He placed his foot on the obsidian step.

“One rule,” the boy said. “Don’t look back. And whatever you do, don’t step off the path.”

Behind him, the first step reappeared on the jungle floor—empty, waiting for the next desperate heart.

“I don’t believe in stairways,” he said, but his voice cracked.

The old woman—Abuela Izel, whom no one knew how old she truly was—smiled. “Believing is not required. Only the first step.”

Mateo tightened his grip on the stone, took a breath, and climbed.

Behind him, the first step had vanished.