Chapter 85: Even More Trials

**Corridor after the Labyrinth**

They hadn’t even caught their breath when a new door slid open. A sweet, cloying scent filled the air.
A disco ball descended from the ceiling.
A spotlight flared on.
And a high-pitched voice shrieked from the speakers:

*"WEEEELCOME TO THE DEADLY KARAOKE ROOM!*
*Choose a song! Sing with PASSION! Or... burst into flames!"*

“Excuse me?” Zeynn muttered.
Vykhor froze.
He scanned the room like a battlefield: a stage lit in pink, three glittering microphones, an audience of animatronic mannequins staring with blinking eyes… and a sign on the wall that read: “Silence is lethal.”

Evelyn frowned.
“It’s a sonic trap. The harmonics unlock the exit. If we don’t sing, the system considers it an intrusion.”

Zeynn backed up toward Blue.
“I’ve got a feline vocal system. I can barely talk without sounding like static. I’m doomed.”

Blue growled softly, sprawling on the floor as if anticipating an incoming auditory disaster.

Evelyn, unfazed, stepped forward.
“I’ll take the first song.”
The spotlight swung toward her. The walls lit up. A retro galactic ballad started playing, like a slow interstellar love song.
She closed her eyes. Breathed in.
And sang.

Her voice was clear, deep, resonant. Pure, unexpected. Each note vibrated with precision, even silencing the blinking mannequins. Blue lifted his head. Vykhor said nothing, but his fists unclenched. Even Zeynn seemed to forget where they were.

At the final note, the room lit up in rainbows. Confetti rained from the ceiling.
*“PERFORMANCE ACCEPTED! LEVEL: DI-VA!”*
Evelyn turned, a little breathless.
“Your turn.”

Zeynn paled.
“No, no. There has to be another way.”
“If you don’t sing,” Vykhor said flatly, “the ceiling fries you. Sing.”

Zeynn sighed. A mic appeared in front of him.
A song title flashed on the screen:
“I’m a Cute Little Kitty” – Techno Remix

“This is a nightmare,” he groaned.
And he sang.
Well… howled vaguely into the mic, a mix of mewling and static panic over a pounding beat. The mannequins began twitching erratically, as if attempting a choreographed exorcism.

Blue covered his ears with his paws. Evelyn pinched her lips to keep from laughing. Vykhor stared very intently… at a blank wall.

When it ended, the system beeped.
*“PERFORMANCE… ACCEPTED… BARELY. RIDICULOUSNESS BONUS APPLIED.”*
Zeynn collapsed.
“Kill me.”
“You did great,” Evelyn teased. “I’m proud of you, little fluffy kitty.”
Zeynn groaned, ears burning.

Only Vykhor remained.

Silence fell.

The mic hovered in front of him.
Song title:
“Love Me Like a Kael’tarian” – Galactic Slow Version, Extremely Romantic

A heart-shaped mannequin popped up, holding a sign: “You can do it!”
Vykhor vaporized it with a shot.
“I don’t sing.”
“Silence is lethal,” the ceiling reminded, now glowing hot.

Vykhor narrowed his eyes.
He grabbed the mic.
And spoke the lyrics.
Cold. Sharp. Like issuing a field report.

“Love me like a Kael’tarian.
Respect my rage.
Bow to my fire.
Don’t touch my ship.”

Alarms blinked.
Then:
*“ORIGINAL STYLE DETECTED. PERFORMANCE ACCEPTED. TOTAL RESISTANCE TO RIDICULE.”*
Blue stood. Serene.
The door opened with theatrical flair.
Vykhor walked out first.
“We never speak of this again.”

“I howled ‘I’m a little cat’ in front of zombie mannequins,” Zeynn muttered.
“And you lived to laugh about it,” Evelyn smiled. “Let’s go. This ship hasn’t finished with us yet.”

