Phantom Truths
Day 4 – Isolation and Mistrust
Time Fractures
Eris woke up to the sound of wind howling through the ruins. The cold gnawed at her bones, sharper than before. She pushed herself upright, blinking against the dim light filtering through their shelter's cracks.
Something was wrong.
Ash wasn't there.
Her breath hitched as she scanned the room. His watch—cracked but reliable—still lay near the sigil. But the weight of his presence was gone. The walls pressed in, colder, emptier.
She stumbled outside. The frost-covered ground crunched under her boots as she called out, "Ash?"
No answer.
The streets of Eterna stretched before her, a maze of shifting ruins. But something was different today.
The city was… still.
Not frozen in time, not rearranging itself—just unnervingly quiet, as if waiting for something to unfold.
And then, it did.
A flood of memories surged through her mind.
Betrayal.
Ash's eyes, cold and distant. His voice, laced with regret.
"I didn't have a choice."
Pain bloomed in her chest—not physical, but raw, jagged, and suffocating.
Eris gasped, staggering backward.
No. No, that wasn't right. That didn't happen.
Did it?
Her mind spun, fragments of the past warping and twisting. The trial, the decision, Ash leaving her behind—
Except… that wasn't real.
She pressed a trembling hand to her temple. But the memory felt real. As vivid as any nightmare. And if she felt it—if the pain of betrayal was seared into her mind—
Then Ash must have felt it too.
---
Ash's Perspective – A Shattered Bond
Ash gritted his teeth, knuckles white as he clutched his dagger.
He couldn't stop shaking.
Shade—lying broken, looking at him with disbelief, betrayal cutting deeper than any wound.
"I thought we were partners. How could you?."
He had turned on her. He had—he had—
He stumbled through the frozen streets, gasping for air. But no matter how far he walked, the weight didn't lift.
He had done it.
Hadn't he?
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to separate truth from illusion. But the memory was too sharp, too raw. He could see it. Feel it.
The sentinels had whispered doubt into his ears before. But this?
This wasn't a whisper. This was a certainty lodged in his chest like a dagger.
Shade wouldn't forgive him. She shouldn't forgive him. Lirien would be disappointed. How could he do such a thing?
He needed to go.
Needed to get away before he could hurt her again.
---
Fragmented Trust
Eris found Ash on a desolate street, standing still, lost in thought.
His shoulders were tense, his hands curled into fists. He looked like he was waiting for a fight.
The sight of him sent a fresh pang of hurt through her chest. She hesitated—just for a second.
What if the memories were true?
What if she was making a mistake?
She swallowed the doubt.
No. She knew what this place was.
Eterna was a training ground.
It didn't just test their survival skills. It tested them. Their minds, their trust, their ability to hold onto the truth.
She took a breath and ran.
Ash barely had time to react before she tackled him, knocking him off balance. His dagger skidded across the ice. He tensed beneath her, breath ragged.
"Shade,I—" His voice was hoarse. "I—"
She didn't let him finish.
A quick strike to the back of his neck, precise but controlled. Enough to knock him out without hurting him too badly.
"I'll explain later," she muttered under her breath.
She pushed herself up and summoned her magic, ice creeping beneath her fingertips. The frost stretched outward, forming a rough but sturdy platform. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
Carefully, she dragged Ash onto the makeshift ice bed, then started pulling him back toward their shelter.
---
Truth and Realization
By the time Ash stirred, they were back in their temporary base.
Eris sat beside him, arms crossed, waiting.
Ash groaned, rubbing his temple. "Did you—"
"Yeah," she said flatly. "Knocked you out."
He blinked, his expression shifting between confusion and something unreadable.
Then, his breath hitched. "Shade, I—"
"Shut up."
Ash flinched.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "We need to compare memories."
Slowly, they went through what they had "remembered."
And it didn't take long to realize the truth.
The memories weren't real.
They had been implanted.
Crafted with precision, designed to feel just real enough to breed doubt. To drive them apart.
