The corridors twisted in ways Elias had stopped trying to understand.

  It wasn’t like the Pawn Shops, where the world bent under the weight of Lies.

  It was different, it wasn’t changing things—it was revealing them.

  Like how the temple had always been here, just waiting for them to see it.

  Elias sighed, starting to feel dolos wasn't very creative. “Great. More mind games.” he said with boredom

  Sera wanted to say something but she decided to just keep walking ahead, her steps steady. She had no expectations of this place, which made it easier for her to adjust. Unlike Elias, she didn’t have the habit of expecting something from reality.

  Elias, on the other hand seemed like he couldn't—

  “Well,” he muttered visibly angered, stepping over an invisible step that hadn’t been there a moment ago, “this is annoying.”

  Sera smirked slightly. “That’s the point.”

  Elias scowled. “It’s a stupid point.”

  She didn’t argue.

  Because they both knew he wasn’t wrong.

  Dolos wasn’t guiding them somewhere.

  He was playing with them.

  And the first true game was about to begin.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  They finally reached an open chamber.

  Stone columns lined the walls, each etched with intricate carvings—scenes of stories playing out like frozen echoes of the past.

  Elias squinted at one. A man stood before the gods, presenting them with a sculpture, his face twisted in amusement as they accepted it.

  Dolos.

  Sera ran her fingers along the stone, reading the patterns like a language only she understood.

  “This is where our first test begins” she murmured.

  Elias sighed. “Of course it is.”

  At the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, and resting atop it—

  A golden laurel wreath.

  A prize. A reward. A bait.

  Elias didn’t move toward it.

  Because he knew better.

  Sera crossed her arms. “Dolos wouldn’t make it this obvious.”

  Elias glanced at her. “So what’s the trick?”

  A voice answered instead.

  “The trick,” the priest from before murmured, stepping into the chamber, “is that you already know the answer.”

  ---

  Elias turned, already bracing himself for more cryptic nonsense.

  The priest smiled beneath his mask. “Dolos does not force the world to change. He simply allows people to misunderstand it.”

  Sera tilted her head slightly. “And this test?”

  The priest gestured at the laurel wreath. “A hero’s trial, of course.”

  Elias exhaled. “Right. Because that’s what I signed up for.”

  The priest chuckled. “You did when you stepped into his domain.”

  Elias scowled. “What do we have to do?”

  The priest stepped forward, his voice shifting into a recitation.

  The words rolled out in Greek, fluid and deliberate, like poetry meant to be spoken rather than read.

  Sera listened carefully, her expression sharpening.

  Elias waited.

  Then muttered, “Translation?”

  Sera’s voice was steady as she spoke.

  “A thief’s hand, a gambler’s debt, a hunter’s prey left on a bet.

  One will chase, one will steal, one will break what was once sealed.

  A path unseen, a choice untold, the greatest trick is bought, not sold.”

  Elias blinked.

  Then turned to Sera. “Yeah, no. That was way too dramatic. What does it actually mean?”

  Sera exhaled. “It’s giving us a direction.”

  Elias raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

  Sera hesitated, glancing at the carvings.

  “A gambling den.”

  Elias stared. Then sighed, it seemed like he would have to give dolos a lesson or two on trickery.

  The priest gestured toward the laurel wreath.

  “This marks the first step,” he said. “If you can take it, it is yours.”

  Elias stared. “And if we don't?”

  The priest’s voice held amusement. “Then you will not leave this chamber.”

  Sera didn’t hesitate.

  Elias barely had time to react before she reached out and plucked the laurel from the pedestal.

  The room rumbled.

  Elias swore. “Sera, you—”

  The floor collapsed beneath them.

  They fell.

  Not into darkness.

  Not into another chamber.

  But into the middle of a bustling street.

  Neon lights flickered above them, the air thick with the scent of spice and smoke. The sound of laughter and clinking coins filled the space around them.

  Elias exhaled sharply.

  Then turned to Sera.

  “Tell me,” he said, staring at the massive golden sign overhead, “did we just get thrown into a god’s casino?”

  Sera du

  sted herself off.

  Then glanced at the glowing words above them.

  THE HOUSE OF FATE – WHERE EVEN GODS MAY LOSE

  She sighed.

  “Yes, Elias,” she muttered. “We did.”