"So, those gray stars aren't really Predas in general."
Nolan's head pounded. He forced himself onto his elbows. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Hinata knelt beside him, "that if it were Predas, you would have sensed the danger before you even opened the door. It would have been obvious. Like heat from a fire. Like the smell of rot before you see the corpse."
"But you walked right into it. No hesitation. No warning. Just... forward." She tapped his forehead with one finger. "That means you are not Predas."
Nolan exhaled. The pressure in his chest, the invisible weight that had been pressing down, finally began to loosen. His shoulders dropped. His jaw unclenched. He could feel his blood flowing again, warm and steady, as if something had unlocked inside him.
He sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders, testing his limbs. The ache remained, but the suffocation was gone.
"Then what am I ?" His voice was hoarse. "The weight. The crushing. Why did it push me down?" He looked at Hinata, his gray eyes narrowing. "What was that thing in there?"
"Let me answer all those," Hinata stood, brushing dust from her robes. "Before that, here is the interesting part. What happened now is really good. Of course, just as others, Predas have their own flaws. A specific one."
She began to pace, her voice taking on the rhythm of a lecturer.
"Their rationality erodes. Slowly. Over the years. They stop asking why. They stop weighing consequences. They react. They survive. But survival without thought is just... animal reflex." She paused, turning to face him. "Now you can see why I am happy? How can I imagine my Nolan as a general who cannot plan? A king who cannot deliberate? A soldier who charges every time the horn blows, even when the order is to retreat?"
"That is the cost of Predas. You need to become pure instinct. Fast. Deadly. But empty. The rationality that makes you human drains away, drop by drop, until one day you wake up and realize you cannot remember why you are fighting. Only that you must."
Nolan sat up fully, his aching body forgotten. "That's... monstrous."
"Monstrous is the wrong word." Hinata's voice softened. "It is just tragic. There is a difference. Monsters choose to be what they are. Predas holders do not. They are eaten from the inside by the very thing that makes them strong."
"When my star belongs to The Pressing Hand?"
"That's a possibility. Not certainty." Hinata's expression grew distant. "The ancient texts describe it as the authority of burden. The pressure you withstand. The longer you hold, the heavier it gets. But the heavier it gets, the more you can lift. But we don't know what it costs. What do you say? Continue here, or—"
"I go back in."
Hinata raised an eyebrow. "Without knowing your constellation? Without knowing the cost?"
"Knowing won't change the weight." He stood, testing his balance. His legs held. "That thing in there—the echo. It said gravity is inevitable. Everything falls." He rolled his shoulders again, shaking off the last of the stiffness. "But falling isn't the same as staying down."
He walked toward the darkness where the door waited.
"Wait." Hinata's voice stopped him. "You just lasted four seconds. You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. What makes you think the second time will be different?"
Nolan didn't turn around.
"Because the first time, I didn't know what I was walking into. I thought I was supposed to push. I thought strength meant resistance." He looked back over his shoulder. "But that thing doesn't push back. It just... presses. Constant. Unchanging. Like the weight of the sky."
"So?"
"So you don't fight weight. You don't punch the ground when you fall. You find the angle. You shift your center. You let the weight pass through you instead of crushing you. It took me four seconds to figure that out. Next time, I'll last longer."
Hinata crossed her arms. "And if you're wrong? If every time you go in there, you lose a little more of yourself?"
Nolan was quiet for a moment.
"Then I'll cross that bridge when I reach it." His voice was flat. Certain. "I can't afford to hesitate. My father was poisoned. The southern kingdom is marching. And I have a star in my eye that I don't even understand." He turned fully to face her. "I don't have the luxury of waiting for certainty."
Nolan's eyes were determined.
The door stood where he had left it.
ENTER
Nolan didn't hesitate this time. He pushed it open and walked inside.
The room was the same. Circular. Black walls polished like glass. And in the center, the figure waited.
It tilted its head. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly.
"You returned."
"I did."
"Most do not."
Nolan stepped forward. The weight began immediately, not a surprise this time, but a presence. He could feel it pressing against his shoulders, his chest, his lungs. But he did not buckle. He shifted his stance, widening his feet, lowering his center of gravity.
The figure watched.
"You learn fast."
"Survival instinct."
"Or something deeper." The figure raised a hand. The weight doubled.
