Chapter-37

Chapter: The Heart's Chamber

The chamber yawns open before me, its darkness different from the shadows outside. It is thick, heavy—alive. The air crackles with an unseen force, the metallic tang sharp against my senses. Power lingers here, old and waiting, stretching through the air like unseen fingers.

I step forward.

The Mad Hatter sucks in a breath.

"Are you—?" He stops himself. Of course I am.

The rabbit twitches on his shoulder, its previous fear now replaced with something else. It is no longer afraid. It is aware.

I smile slightly.

"Stay here, if you'd like," I say.

The Hatter sputters. "Stay here? While you march into an ominous, probably cursed abyss?!"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

I raise an eyebrow.

He clears his throat. "What I meant was—perhaps I'll… stand slightly behind you while you march into an ominous, probably cursed abyss."

"A noble choice."

The rabbit lets out a small huff.

---

The Descent

The threshold is cold. The moment I step inside, the shift in energy is immediate—like crossing into another existence. The hum of the monolith fades, swallowed by a deeper silence.

Not absence, but something more deliberate. Expectant.

The walls of the chamber are smooth obsidian, carved with intricate spirals and runes that pulse softly as I pass. The deeper I go, the more they glow, reacting to me.

Behind me, the Hatter mutters something about "definitely regretting this".

The path slopes downward, and soon, a dim, unnatural light begins to illuminate the way. Not torches. Not fire.

Something else.

Then, at the bottom—

A door.

Or rather, what was a door.

It is shattered, its pieces hovering midair, frozen as if stopped in time. Beyond it, a vast circular chamber, its center dominated by something I already know is waiting.

The Heart.

Not a gem. Not a relic. Not an object at all.

It breathes.

A swirling core of shifting energy, caught between states—solid, liquid, alive. It pulses, mirroring the beat of something long-forgotten. The walls around it bend and warp, as if struggling to contain its presence.

And then—

A voice.

"You are not the first to stand here."

Not a whisper. Not a sound. But a presence in my mind.

I smirk.

"I will be the last."

The Heart shudders.

The test is not over.