The sun had barely risen when the group broke camp. A thin veil of mist clung to the ground, curling around their boots as they prepared to move on. Erik smothered the dying fire with a practiced kick of dirt, while Seth stretched and yawned loudly, arms raised high.

“Do you have to be so loud?” Klara muttered, tightening the strap of her catalyst bag.

“Gotta let the world know I’m awake,” Seth replied cheerfully.

Friedrich snorted as he secured his greatsword. Star, already ready to go, turned to Siegfried.

“How much farther to Olmec Hill?”

“Not far,” he answered, his voice calm. “By midday, we should see it clearly. The tower stands in the lake around the hill—but crossing it will be another matter.”

Klara glanced down at the map in her hands, brow creasing. “Let’s hope the lake isn’t as bad as the stories say. A mirror that sees your truth, wasn’t it?”

“Great,” Seth chimed in with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I’ve always wanted a body of water to judge me.”

Erik smirked, slinging his greatsword over his back. “Don’t worry. It’ll probably take one look at you and decide you’re not worth the effort.”

The banter eased their nerves as they set off, falling into a steady pace. The forest gradually thinned as the path climbed higher. The air grew cooler, carrying the faint sound of running water and the rustle of unseen creatures.

By midmorning, the terrain changed. Jagged stones pushed through the earth, slick with dew. Trees gave way to low shrubs and patches of wildflowers scattered between the rocks.

“There,” Siegfried said, pointing ahead.

They stopped to take in the sight. 

Olmec Hill loomed before them, its steep slopes covered in greenery and dotted with clusters of ancient, weathered stones that seemed to hum faintly with residual magic. In the distance, they could make out the glint of sunlight reflecting off the lake that surrounded the Tower of a Thousand Mirrors.

“We’re close,” Star said, her voice filled with determination.

Then, as they rounded a bend in the path, the remnants of a camp came into view. Torn tents flapped limply in the breeze, charred patches of earth marking where fires once burned. Supplies lay strewn across the ground—some half-packed, others smashed beyond use. Scattered around the site were figures lying eerily still, their bodies draped in shadows cast by the jagged rocks above.

Star raised her hand, signaling for the group to stop. “Careful. We don’t know what happened here.”

“Looks like they were hit hard,” Erik muttered, his tail swishing uneasily as he scanned the scene. He crouched beside a toppled crate, sifting through its contents. “Supplies, weapons… whoever attacked them wasn’t after loot.”

Friedrich knelt beside one of the fallen figures, checking their pulse. “They’re alive. Barely.” He frowned, pointing to a faint purple mark glowing on the adventurer’s chest. “What is that?”

Klara knelt beside him, her catalyst humming softly as she examined it. “It’s magic—but not a normal spell. It feels… tangled. Like it’s bound to them.”

“Should we wake them?” Seth asked, unease creeping into his voice.

Star nodded. “We need answers. Siegfried.”

He was already moving. Kneeling beside the adventurer, Siegfried placed his hands over the mark. A gentle glow spread from his palms as Dew energy flowed through them. The purple light faded, and the adventurer’s breathing steadied.

Slowly, their eyes opened.

Panic flashed across their face.

“It’s alright,” Star said, lowering herself beside them. “You’re safe. What happened?”

The adventurer swallowed hard. “We… we were searching for something. A chest. There were rumors—treasure left behind from an old expedition.”

“Treasure,” Seth muttered. “That explains everything.”

Friedrich shot him a look, and Seth fell quiet.

“We found it,” the adventurer continued, their voice growing shakier. “Or at least, we thought we did. But when we opened it… there was nothing inside. Just... shadows.”

“Shadows?” Klara echoed, her brows knitting together.

The adventurer nodded, their gaze distant. “They came at us. It was like they weren’t real, but they felt real. They… they showed us things.”

“What kind of things?” Star asked, her tone steady despite the unease in her gut.

“Memories,” the adventurer whispered. “But not ours. At first, it was just strange places and people we’d never seen before. But then… we saw them. Our loved ones. People we’d lost. They were there, alive, as if nothing had ever happened.” Their voice broke, tears welling in their eyes. “I saw my wife. She smiled at me, and I—” They choked on their words, pressing a trembling hand to their face.

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

Another adventurer stirred as Siegfried moved to heal them. They woke with a start, their hands clutching at the ground as if searching for something.

“Where is he?” the second adventurer gasped, their eyes wild. “Where’s my son? I saw him—he was right there! He was—”

“He’s not here,” Erik said firmly, his deep voice cutting through their panic. “Whatever you saw wasn’t real.”

The adventurer froze, their breathing ragged. “But it felt real,” they whispered. “He looked at me, spoke to me. He said he missed me. How could it not be real?”

Klara placed a hand on their shoulder, her expression softening. “Illusions can feel real when they prey on your heart. Whatever happened to you here, it wasn’t natural.”

As Siegfried tended to the others, the stories repeated. Visions that didn’t belong to them. Shadows that fed on attention. The longer they looked, the weaker they became.

“It wasn’t just tricks,” one adventurer murmured. “The shadows were alive.”

“A trap,” Friedrich said under his breath. “But who set it?”

“And why?” Klara added.

No one answered.

Star remained silent, the words echoing in her mind.

Loved ones.
Memories that weren’t theirs.
Smiles that should no longer exist.

For just a moment—unwanted, unbidden—she wondered:

What would the Tower choose to show her?