Mutasm got up with shaky legs determined to continue until he found a suitable shelter. But as he looked around, the landscape did not bode well for him. More so considering he lost his only source of real cover over his head. Despondent at the loss, he continued his trek towards what seemed to be an incline in the land. Step after heavy step, he moved on. His thoughts were a flurry of panic and fear. At any moment, another vicious rabbit might appear and attack him. Those red eyes and spittle flying everywhere as it snarled, the glistening unicorn horn, and more memorable, the rotten tendrils from its back would be nightmares for days to come.

Every rustled branch was a hidden monster that could feed on him. Every crunch of leaves and branches not his own was a warning of a beast lurking in the long shadows that surrounded him. He might have been hallucinating from the fear and emotions he had running rampant within him, or it could be from the suddenly itchy eyes. Ever since he saw the abomination of nature, with its rotten tendrils reaching out to grasp him, his eyes had been itching unusually. Mutasm rubbed them as he continued to trek past the trees. Gradually, the ground beneath him began to tilt slightly; introducing a more difficult path for the already exhausted Mutasm. Thighs burning, it took him a while to notice the change. The land around him began to become more mountainous slowly, and the trees slight more separate than before.

More rocks were apparent, unlike before, larger and larger as he continued in his trek. Slowly, he crossed enough distance until a mountain, large at the base, suddenly shot up into the sky, only to rapidly narrow into towers thin - touching the clouds. Unlike the forest, the colors of the mountain were not much different than those of earth - its awkward shape was readily apparent and distinct though. He strolled towards the mountain base, in awe at the surreal sight before him. He, very much like his father, loved to see new things with his own eyes. They would choose a destination once a year to experience the world themselves.

Mutasm drifted in the moment, amazed at the sheer beauty of the mountain looming above the forest, hidden by a canopy of colorful trees and leaves. A bright light suddenly assaulted his eyes, and within a second it was gone. Like the sun reflecting off a mirror, tilted perfectly towards his face. Looking at where he believed the light had come from, he noticed a wavering image of a section of the mountain wall; like a large circle that did not belong. Feeling a need to find out what it was, he decided to see what it might be. But, the fluctuating section was in a remote part, without a clear path toward it.

Determined, Mutasm slowly walked up to the base of the mountain. Finding a path he could climb towards the illusion - he guessed - he began to go up. The first few handholds were vertically up until he reached a platform that progressively rose diagonally up towards the front of the illusion. In front of the image, was a ledge sticking out, like it was built there on purpose. Mutasm heaved himself onto the platform, his muscles aching every time he pulled himself up. Sitting down with a huff, he let his legs hang on the side of the platform. Momentarily enjoying the serenity of the colorful forest down below.

Maybe I shouldn’t climb up. The forest is so beautiful. I should just stay there. I could probably make a nice and small shelter within a few hours. It would make everything so much easi-

Mutasm felt disconcerted with the trail of thoughts he had. Why was he so adamant in going to the cave? What was up with the sudden swing in desire? Hadn't he just climbed up because he wanted to see the illusion? Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he felt them become more vivid. It was like a fog had inhibited his mind. Passively leading him away from the illusion, using his own feelings against him. In truth, had he not seen a rabbit three feet long and with a very sharp looking horn and ethereal tentacles, he probably would have left to create a shelter on the ground; completely forgetting the wavering image.

If a small critter like a rabbit is three feet long, I can only imagine how big a predator must be.

Mutasm pushed himself up with a grunt; it was nice to have a small break. Especially considering how worked up he had been about everything that happened until now. Carefully, he moved forward while keeping his feet on the floor and hands stretched for balance; sliding his way up the tilted platform. Slowly, he would test the strength of each position before he moved on. He did not want to end up splattered on the hard floor down below. Eventually, after a few slips and a small part of the platform breaking off due to weathering, he made it to the ledge. Thankfully, it seemed sturdy enough to stay up. And more importantly, it wasn't narrow, but wide enough for him to sleep on.

But the width of the ledge was secondary to Mutasm. His entire focus was undivided to the wavering image before him. How it was there, he did not know? Nor did he understand how other people had not noticed it as well. Rubbing his eyes again, the itch came back with a fury. “My eyes itch way too much! I need to get some pure water to clean them out soon. But right now, I am going to find out what this is,” said Mutasm. Renewing his curiosity, and continuing on the path he had chosen. With a shivering hand and eyes squinted, afraid of the endless horrible outcomes that could be waiting for him on the other side, he touched the illusion. For a moment, a few seconds and nothing more, the image held; solid as a wall of dense rocks should be. But, it quickly gave away.

