Extra To Protagonist
Chapter 117 - 117: The Others (5)

The silence between them stretched.

Merlin leaned back against the wall. Arms folded.

Not resting. Just waiting.

Flint stood across the room.

Still.

Unmoving.

But inside?

Something shifted.

He didn't show it.

Didn't twitch.

Didn't even blink.

But the world felt… louder.

Not the room.

Not the system.

Something else.

A voice.

It didn't echo.

Didn't announce itself.

Just slid in behind his thoughts like it had always been there.

[??? is watching you.]

[The Mask of Mirrors turns.]

[You interest him.]

"Calculating. Detached. Dangerous. You wear it well."

Flint's jaw tightened. Only slightly.

Not enough for Merlin to notice.

The voice continued.

"They trust him. The golden boy. The strategist. The survivor."

"They'll follow him into fire."

"But not you."

"Not until you put his head in your hand."

Flint didn't speak.

Even in his own mind.

The god laughed.

Not loud.

Just amused.

"You know it's true. He shines too bright. He draws too much."

"You stay in shadow. Where you belong."

"Strike once. That's all it takes. When he least expects it."

"Your mark would grow. Your favor would spike."

"You'd be… visible."

Flint exhaled slowly.

Through his nose.

He didn't answer.

But the silence was too long.

And Merlin noticed.

He tilted his head slightly.

"You okay over there?"

Flint nodded.

Didn't answer.

Because the voice was still talking.

"Don't lie to him. Lie to yourself."

"You're not loyal. You're waiting."

"And you already know how this ends."

"Because if you don't kill him… one day, he'll kill you."

System pinged.

[Internal Resistance Detected.]

[External Pressure Source: Divine Interference]

[The Messenger remains silent.]

[The Grin Beneath the Mask watches with sharp teeth showing.]

Merlin stepped forward once.

Nothing threatening.

Just closer.

"You sure you're good?"

Flint nodded again.

Same motion.

Same silence.

The voice faded.

Not gone.

Just hidden.

Waiting.

And Flint?

Still standing.

Still deciding.

Because some seeds don't grow right away.

They wait.

For the right light.

The right shadow.

The right excuse.

—

The silence held.

Too long.

Too tight.

Flint's fingers didn't move.

But his pulse felt like a wire stretched just past tension, waiting for someone to pluck it.

The voice came again.

"Still hesitating?

"How many more seconds do you need before you become the weapon they're afraid you are?"

It felt closer now.

Like it wasn't behind his thoughts anymore.

Like it was beside him.

Breathing.

"You don't need to swing hard. Just quick. He trusts your stillness. Punish him for it."

Merlin had turned away slightly.

Just a shift in stance.

A flicker of his eyes checking the far wall. Nothing exposed.

But enough.

Enough for Flint to picture it.

The motion.

The angle.

The aftermath.

It would take two seconds.

And change everything.

[The Mask of Mirrors makes no demands. He only watches what you choose.]

And then—

A hiss.

Another door opened behind them.

Stone sliding.

New air.

Dryer.

Cooler.

A small step.

Then another.

Mae.

She walked out of the trial chamber slowly, eyes unfocused.

Breathing hard.

One hand pressed to her chest like her heart had been trying to claw out.

She didn't notice Flint.

Didn't see the way his hand was half-curled at his side, fingers barely brushing the hilt under his coat.

She just saw Merlin.

And stopped.

He turned, and whatever had been tense in his shoulders—

It eased.

Just slightly.

"Mae," he said.

She nodded once.

Didn't speak.

Still catching up to herself.

Merlin stepped forward to meet her.

Flint's hand dropped.

The voice vanished.

[Opportunity passed.]

[The Mask of Mirrors waits.]

Flint exhaled, slow and steady.

And said nothing.

Because no one noticed.

And that?

Was what the god liked most.

—

Mae didn't say a word.

She just stood there, blinking slow. Shoulders tight. Arms crossed, not defensively, just held. Like she wasn't sure what parts of herself were still real and which ones belonged to the room she left.

Merlin reached her. Didn't touch. Just paused in front of her.

"You made it," he said. Low. Flat. Calm.

She nodded.

Still didn't speak.

Still didn't look at Flint.

Merlin caught that.

Made a mental note.

Flint hadn't moved either. He leaned against the wall like he always did. Like stone was more comfortable than people. But his hand stayed a little too relaxed. Like he'd just made a decision he didn't want anyone noticing.

System pinged.

[Three Participants Reunited.]

[Stability Net: Fragile / Observed]

[Trial Path Adjusting.]

[The Mask of Mirrors steps back.]

L[The Messenger watches the others.]

Mae finally spoke.

Barely above a whisper.

"It said I wouldn't be remembered."

Merlin looked at her. "The room?"

She nodded. "Or the voice. Whatever it was."

Flint blinked once.

Didn't comment.

Mae looked at Merlin now. Really looked.

"You ever feel like you're just… filling space?"

His mouth opened.

Then shut.

'Yes,' he thought. 'But not like you mean.'

Instead, he said, "They design these places to ask the worst questions. Not the right ones."