Eterna wasn't just warping space and time. It was warping them.
Eris exhaled. "We can't let this happen again."
Ash clenched his fists. "How do we stop it?"
She didn't have an answer.
Not yet.
But one thing was clear:
Their minds were their greatest enemy here.
---
Lesson of the Day
Mistrust, doubt, and fear were more dangerous than any shifting street or time loop.
The sentinels didn't need to attack them physically.
They only needed to make them question each other.
And next time?
They might not be able to stop it in time.
---
Saria's Notes:
Eterna's trials are escalating. It's not just warping their surroundings—it's rewriting their perception of reality.
Ash is too vulnerable to emotional manipulation. His guilt makes him an easy target.
Shade is developing an instinct for recognizing what's real—but she hesitated. Next time, hesitation might cost her.
They need a countermeasure. Something to remind them of the truth before it's too late.
Day 5 – A Line in the Ice
The first thing Eris noticed when she woke up was the cold.
Not the usual creeping chill of Eterna, but a deeper, more insidious cold—one that seeped into her bones, coiling tight around her lungs. She shifted, the frost-covered stone beneath her cracking softly, and sat up with a shiver.
The fire was gone. Not even embers remained.
She blinked the exhaustion from her eyes, scanning the dim shelter. Nothing had changed, yet everything felt… thinner. The walls, the floor, even the air—it was as if the city itself was watching, waiting for them to step outside.
Near the entrance, Ash sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring at the ground. He didn't look up.
Eris pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and moved closer, nudging his arm. "Ash."
No response.
She tried again, softer this time. "We need a plan."
A long breath escaped him, slow and controlled. Then, finally—"Yeah. We do."
---
Drawing the Line
They sat opposite each other, a single dim lightstone between them. Shadows flickered against the walls, twisting and stretching as they spoke.
"We can't keep doing this." Ash's voice was low, rough with exhaustion. "Every time we think we're in control, the city pushes harder. First the loops, then the memories… what's next?"
Eris chewed the inside of her cheek, tracing patterns in the frost with her fingertips. " We need a way to fight back. We need proof. Something to confirm what's real before we leave the shelter."
Ash nodded. "Writing things down?"
She hesitated. It was the obvious answer, but… "What if it alters our notes?"
His fingers tightened against his knee. "Then we need two layers. Something physical and something mental."
Eris stilled.
A memory surfaced—a sigil. A lingering image from past sketches, symbols that felt right but had no explanation.
She reached for a broken stone and dragged it across the frozen floor, carving three interlocking marks into the ice.
One for the past. One for the present. One for the self.
"This is an anchor," she murmured, running her fingers over the fresh lines. "A fixed point. If we record memories inside this, the city might not be able to twist them."
Ash leaned forward, studying the sigil. "And if we leave?"
"We draw another." She tapped her temple. "One on ourselves. A personal anchor. If something changes, we check it first."
A pause. Then, without a word, Ash took the stone from her and carefully traced the symbol onto his wrist.
His movements were slower, more deliberate. When he finished, he met her gaze.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Let's test it."
Eris let out a slow breath. "Hope it works."
Because if the city could break this, they would have to find more options.
---
Morning Preparations
They reinforced their anchors before stepping out. The plan was simple—move fast, avoid familiar paths, and test the sigils in active danger.
The city didn't give them a chance to ease in.
---
The Hunt Begins
Three hours in, the temperature dropped sharply. Frost crept up their boots, turning the streets into a death trap. Every building they tried to enter collapsed instantly, forcing them back onto the open streets.
Then came the shadows.
They started subtly—distorted reflections in broken glass. Then they moved, stretching unnaturally, latching onto their reflections.
The moment it touched Eris's shadow, her thoughts blurred—had they already passed this street? Had she been here before?
Ash ripped her back before it could fully take hold, his time distortion creating a gap just long enough for her to regain focus.
"Don't let them touch your reflection!" he snapped.
Easier said than done.
