Chapter 2: The Shifting Maze
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The air grew heavier as Abel moved down the corridor, his bare feet slipping slightly on the slick, metallic floor. He held the journal tightly, his eyes flicking between the faint glow of the markings on the walls and the shifting shadows ahead. The dim light from the ring on his finger cast distorted reflections that danced eerily across the curved walls.
Abel’s breath was shallow, the cold biting into his skin. The corridor opened into a vast chamber, and he stopped, frozen by the sight in front of him.
The floor was broken into dozens of floating segments, each hovering slightly above the ground. They rotated slowly, creating gaps that revealed nothing but an endless black void below. The walls rippled with light, their patterns moving in sync with the platforms. At the far end of the room, barely visible, was a faintly glowing archway.
Abel took a hesitant step forward, his stomach churning. The segments were spaced far enough apart that he’d need to jump between them. Some rotated in slow, deliberate arcs, while others shifted unpredictably, jerking into new positions without warning.
“What… is this?” he muttered, his voice barely audible. He scanned the room, his chest tightening as he tried to make sense of the patterns. The markings on the walls pulsed faintly, their rhythm steady but alien.
He took another step, testing the first platform. It tilted slightly under his weight, and the glow of the markings on its surface intensified. The hum in the air grew louder, almost like a warning.
Abel stepped back, his mind racing. The platforms weren’t just moving—they were reacting. As his foot left the first segment, it began to spin faster, its pattern dimming until it returned to its original position.
“Okay,” he murmured. “They reset if I leave them.”
His gaze darted to the walls. The patterns weren’t random; they moved in sequences, flowing like waves. They matched the rotations of the platforms, though some platforms seemed out of sync. Abel’s brow furrowed as he pieced together the logic.
But the room wasn’t waiting for him. The hum grew louder, and the segments began to shift more quickly. The first platform he had stepped on tilted sharply, almost throwing itself into the void. The pulse of the wall markings grew erratic, and Abel felt the air grow colder.
His stomach dropped. This wasn’t just a puzzle—it was a countdown.
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Abel stepped back toward the edge of the chamber, his mind racing. Focus. Think. What do you know?
The patterns on the walls aligned briefly with certain platforms, their glow intensifying before fading again. That alignment was the key—each platform’s stability depended on its synchronization with the wall patterns. He realized he had to cross the room before the walls fell completely out of sync. If he hesitated too long, the platforms would destabilize entirely.
He took a deep breath, his pulse pounding in his ears. The first jump was easy—just a step to the nearest segment. The platform wobbled beneath him, but he kept his balance, watching the walls carefully. The markings on his current platform pulsed in harmony with a segment ahead, and Abel leapt to it.
This time, the landing was harder. The platform jolted as it tilted sharply, forcing Abel to crouch and steady himself. The walls flickered, and a sharp crack echoed through the chamber as one of the platforms behind him shattered into the void.
“Great. No pressure,” he muttered, though his voice was tight with fear.
The next sequence was more chaotic. Abel jumped to a platform on his right, only to have it jerk violently beneath him. He almost slipped, his toes curling against the cold surface as he steadied himself. The markings on the walls pulsed faster, and he realized too late that he’d moved out of sync.
The air screamed as a segment ahead of him shattered, sending a shockwave that nearly knocked him off balance. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his breath ragged. He had to move faster.
Abel crouched, his muscles trembling as he prepared to jump. He focused on the glowing patterns, timing his leap to match their pulse. Each platform was a gamble, its stability determined by fleeting seconds of alignment. The hum grew louder, and the void below seemed to stretch closer with every misstep.
When he finally reached the center of the room, the platforms stilled briefly. Abel collapsed onto his knees, his chest heaving. The markings on the walls dimmed slightly, giving him a moment’s reprieve.
A small chest rose from the floor, its surface etched with glowing patterns. Abel stared at it, his hands trembling as he reached out. The chest clicked softly, the lid opening to reveal its contents.
Inside was a sword. Its blade gleamed faintly, its edge etched with faint, almost imperceptible markings. The hilt fit perfectly in Abel’s hand, the weight of it both unfamiliar and comforting.
He held it up, the blade catching the faint light of the chamber. It was simple but elegant, its craftsmanship flawless. Abel ran his fingers along the edge, feeling a faint warmth emanating from it. He didn’t know why, but the weapon felt… alive, as though it carried something beyond its physical form.
Before he could dwell on the thought, the hum in the room returned, louder and more urgent. The platforms began to shift again, their movements erratic. Abel tightened his grip on the sword, his pulse quickening as the far archway began to pulse with light.
“Guess that means it’s time to go,” he muttered, forcing himself to his feet. He glanced back at the platforms he’d crossed. Many of them had already crumbled, their pieces swallowed by the void. The path forward was no less treacherous, but at least now he had something—a tool, a chance.
He took a deep breath, the sword feeling heavier in his hand than it had a moment ago. “No stopping now.”
With that, he leapt toward the next platform, the hum of the room echoing in his ears as he pushed forward into the unknown.
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To be continued...