It was a lie, the quiet before the storm.
In the empty space, three pedestals stood motionless and silent, observing her as if they were gods deferring judgment.
A dagger with a black blade that glistened with ancient runes and vibrated with power beyond this world can be seen on the left. It beat. It recalled her.
A golden, elaborate ring that shines too brightly for a space this hollow sits in the center. It appeared to be salvation. Or a glittering cage.
A dark, smooth, blank, and innocent key is on the right. However, it was the realm's heaviest object. From this distance, she could sense it. As if gravity itself leaned in that direction.
Emery stood between them, her lungs hardly remembering how to breathe, her breath seizing in her throat.
It's this.
The instant the cosmos had been turning back toward.
The decision that had always been hers but wasn't just hers.
Her hands shook.
Not in terror.
Using memory.
Then—
She took a step forward.
She extended her han