---
The Chase
The city tightened its grip. Streets looped back into each other, forcing them into corridors filled with sentient shadows. The more they ran, the worse it got.
Ash slowed time again—just enough to let them dodge an incoming attack—but the strain showed. His nose bled, his hands shook.
Eris barely had time to think. She threw down three anchors, the sigils burning cold against the ice.
The shadows shrank back. The city's twisting stalled.
For three seconds.
Then the anchors cracked, and the city retaliated.
---
The Fight Back
No more running.
Eris pressed a hand to her temple, reinforcing her personal anchor—past, present, self. The weight in her mind steadied. No false memories. No illusions.
Ash staggered but managed to grab onto her sigil marks, using them as his own fixed point.
One second. Two seconds.
The city didn't like that.
The buildings folded inward, trying to crush them outright.
Ash took one look at the narrowing walls and froze time completely.
It wouldn't last.
Eris pushed the sigils outward, forcing them into the ice beyond their little pocket of safety. She didn't just stop the city—she rooted it, holding the space still for just long enough.
The walls stopped moving. The loop broke.
The sentients hissed and vanished, retreating deeper into the city.
---
Aftermath
They didn't speak for a while. Just sat against a frozen wall, catching their breath.
Ash wiped his face, the last traces of blood smeared across his wrist. "That was bad."
Eris traced the sigil on her arm. "But it worked."
Barely.
The silence stretched. Their limbs ached, breath misting in the frigid air. Every muscle in Eris's body screamed for rest, but her mind refused to settle.
Ash let out a sharp exhale and pressed a hand to his temple. "That was the worst one yet."
"Yeah," she muttered. Then, a quieter thought slipped through: And it's only getting worse.
Her fingers tightened over the sigil. How long could they keep this up?
The cold pressed against them. The city had stopped its attack for now, but it hadn't lost. It was waiting. Calculating. Adjusting.
They needed to move.
Eris forced herself to stand, legs unsteady beneath her. "Come on," she murmured. "Before it changes again."
Ash dragged himself up without a word. His usual sharpness was dulled, exhaustion clinging to him like frost. They both felt it—the slow, creeping wear of this place grinding them down.
They needed answers.
Tomorrow could be worse.
---
Saria's Notes:
Ash's time control is improving, but reckless. He's pushing past safe limits.
Shade's sigils are stabilizing the city, but inconsistently. Some hold, some don't.
They are more cautious than the previous days. They had to be.
The city responds to fear. Stability must be created, not found.
---
Reflection & Realization
The silence on the way back felt different this time. Heavier. Not just exhaustion, but something deeper—something shifting.
Eris traced the sigil on her arm, its faint outline still cool against her skin. They had survived again. Fought back again. But for what?
"Ash," she muttered, breaking the quiet. "How long are we supposed to stay here?"
His breath curled in the cold air. He didn't answer immediately. "Until we learn what Saria wants us to."
Eris frowned. "And what is that, exactly?"
No answer.
That was the problem. They had been running since day one, reacting to whatever the city threw at them. But to what end? Every time they thought they understood the rules, Eterna changed them. Every time they made progress, something pulled them back.
She exhaled sharply, frustration creeping in. "What if there's no way out?"
Ash slowed, glancing at her. "Saria wouldn't do that."
Wouldn't she?
They had trusted her—followed her instructions blindly. But what did they really know about this place? Why were they here?
Eterna wasn't just testing them. It was responding to them. Feeding off something.
Fear. Doubt. Struggle.
And what happened when they stopped playing along?
Eris's fingers curled. "We need to stop running."
Ash gave her a wary look. "You want to let the city catch us?"
"No." She shook her head. "I want to stop reacting and start testing. Figure out the rules. Find a weakness. Control something."
The words settled between them, heavy but certain.
They had spent five days surviving. That needed to change.
By the time they reached their shelter—what was left of it, at least—Eris had made up her mind.
Tomorrow, they would stop playing this city's game.
Tomorrow, they would carve stability into Eterna—whether the city allowed it or not.