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The room is blinding white.
You squint, your hand shielding your eyes until the brightness fades.
The walls are covered in names.
Thousands.
Yours is there, too—written over and over in different handwriting.
Some are scratched out, others circled. Some are glowing. A few are bleeding.
In the center of the room is a table.
On it, a single black notebook. Next to it, a red pen.
The cover reads: "To name it is to claim it."
You approach, your fingers trembling as you open the book.
Inside, names and labels pour across the pages:
"Liar"
"Hero"
"Monster"
"Coward"
"Victim"
"Manipulator"
"Savior"
"Lost Cause"
You hear a whisper:
"Which name do you hide behind?"
The air thickens.
The pages start to turn on their own, faster, faster, until they stop at a blank page.
There, you see your own face, reflected in the white of the page.
Your hand moves without you.
The pen touches the paper.
You're about to write.
But what?
---
The Eighteenth Choice:
Do you:
A) Write the name others gave you, the one you never wanted.
B) Write a name you believe you deserve.
C) Leave the page blank. You are not a name.
D) Write a false name, to see what happens.
The pen glows faintly in your hand.
You feel a surge of energy—or fear—as the decision forms in your heart.
Somewhere, someone says your name aloud.
But not the one you wrote.
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Quiz 18:
Which label do you fear the most?
A) Weak
B) Fake
C) Unlovable
D) Forgotten
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The book slams shut.
The names on the wall peel away like dried skin.
The room begins to dissolve into ink.
You fall again—but this time, you fall into your own name.
And it swallows you whole.
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End of Chapter 18