button this time it glowed, expecting this to be the answer. However, this failed. He once again felt the excruciating pain, falling over and grasping his face with his hands as he saw the figures standing above him through his fingers, continuing to watch him nonchalantly. Sorn was beginning to panic. He was in a race, and still he was nowhere near finding the right answer.

The next time the button glowed again, he pressed it the first time, then the second. Then a third time, then a fourth. It went all the way until he had pressed the button ten times. The figures had made no move. They only continued to watch him, lurking closer and farther by the inch every other second. Each press felt like a combination of a betrayal and a righteous act. He was doing as he was told after all. He was following the rules so he didn’t get punished. But the Rabball’s cries began to turn weaker and weaker, and Sorn’s resolve wavered. The music was now louder than ever, and it had gone from being an unnecessary nuisance to outright tournament.

The button glowed again and he hesitated. He felt the shadowy finger inches from his neck.

It’s fine. I don’t care anymore.

He brought his head down, slumping against the podium he was one. He was expecting to feel that same pain, but to his surprise, he instead felt a gentle hand on his arm, and he was pulled up.

He was now face to face with Lyra, the person who made this exam. His first instinct was anger, but that was quickly overcome by the relief he felt for finishing the test.

Lyra: “Congratulations outsider. You passed.”

Sorn: “What was the point of this? What were you even testing?”

Lyra: “Your tenacity and your morality. You struggled like you did because you are weak in both assets.”

Sorn: “I didn’t accomplish anything though. I just got fed up and gave in.”

Lyra: “You indeed had a poor showing. Consider your punishment to be the pain you endured and the time you lost. Perhaps you might not even be qualified to make it to the next round if enough people went before you.”

This caused Sorn to panic a bit.

Sorn: “Are you being serious? What happens then?”

This made Lyra smile.

Lyra: “Only one way to find out.”

A hole appeared from underneath Sorn once again and he went down to Varian’s floor. Lyra waved her hand as he left, and the rooms went back to exactly how it was before. The post, button, Rabball, hooded figures, and even Lyra were all gone. In another room entirely, Lyra was sitting, strumming her harp.

Lyra: “Of course this test doesn’t make sense for you. It was made for someone else.”

End.