Nolan's knees bent, but he did not fall. His breathing grew shallow. He focused on the pressure, not fighting it, not resisting, but feeling it. The way it pushed. The direction of its force.
Not down, he realized. Inward.
The weight wasn't trying to crush him to the ground. It was trying to collapse him into himself.
He straightened his spine. The pressure screamed against him, but he held.
The figure's hollow eyes widened. Just a fraction.
"Interesting."
Nolan's vision blurred. Blood dripped from his nose. But he stayed standing.
"Again," he said.
The figure smiled. Its cracked lips bled darkness.
"Again."
Hinata watched from the cavern floor.
Four seconds. Then seven. Then twelve. Then thirty.
Each time, Nolan emerged slower, paler, his body trembling. Each time, he sat on the mat, caught his breath, and walked back through the door.
On the fifth attempt, he lasted a full minute.
He staggered out, collapsed to his knees, and vomited bile onto the stone.
Hinata said nothing. She handed him a cloth.
He wiped his mouth. Stood up. Walked toward the door again.
This time, she grabbed his arm.
"That's enough for today."
Nolan looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot, but there was something new in them—a sharpness, a clarity that hadn't been there before.
"One more."
"You'll break."
"Then carry me out."
He pulled his arm free and walked into the darkness.
Nolan didn't remember falling.
He didn't remember the sixth attempt at all. The door. The figure's hollow eyes. Nothing.
One moment, he was stepping into the black room.
Next, he was waking up in the chamber, his head resting on something soft.
Hinata's lap.
She sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her robes pooled around her like a fallen tent. Her hand rested on his forehead, cool and dry.
"Took you long enough," she said.
He tried to sit up. Nothing hurt.
No ache. No stiffness. No lingering weight in his chest.
He sat up fully, patting his arms, his ribs, his legs. "I feel... fine."
"You should." Hinata withdrew her hand. "Because nothing actually happened to you."
Nolan stared at her. "What?"
"That echo in there, it's not real. Not in the way you think. It carries only intent. The authority's intent. The last memory of the man who wielded it." She stretched her legs, wincing at the stiffness. "No flesh. No blood. No bone. Just... a shadow of what once was. It cannot hurt you physically."
"Then why did I—"
"Your mind believed it." She tapped her temple. "That's the trick. The echo doesn't crush your body. It convinces your mind that your body is being crushed. And your mind, being the obedient servant that it is, makes it real. For you." She paused, her expression one that tends to be quite terrifying. "If a real holder of that authority had been in that room, you would be dead. Your bones would be powder. Your organs would be paste. There would be nothing left to carry—"
Nolan cut her off.
"Ok, I understand."
Nolan looked down at his hands. They were steady. No tremors. No blood.
Then he laughed.
It was a dry, hollow sound, not quite humor, not quite despair. Just... release.
"You could have just told me."
"I did, have you perhaps not listening? Anyhow, you needed to taste your own blood, even if it was imaginary. That is how the old ways work, Nolan. The body learns what the mind cannot be taught."
"Even if this test does not help you to find your authority, still, it was helpful to you in other ways."
Nolan sat cross-legged on the floor, facing her.
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. A few minutes. You collapsed as soon as you stepped through the door the sixth time. I caught you. Dragged you back up the hidden stairs. Sat here. Waited."
"You dragged me?"
"You're not that heavy." She sniffed. "Annoying, yes. Heavy, no."
Nolan shook his head. "You're insane."
She stood up, her joints cracking.
"Enough for today. It's lunch time. Rest. Let your mind settle."
I just can't eat with you.
Nolan kept the thought to himself, buried beneath a nod and a tight-lipped smile.
"I have to give company to Nora. So later."
Before Hinata could say another word.
He rose from the floor, his legs steadier than he expected, and slipped from the chamber.
As he was walking.
He turned a corner and found himself near the war meeting room.
The doors were shut. Two guards flanked the entrance, their armor bearing the Alanorian crest. They nodded as he approached.
"Daily meeting not happening today?"
"Not yet, Prince," a voice came from behind him.
Two guards' hands went toward their weapons. Nolan spun around.
A figure stood at the far end of the corridor, silhouetted against the light from a high window. Tall. Thin. Wrapped in a traveling cloak dusted with road grime.
"And I am here to have a meeting personally. Just two of us."