Who am I? Just like I felt at the start of this journey, I fancy myself The Fool. I am one who seeks the road less traveled, one who will ask the hard questions to find the answers I seek. Perilli’s own booklet quote on The Fool snaps into my brain, one of the few I committed to memory on our sleepless overnight drive: The Fool is dissatisfied with the superficial things that please most people, seeking something deeper.

I find that, in this room, seeking something deeper will mean doing something I’d really rather not. Just ahead of me in this dark room is a plastic tube tunnel, the kind children play inside. It leads through a wall into the next room.

Anxiety pings in my brain again as I think of how eerie and silent, how insulated and cramped that tunnel will be. I reach my hand up to play with my hair, but then force that feeling away again.

After all, I chose this hard path, fool that I am.

The crawl into the next room is indeed tight, but it’s also fast—and oddly freeing. Once through the tunnel, I examine this next room from the floor. Once I do, I find there’s only one door left for me to walk through, painted purple.

I walk through this singular purple door.

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What matters more? That answer is pretty simple—what matters more than anything, really? Justice.

The decision to walk through this doorway was an easy one. The tarot’s Justice card calls for a careful examination and good judgment, not just of others, but also of ourselves. Appropriately, this entire room is painted half in pitch black and half in stark white, while the path through the middle remains gray.

This feels especially fitting, as more gusts of wind bash against the walls outside. After all, the only path forward we usually have is the solitary gray one.

Walking this path leads me to the next wall, where I find only one final door, painted blue.

I walk through this singular blue door.

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What matters more? That answer is pretty simple—what matters more than anything, really? Strength.

The decision to walk through this doorway was an easy one. Especially because the tarot’s call for Strength doesn’t require brute force. Instead, it suggests that sometimes the truest strength comes from being gentle and kind. Which is probably why, in the center of this next room, a giant open palm is painted on the floor, covering a clenched fist.

Since Strength stands for unexpected solutions to a problem, I figured this might be the cleverest path forward. However, crossing this particular room, the house seems to come alive all around me, banging and clanging louder than ever. It almost feels like I really have entered some kind of horror house, as if the walls themselves are cautioning me to turn back.