She smiled. Small. Crooked.

"Didn't stop it from hurting."

Silence.

And then, the corridor shifted again.

A low grind. Barely audible.

Another wall split. Another path opened.

Dion still hadn't come out.

Which meant they were being pushed forward.

"Four in, three out," Merlin muttered. "They're testing how incomplete we can be and still keep moving."

Mae stepped forward.

Still pale.

Still tight around the shoulders.

But her voice was steady this time.

"Then let's move."

Merlin nodded once.

Didn't glance at Flint.

Didn't need to.

The system pinged once more.

[New Chamber: Trial of Pattern.]

[Objective: Navigate Structure Without Breaking Pace.]

[Warning: Stopping resets the sequence.]

Flint stepped off the wall.

No one flinched.

But they were all thinking the same thing.

'Next room. New rules. More cracks.'

And somewhere deep in the stone…

The gods smiled without showing their teeth.

—

The corridor didn't open so much as it uncoiled.

Stone peeled back in layers, like a throat widening to swallow them whole. No stairs. No doors. Just a long, flat stretch of perfectly cut stone inlaid with glowing geometric lines. Circles. Hexes. Spirals.

Too neat.

Too clean.

Merlin hated it immediately.

Mae stepped up beside him. She stared down the path with the kind of thousand-yard focus that meant her thoughts hadn't fully returned from wherever the last trial dragged them.

Flint didn't speak. Just watched. Same posture. Same blank face. But now there was a weight behind it. Merlin didn't look directly at him. Just noted the angle of his stance, the twitch in his shoulder.

'He almost did it.'

The thought came and went like breath. No panic. No anger.

Just fact.

System pinged.

[Trial of Pattern: Initiating]

[Objective: Match forward pace to pulse flow.]

[Breaking rhythm triggers reset.]

[Three failures result in individual extraction.]

Merlin's eye twitched at that last line.

Mae asked, "Extraction means…?"

Merlin didn't answer.

Because he was pretty sure extraction didn't mean exit.

It meant removal.

Flint stepped onto the platform first. No hesitation. As if his body moved on instinct, like he'd already decided that if someone failed, it wasn't going to be him.

The symbols flared under his boots.

A hum filled the air.

Like static.

Rhythmic.

Merlin stepped next. Matched pace. Felt it.

The pulse wasn't in sound.

It was in pressure.

Like the room was breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

They had to move with it.

Mae came last.

The moment her foot hit the path, the system pinged again.

[Sequence Active]

[Begin.]

The path began to shift.

Not the floor. The pattern.

Lines blinked. Circles rotated. Light scattered forward in a sequence.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Merlin matched it.

So did Flint.

Mae stumbled a beat then caught herself. Regained the rhythm.

Merlin didn't speak. No time.

'Left. Half beat. Slow step.'

He followed the spiral as it looped inward.

The walls began to move.

Panels sliding, revealing mirrors on either side, each one showing a slightly wrong reflection.

Mae's had no eyes.

Flint's was smiling.

Merlin's?

It was empty.

Not broken.

Not bleeding.

Just absent.

Like whoever walked the path now was someone he used to be.

He grit his teeth.

Step.

Step.

Slide left.

Pause.

Forward.

Mae breathed sharply behind him. Her rhythm spiked but she recovered.

The system didn't ping.

Yet.

The reflections kept pace beside them.

Merlin could see his own just in the corner of his eye. It didn't mimic.

It watched.

His pulse stayed even.

'This is the test. Not just steps. Focus.'

Behind him, Mae's foot slid an inch too far.

The light blinked red.

[Warning: Pulse Sync Deviation -0.2s]

She didn't curse.

Didn't cry out.

But he heard the breath she sucked in.

Merlin shifted.

Matched his stride to hers. Subtly.

Gave her a visual.

Not control. Just a lead.

She mirrored him.

Barely.

'Smart,' he thought. 'Scared, but smart.'

Ahead, the pattern shifted again.

One of the glyphs dropped away.

The floor beneath it pulsed.

New step.

No time.

Merlin turned sharply.

No warning.

Just trusted the sequence.

Flint adjusted a beat late—corrected instantly.

Mae copied.

System pinged.

[Pulse Sync: 98%]

[Sequence Midpoint Reached.]

Halfway.

The walls closed in tighter now.

The reflections were closer.

Merlin saw his again.

Now it was speaking.

No sound.

Just lips moving.

He didn't stop.

Didn't look.

Because this was designed.

The gods didn't need to kill you with monsters.

They could kill you with pacing.

With rhythm.

With watching yourself for too long.

Step.

Pulse.

Breathe.

The next glyphs began blinking faster.

Pressure spiked.

Flint surged ahead.

Mae lagged.

Merlin adjusted.

Again.

The system pulsed again.

[Final Sequence Initiating]

[Maintain pace or be expelled.]

The lights burned.

The hum deepened.

Merlin could feel the stone beneath his boots vibrating now, not violently. Just enough to know they were standing on something that expected failure.

He kept moving.

Eyes forward.

Reflections vanished.

Wall seals closed.

Final stretch.

No tricks now.

Just finish.