**After Karaoke – Final Chamber Access Corridor**

A pastel velvet hallway stretched before them, lined with singing roses chanting “Dinner time! Dinner time!” in endless loop.
Zeynn swallowed.
“This is divine punishment. I’ve insulted some ancient god, I just know it.”
Evelyn calmly analyzed the musical pattern.
“This song has micro-frequencies. It’s a mild hypnotic. They want us softened.”
Vykhor growled.
“Let them try. I’m immune to forced tenderness.”

Blue snapped his jaws softly, ears twitching. His fur bristled at every note.

At the end of the corridor, a door opened on its own. A wave of sugary cake scent, melted plastic, and stale sweat hit them.

**The Tea Party Room**

A perfectly lit indoor garden sprawled out. A massive white cloth covered a long table decorated with floral teacups and twitching teapots. Oversized stuffed animals were seated grotesquely: a bear with a dislocated jaw, a bunny holding both a spoon… and a butcher knife.

A crystalline voice echoed:
*“Welcome, honored guests! Time for Judgment Tea. One wrong move… and splat.”*

A rolling server mannequin entered with a tray.
On it: cups labeled with their names.

“No,” Vykhor said instantly.
“Wait,” Evelyn murmured. “Look at the inscriptions.”

Each cup pulsed with a unique aura. Vykhor’s emitted unstable energy. Zeynn’s echoed faint ultrasound. Evelyn’s pulsed with her own breathing.

“Sensory lures,” she whispered. “If we mishandle them… they react.”
“Explode,” Zeynn summarized.
“Exactly.”

*“FINAL TEST! DINING WITH DIGNITY.*
*RULE ONE: DO NOT SPILL THE TEA.*
*RULE TWO: POLITE ANSWERS IN THE QUESTION GAME.*
*RULE THREE: DO NOT EAT THE EYEBALL CAKE.”*

They all looked at Zeynn, whose hand hovered near the grotesque dessert.
“I almost touched it, not quite,” he muttered.
Blue growled. One of the plushies had just blinked. It hadn’t blinked before.

**Phase 1: The Questions**

The cups activated.
Vykhor’s asked sweetly:
“Prince Vykhor, what is your favorite dessert?”
He said nothing. The cup vibrated.

“Answer,” Evelyn urged.
“…Homemade sweet kahl’tis. With spiced berries.”
The cup purred.

Zeynn’s turned on:
“Zeynn, how many times have you stolen in your life?”
He smirked.
“You want weekly or annual stats?”
The cup blinked twice. Accepted.

Evelyn’s cup:
“Evelyn Ashcroft. What are you afraid of?”
Silence. Then:
“…Forgetting who I am.”
A soft chime echoed.
*“Answers accepted. You are… acceptable.”*

**Phase 2: The Final Bite**

A second tray arrived. One item:
A muffin… with six blinking eyes. It whimpered.

*“ONE MUST DEVOUR THE MONSTER TO UNLOCK THE EXIT.*
*CHOOSE CAREFULLY. IF WRONG… BOOM.”*

Vykhor stood.
“I’ll eat it.”
Zeynn stood too.
“No. I will.”

“Wait,” Evelyn said, eyes scanning. “It’s a code.”

She picked up the muffin, turned it.
Underneath: a message in stellar braille.

“The monster is the dish. Sacrifice is useless.”

She turned.
Blue leapt.

He smashed the muffin with a paw, no hesitation.
The room trembled.
The plushies screamed.

And the final door opened.

**Exit from the Calyptus 7**

They emerged into a calm hallway lit with stable markers. The ship, exhausted, began shutting down.
No traps. No voices.
Just one, soft farewell:

*“You weren’t the most entertaining… but the most enduring. Safe travels, mercenaries.”*

**Back on the Narak’Tharr**

In the clean air, Evelyn collapsed onto a supply crate.
“I think… I’m taking up knitting.”
Zeynn lay on the floor.
“And I want everyone to forget I sang ‘I’m a cute little kitty.’”

Vykhor placed a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.
“You did well.”
She smiled.
“So did you. Even with your love song spoken like an execution.”

Blue, majestic, settled at their feet.
The only one who hadn’t cracked under absurdity.
As always.