Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 169: I give it up

The treasure, the mission—all of it faded in that moment. The weight of his own failure consumed him more than any test could.

"I see her every time I close my eyes," he continued, voice shaking. "Every single night. Her face, her scream... the way the fire lit up the hallway behind her. I left her. I lived, and she didn’t. And I can’t—I can’t forgive myself for that."

Silence followed. The only sound was his breathing—deep, broken, ragged.

And then, unexpectedly, the queen whispered, "You didn’t leave her, Liam."

He didn’t lift his head.

"You were a child," she said. "A child in a nightmare. You tried. You fought to save her. But fate is cruel. And sometimes... the fire takes what we can’t protect."

He didn’t respond.

But the sobs began to slow.

"You carry her still," she said softly. "In your strength. In your choices. Maybe even in why you’re here now. Maybe... she’s the reason you keep trying."

Liam finally looked up. Eyes red. Face wet. Lost.

"I don’t know how to let it go," he said.

"You don’t," the queen replied. "You live with it. But you don’t let it rule you."

The king had been quiet through Liam’s outpouring, his eyes like deep wells of memory and sorrow. The kind of sorrow that understood loss, not as a concept, but as a living wound.

And then, after a long silence, his voice rumbled across the field, low and solemn.

"You loved her dearly," he said.

Liam didn’t reply. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched.

The king stepped forward, the grass withering under his bare feet.

The king stopped just a few paces before him. His towering figure loomed like the shadow of a mountain. "I can give her back to you."

Time seemed to stop.

Liam blinked. "What?"

"I can return your sister to the world of the living," the king said simply. "Not as a ghost. Not as a memory. In flesh. In breath. In life."

Liam’s heart slammed in his chest.

He scrambled to his feet, hope rising like fire behind his ribs. "You can? You mean... actually bring her back? Anna?"

"I can," the king said. "Your pain is strong. Your blood has tasted ancient power. You touched the treasure. You are bound now. Through that, I can offer you a single request. And if you ask for your sister’s return... it shall be granted."

The air shifted. The wind around them grew still.

Liam stepped forward, breath catching. "What do I have to do?"

The queen suddenly turned toward him, eyes wide. "Liam—"

But he didn’t hear her.

"Tell me," Liam said to the king, "what do I have to do?"

The king’s gaze sharpened. "Forsake the treasure. Walk away from it. Give up the mission. Refuse the call. And I will bring her back."

The words struck like thunder.

Silence followed.

The queen’s voice cut through it, quiet but firm. "Liam... don’t."

He turned toward her, eyes wild with disbelief. "Don’t? Are you hearing what he’s saying? Anna—my sister—she could be alive again."

The queen took a slow step forward. "And what would that cost?"

"I don’t care."

"You should care," she said sharply. "Because this is your test now. The final one."

Liam’s face twisted with conflict. "This isn’t some illusion. This is real. He’s real. The treasure is real. And he can do it."

"Yes," she agreed. "Which is why it’s dangerous. He can bring her back. And you can choose that path. But if you do... all this—all the fights, the bloodshed, the lives lost—will have been for nothing."

Liam stepped back, shaking his head, confused and frantic. "You don’t understand. I’ve lived for this moment. I’ve dreamed about it every night. Hearing her voice again... hugging her again. It’s the one thing I’ve always wanted."

"And that’s why it’s the final test," the queen whispered.

Liam turned toward the king, breathing hard. "You swear it? If I walk away from the treasure, you’ll bring her back? She’ll be the same? Not some twisted puppet?"

"I swear it," the king said, voice like stone. "You have my word, Liam."

The name sounded like a sentence.

Liam looked down at his hands. They were trembling.

"Don’t do this," the queen said again. Softer this time. "Please. You’re stronger than this."

But he wasn’t sure.

He wasn’t sure at all.

"Liam... you can’t do this," the queen said, her voice low, but trembling.

She stepped in front of him now, placing herself between him and the king’s offer. Her gaze searched his face—those stormy eyes that had seen death, battle, betrayal, and yet still burned with something unbroken. But now... now she saw a fracture deep in his soul. One he could no longer hide.

"Even your sister wouldn’t want this," she said quietly.

Liam’s lips parted, then closed again. He looked past her, toward the looming figure of the king, then down at the earth beneath his boots. He shook his head slowly, as if trying to reason with the storm inside him.

"You didn’t know her," he whispered.

"I didn’t have to," the queen replied. "It’s hopeless, she wouldn’t ask you to throw it all away for her. Not like this."

Liam’s throat tightened.

"I’m not throwing it away," he said hoarsely. "I’m—I’m making it count. Everything we’ve done... all the pain... if it brings her back, then maybe it all meant something."

The queen took a breath, her voice steady but urgent. "It does mean something, Liam. Already. You’re here. You’ve passed through fire, through darkness, through death itself. You’ve carried others when they fell. You’ve saved me. That means something. But if you give up now—if you walk away from what this treasure was meant to be used for—you’ll dishonor all of it. Including her."

He winced at the word. Her.

His mouth opened, trembling. "I just want to see her again."

"And I want that for you," the queen whispered. "But this—this is not the way. She’s gone, Liam. And you know that. Deep down, you know."

He looked up. His eyes were bloodshot now. His hands curled into fists.

"No," he said. "You don’t understand. She died because of me. Because I failed. I was too late."

The queen stepped closer, her hand reaching for his. "Then honor her by being what she believed you could become. A protector. A leader. A hero. Not someone who breaks the world just to fix the past."

He didn’t take her hand.

He looked to the king instead.

"I’m ready," Liam said, quietly. "I give it up."

The queen flinched. "Liam..."

"My mind’s made up."