He saw himself inside the volcano in Uganda on the day of Lily’s birth, saw himself thrust his real left arm through a waterfall of lava so that he, Lily and Wizard could escape—then he was atop the Great Pyramid at Giza, battling Marshall Judah and placing a jar of red dirt under the Golden Capstone before the beam of light lanced out from the sun and struck the pyramid—then he was inside the Sixth Vertex of the Machine inside a stadium-like cavern underneath Easter Island with Lily, fighting his father, Wolf, for the final Pillar—then he was on the final fighting stage of the Great Games, facing a man dressed as Cerberus—then he was swimming in front of the submerged city of Atlas, heading inside its vault—and then he was on his knees inside the Rock of Gibraltar, sobbing for what he thought was the loss of Lily.

You once possessed great power, yet you did not use it. Why?

I don’t want power, Jack replied.

What do you want?

I just want people to be able to live their lives.

The answer came from Jack perfectly naturally, with uninhibited honesty.

And it struck him that he actually had no choice in the matter.

This colossus—whatever it was—could see right into him, right through him, to his core, to the very heart of his character, his beliefs, his being.

This was indeed a whole new kind of test, the ultimate examination.

There was nowhere to hide here, no concealing your thoughts, your desires, your intentions.

And abruptly a line from Imhotep’s skull came to him:

But there is no escaping the ultimate choice.

In the face of Omega, you cannot conceal your desires.

Jack wondered if he could pass such a test.

He also found himself wondering how long this was taking back in the real world. It could be taking seconds, minutes or, worse, longer, and he had no way of knowing.

He was running out of time to save the universe.

What a fucking trip.

He also found himself questioning how the colossus was ‘speaking’ to him in English.

Unbidden, it answered. There was truly no hiding here.

I am merely communicating with you. It is you who interprets my messages in the form of language.

In the face of this strange being, Jack was beginning to regather himself.

Somehow he managed to convey a question to the colossus.

The two men who came through here before me, were they pure or impure?

Their intentions were not like yours, yet their intentions were pure. The first’s intention was to see everything end.

That was Rastor, Jack thought.

The second intends to rule.

That was Sphinx.

How can such intentions be pure? Jack asked.

I judge not in terms of benevolence or malevolence, only purity. Their intentions were as pure as yours.