Novels2Search

90. Jaeden vs. the Third Option

As Jaeden stepped through the portal, he landed, disoriented, in the center of an octagonal, mist-laden chamber. The air of the cistern clung to him - damp, cool, and unsettlingly quiet, as if it held some sinister secret, waiting to be uncovered. Around him, eight shadowed tunnels stretched out, each an uncertain gateway to the unknown.

He let out a slow breath, cracking a grin despite himself. "Well, Echo, when you said challenge, you weren’t kidding." He could practically hear Echo’s words - half mocking, half encouragement - replaying in his head. This is where champions are made, boy.

"Yeah, no pressure, right?" he muttered.

Surveying the chamber, he took in the faint, pulsing glow from each tunnel, each one whispering a silent dare. No helpful signs, no handy directions - just raw mystery. It was a labyrinth, a puzzle, maybe something worse. Whatever it was, Jaeden's pulse quickened at the thought of it. Challenges like these were his version of comfort food. He thrived on the thrill of testing his limits, leveling up - mentally and physically - until whatever awaited him in the dark wasn’t a threat but a footnote.

But this, he realized, wasn’t the kind of situation he could just wing it. He needed a strategy - and maybe a touch of luck. The dice in his pocket practically hummed with anticipation. Eight sides, eight tunnels. It was poetic, almost like destiny was nudging him toward one of these paths - or all of them, if things got messy.

With a smirk, he pulled out the dice. "Alright, Echo’s dice, time to earn your keep." Assigning a number to each direction, he shook them in his hand, feeling a subtle energy pulsing through the carved runes. Right now, they weren’t just ordinary dice; they carried the weight of his choices, and the power to guide him - or so he hoped. "Let's see where the universe wants me to go today."

He released them, and they clattered against the damp stone, spinning with a sound that seemed too loud in the silence.

As Jaeden rolled the dice, the weight of the moment settled into his chest as they clattered across the ground. They bounced, clacking, and spinning in an almost hypnotic rhythm that echoed through the chamber, filling the silence with a strange tension. He watched, entranced and wary, as they finally came to a stop - but something felt... off. A sense of foreboding crept into his mind, a low thrum of apprehension that gnawed at his instincts. Have I done the right thing? He wondered.

Leaving his path up to chance felt oddly reckless, even for him. And yet... there was something almost magnetic in the dice's movement, as if unseen forces had weighted their outcome.

The dice snapped into place on the stone floor, landing definitively on a single result: three. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his relief as fleeting as the quiet around him. Nothing strange happened, nothing unexpected - just a direction. He had his path.

Of course, the third tunnel - the one with a slightly darker, almost pulsing glow that seemed to tug at him with an invisible grip. "Figures. Spooky tunnel number three, right out of a horror flick."

Rolling his shoulders, he squared himself toward it, mentally preparing for whatever came next. But before he could take a step, a low, echoing hum filled the chamber, sending a chill through the mist. He paused, feeling an unnerving presence behind him. His hand went to his blade instinctively, though he knew that in a place like this, physical weapons might be just for show.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The voice was slick, darkly amused, dripping with the kind of self-satisfaction he’d usually only find in video game villains. Out of the shadows stepped a figure draped in armor that seemed to absorb the dim light. Twin red eyes glinted from beneath the figure’s hood.

Jaeden raised an eyebrow. "Nice cosplay. Let me guess - you’re the welcoming committee?"

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The figure chuckled, a low, sinister sound that reverberated off the stone walls. "Welcome? Oh no, you’re far beyond pleasantries now. Let’s just say I’m here to make sure you... enjoy the challenge. We wouldn’t want you taking the easy way, now would we?"

Jaeden let out a laugh, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising tension. "Buddy, easy isn’t even in my vocabulary. I don’t know who you are, but if you think a little intimidation is going to scare me off, you might want to work on your delivery."

