The room you enter feels ancient, yet strangely alive, as if it bears witness to every sorrow carried within its walls. Shadows linger in the corners, their shapes shifting in response to your presence. At the center stands a figure, draped in a flowing black cloak that absorbs the dim light, its edges frayed as though worn by centuries of sorrow. A smooth, featureless mask conceals their face, hiding every emotion, leaving only their piercing eyes visible, dark and unyielding, staring into the very marrow of your soul.
"You have come far," the man says, his voice rich with the weight of centuries. "I am the Keeper of Despair, the Guardian of the Burden. You see me as I am, yet I am only a reflection of what you carry within."
He raises a hand, his long fingers trailing through the air as though drawing unseen shapes. "Pain is a companion we all bear, though we deny its presence. Despair... ah, despair is the shadow that grows from it. It consumes, twists, and yet, it is not the enemy. It is a mirror."
He gestures toward four doors, faintly illuminated, each marked with a strange symbol. "These doors lead to my children. Each carries a shard of my burden, a fragment of the despair that once chained me. To advance, you must confront your own reflection in their words and deeds."
He pauses, his voice softening. "But first, a test. To know despair is to know its weight. Carry it, and you may yet walk forward."
In the center of the room, a large stone plinth rises from the ground. Upon it rests a small, black sphere that seems impossibly heavy for its size. The Guardian beckons you forward.
"Lift it," he says simply. "Feel its weight. Understand that this is not just a stone but the burden of despair itself."
As you grip the sphere, a wave of resistance pushes back, not in strength but in will. Your arms shake, your chest tightens, and an unseen force whispers doubts into your ears. "You are not strong enough. You cannot carry this." The whispers grow louder with every passing moment.
To succeed, you must hold the sphere for as long as you can. The whispers intensify, revealing memories of your failures, regrets, and fears. But as you endure, the weight begins to lessen, the whispers fading into silence.
The Guardian nods as you place the sphere back on the plinth. "You have endured. Now, step forward and meet those who carry my shards."