Mutasm stumbled in without anything supporting the weight he had applied against the wall he had felt just a second ago. He closed his eyes, heart beating, and sweat designing his forehead. Extending his hands out, he fell onto them with a grunt. Quickly rolling, he curled into a ball; making himself as small as possible in case something did happen or an animal called this place home. After what felt like way too long, nothing happened. Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to be met with the ceiling of a natural cave - stalactite waiting for the day they fall on an unsuspecting wanderer.

While that would not have caused him any concern, the perfectly smooth floor under him did. As he suspected from the beginning, when he saw the flat platform, this place was man-made. Or at the very least made by sapient beings. Considering he wasn't on planet earth anymore, there probably weren't any humans anywhere around. Mutasm pushed himself up to his feet. Squinting as he did so, he looked around. He found that he had been laying in a wide tunnel leading deeper into the cave. It was wide enough for five people to walk in shoulder to shoulder and about ten feet high. The walls were a dark gray color, with strips of brown and black running along them vertically. On the walls of the tunnel were shiny pieces of metal that reflected the sun’s rays into the cave, giving it the needed light source. Each was about a foot long and half as wide, tilted in an angle. They were separated equidistantly from the other; giving more credence to his theory of a sapient-made cave.

Feeling wary at meeting any sapient creature he would not understand nor look like, he hugged the right wall as he moved deeper; making sure he did not accidentally break any of the reflective surfaces. One thing Mutasm was entirely sure about, was that he did not want to be a test subject locked in a prison or be vivisected like an animal by scientists. Shivering at the thought, he slowly made it to a bend that seemed invisible from the entrance of the cave. The curve was bending deeper into the wall than the rest of the tunnel, making it very hard to see without being close to it.

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The closer he got to it, the more nervous Mutasm became. He felt his heart in his throat, and his head pounding with every step he took to get closer. In addition to the lactic acid already in his muscles, his hands became a bit clammy, and legs even heavier than before. Taking deep breaths at a regular and constant pace, he tried to lessen the anxiety that had built up. Once he reached the edge of the corner, he placed his back on the wall. Stopping to gather his thoughts and strengthen his resolve. His head throbbed even more than before, and butterflies finally made themselves present in his stomach.

Why is it getting so hard to move forward past this point? I feel like I am about to give a speech to a million people. And the entire planet’s fate rested on that one speech.

Mutasm continued his long wait, trying his best to push himself forward, but his nerves would not let him. Rubbing his eyes again, he started a mantra to drive himself across the bend.

Breath in, Breath out

Breath in, Breath out

Over and over again he repeated it until he felt enough strength in his limbs to take that final step. Muscles straining unusually, he stepped past the bend, only to stumble through an invisible barrier like he did through the cave entrance. This time he caught himself, but he stayed with his back bent and hands on his knees. Mutasm felt shocked at the sudden lack of nervousness and fear in continuing. He didn't have clammy hands, his heart stopped beating so hard, and mind not throbbing anymore. Feeling mentally sound and better than any period before he decided to make this climb. That in itself made him disoriented and unsettled. Taking a while to gather his thoughts again, he wondered at the shift and what it meant. Was there a passive effect similar to when he was sitting on the ledge, just much stronger?

Straightening himself, Mutasm’s thoughts quickly drifted away at the scene before him. Eyes widening, he stared at a large room with no other doors. He probably would have been happy to see such a perfect place to make a temporary home, but what inhabited these caves scared him to his core. He felt his throat swell in fear, unable to voice a scream. He did not notice this even as he tried holler - voicelessly. All the while he fell back onto his backside.

In front of him was a room with a single pedestal at the far end - directly touching the wall - and on it was a small book Mutasm could probably hide under his shirt. But before that was a sea of bones covered in rusted armor and weapons. Like a war had taken place here, all for the small book. He tried to hurry away, but a pull from the other end of the room drew him in. One second he was crawling away, the next blackness with no light, and the last he was in front of the pedestal. Reaching with shaky hands towards it. It wasn't the book that drew him, no it was the pedestal that begged him to be released from its forgotten torture. To be set free, giving it death by removing the one thing it had guarded for eternity.