The figure’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them growing colder. "We shall see. Every tunnel here holds a piece of you - your weaknesses, your fears, your limits. You’ll either emerge victorious... or not at all." He gestured to the fifth tunnel, his voice taking on an almost delighted tone. "Go ahead. The game awaits."

Jaeden’s grin slipped, just for a second, as he felt the weight of those words. But he brushed it off, squaring his shoulders and giving the figure a two-finger salute. "Watch and learn, pal. I’m not here to play by anyone’s rules."

He turned toward the third tunnel, heart racing, and strode forward. The darkness swallowed him, and the hum of his dice echoed faintly in his pocket - a reminder that luck, skill, or maybe a bit of both, was the only thing standing between him and whatever awaited in the shadows.

The instant Jaeden stepped through the third portal, he felt a shift. The air changed - thick, heavy, laced with something old and rank. Before, the air in this strange dimension had been crisp, almost purified, like breathing filtered air on a deep-sea dive. Here, it felt fetid, the scent of decay and shadows clinging to each breath. Instinctively, Jaeden’s senses sharpened, every nerve on high alert.

He was in another place, another reality altogether. Just like the old man said, he thought, recalling the cryptic instructions he’d received. The corridor around him began to take shape, stone walls resolving out of the murky shadows. It felt like a castle’s keep - rough-hewn, ancient stone stretching out in a claustrophobic passage lit by torches every few meters. The flames gave off a dim, eerie glow, casting elongated shadows that flickered with every movement.

As he pressed forward, a low, rhythmic hum filled the air. At first, he dismissed it as a trick of his senses, a lingering effect of crossing realms. But with each step, it grew, gaining resonance. The sound reminded him of Gregorian chants, a sonorous, haunting quality that prickled his skin. The corridor seemed endless, stretching into a darkness so deep he couldn’t see the far end.

Suddenly, the air around him shifted, darkening as if the shadows themselves were coiling, thickening. The faint hum of magic rippled through the air, and out of the murk, the stranger’s figure materialized, his crimson eyes glinting with a gleam of knowing.

“You really think you’re ready for this path?” the stranger’s voice slipped into the silence, smooth, mocking. “The Conclave’s halls aren’t forgiving to those who wander in unprepared... or to those who rely on chance.”

Jaeden met his gaze with a steady glare, unwilling to give the stranger the satisfaction of his unease. “Just here for the commentary, or do you have a point?”

The stranger chuckled, his laugh carrying a low, ominous undertone. “Oh, there’s always a point, Jaeden. Tell me, have you ever wondered why shadows cling so thickly in these passages? Why the air tastes of rot and poison?”

Jaeden clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to respond. The dark stranger was toying with him, but a part of him was drawn in, curious despite himself.

“They’ve built their strength on fear,” the figure continued, his voice a whisper edged with malice. “The Conclave didn’t simply corrupt this kingdom; they fed it, nurtured it, twisted every root and tendril of life here until it knew only decay. Even the swamp obeys them now.”

Jaeden’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ll have to do better than some overgrown weeds.”

“Amusing,” the figure replied, a hint of cold amusement in his tone. “But don’t let arrogance blind you. The Nine are not just leaders - they’re sentinels, each one a gatekeeper of knowledge and power, each one bound to the Conclave’s twisted heart.”

He leaned forward, his voice a dark murmur. “And the heart? It beats with an ancient curse - a curse that will consume any who enter unprepared. Tell me, Jaeden, what do you know of curses that echo?”

Jaeden felt a chill, though he held the dark man’s gaze defiantly. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

The stranger’s eyes gleamed, the slightest hint of approval flickering there. “Oh, you will. One by one, the Council’s secrets will reveal themselves. Each step deeper will make you wish you hadn’t come... or that you’d never even rolled those dice. But perhaps,” he added with a mocking bow, “you’ll surprise us both.”

With that, the dark form dissolved back into the shadows, his last words lingering in the stillness: “Remember - some doors only open once, and some paths lead only to ruin.”