Thoughts entered Mutasm’s mind as he finally touched the pedestal. Eyes becoming completely black to see what had happened so long ago. Frozen in place, Mutasm drifted into the air, something picking him up. Protecting him for its own devices. All the while images began playing in his mind, of a being with a soul forced out of its physical vessel and put into a large rock; molded to the desires of its maker. Slowly, with each death the soul caused, the stronger it had become; absorbing the life energy released when the soul truly departs to the next realm. Until one day, its maker gave it a book and commanded it to guard it for time immemorial. For what seemed to be an eternity, it was the only calling it had for existing. Millennium after millennium it guarded its single treasure against the hordes that begged to gain insight from the book; killing them all.

Its goal was a source, no the source of meaning to an existence that was so flat in make. But once that goal meant nothing, what would remain for it to desire any form of life? Why should it stay, when its maker probably died long ago, and so did those that craved over the book? In the end, after too long a period with no one ever entering its cave, it had decided that it desired this life no longer. The next person would free it from the obligation it had and releasing it from life itself; all by merely picking up a book.

Worry not, it tried to speak to Mutasm. He was focused with all his might at the words, committing them to memory. It spoke in a guttural language he did not know. But the words were as clear as the sun in its zenith; no clouds disfiguring the sky it inhibited. Mutasm understood them as though they the words were spoken in his tongue.

No suffering will be caused to thee. And knowledge bestowed I shall provide. Of the words written in this single book of ages old and times untold. Of a people long ago, they sought heights unmatched and challenged the gods. Until they became the gods, they so despised. This book holds a single power, words written to give Baseerah - insight beyond insight - to those that would reach it. A power my master feared would be too strong even in the realm of gods and their equals. The book has a simple name, but the words they speak is beyond the scope of ordinary mortals. Its name is ‘Darkness Faster Than Light.’

Mutasm felt like he was being stretched in ways impossible. Then with a sudden pop, it all crashed inwards into a ball; a hidden force molding him. He felt like he was in a wormhole, speeding across the universe to a destination unknown and in a blackhole being crushed alive at the same time. But as it all slowed, he found himself holding onto the small book. It was a hand and a half wide and double that in length. Thick like a volume book, it was covered entirely in a black leathery cover. On the cover was nothing but a yellowish red drawing reminiscent of the sun that adorned the sky of this world and all around it was darkness.

“Darkness Faster Than Light,” Mutasm repeated, whispering to himself the name of the book and the words spoken by an entity that had lived longer than he could imagine. Tearing his eyes away from its entrancing look, he saw the rubble that had once been a beautiful pedestal. The home of a sad soul with no memory of who it was before it became so. Mutasm got down to a knee and brushed his hand on the small pebbles and sharp rocks. Hoping that the soul would find its way towards the goal it had wanted. To reach a peaceful place where it could just cease to exist. It was like a vigil without candles, only the silence and Mutasm wishing them a safe journey beyond.

Getting up, he turned to look at the sea of bones that had been a barrier when he first witnessed the room. No longer was it a source of great fear and horror. It was a reminder of a being that had a purpose and lost it through time’s weathering effect - eroding even the most committed being’s resolve. Between the bones, that came up to at least a foot off the ground, was a pathway he probably carved in the moments of blindness after he tried crawling away. Turning to his left, he saw two skeletons were reaching out in a frozen position by themselves.

Leaders among the many that had died seeking the only treasure this room had. They were laying on the ground, with one hand reaching out towards the once pedestal believing they were so close to their goals. On them were two bags that seemed to have rotten over time. Walking towards them, he pushed the bodies away, and they quickly turned to dust freeing the bags. Ruffling through them, he sought to find anything that could be of use. Unlucky, nothing was in any condition to be used. As he searched more, pushing away the organic matter that it had all become, a shiny object caught his attention.

“Yes! Something actually lasted all this time. It must be worth something,” said Mutasm.

Digging with renewed vigor, he finally pulled out the object. Only to be utterly disappointed at what he found. Yes, it was a knife that probably would cost fortunes, but it was also more of a whittler's knife than anything else. With a handle six inches and a blade three inches long. He could carve a dead animal with this, but anything moving or with a lick of intelligence would be able to kill him with ease. Especially considering if they had a sword, a dagger, a knife of any kind, or a stick even.

“Let’s hope I could catch something with a few snares or fish mazes. Then gutting them would probably be quite an easy task with a knife that hasn't lost its edge in what seems to be thousands of years.”