Faster now, rushing into the chamber like a sudden downpour. I swallowed a breath of stale air, the cold water nipping at my legs as it surged. The room was filling like an hourglass turned upside down. There was no going back.

The water reached my waist, and I kicked off, swimming toward the exit. The cold seeped into my muscles, making every stroke sluggish, my body protesting the movement. Just a little further. Come on. My arms ached, but I forced myself to push through, feeling the pressure of the water building behind me. When I reached the edge of the bridge, I pulled myself up, collapsing onto the stone, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I sat there, shivering, my body still trembling from the adrenaline. Drops of water ran down my skin, the sound of the rising water beneath me growing louder, echoing off the walls like a slow, deliberate drumbeat. For a moment, doubt gnawed at me again. Had this been a mistake? Was I going to drown in here?

But then, just as my mind began to spiral, the water surged, filling the chamber faster and faster. The once tranquil surface began to rise rapidly, and with it, my heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and hope tangling together.

Finally, the water reached the top. It settled, a smooth, glassy surface, and I realized with a breath of relief—I had made it. I wasn't trapped after all.

But the relief was short-lived.

The heart, pulsing above me, beat faster now. Louder. Angrier. Its frenetic rhythm drummed in my skull, each beat hammering home the unsettling reality—I was still inside this monstrous, living thing. I wiped the water from my face, eyes fixed on the grotesque organ. The way it throbbed and contracted—it didn’t feel like the chaotic insides of a beast. No, this place was too deliberate. Too controlled. Every beat, every twist of this flesh prison, felt like a carefully constructed trial. An intricate, calculated part of Penance.

But it was a moot point. None of it mattered—until I could break free from the hands of the ones pulling the strings, until I could find my way back to Blake, everything else was just noise. Hope stirred faintly in my chest, a fragile thread. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the end of the level, and I could finally claim the golden page.

As I moved forward, the next room stretched before me, dim and oppressive, like a forgotten vault sealed away from the world. The silence was almost tangible here, pressing down on me, thick and stifling. My footsteps echoed, muffled by the heavy air, the sense of wrongness creeping over me like a cold breeze. At first glance, the room appeared empty—a dead end.

No. Not again. I refused to believe it was just another dead end.

I took a slow, deliberate breath, steadying the growing frustration in my chest. There had to be something here. My eyes scanned the walls, the floor, even the ceiling, looking for any clue, any out-of-place detail that might hide a solution. The room was unnervingly still. No traps, no obvious mechanisms, just smooth stone walls and a floor coated in dust—dust that hadn’t been disturbed in what looked like years.

Except for a set of faint marks on the floor.

I crouched, fingers brushing lightly over the surface. Faint grooves. Subtle but present, running in a narrow path, like something heavy had been dragged across the floor. My heart quickened. There was something here. I just couldn’t see it.

Invisible?

The thought struck me like a flash of lightning. I stood, my hands outstretched, feeling around for something that wasn’t there. My fingertips brushed against nothingness, but the weight was unmistakable. Slowly, carefully, I pushed forward, the resistance barely noticeable at first. Sweat beaded on my brow as I strained against the invisible force, my muscles tensing as I shoved the unseen object across the floor. The grinding sound echoed in the silence, and I grinned despite myself.

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There was a click, soft but satisfying, as the hidden switch depressed beneath the invisible weight. The air shifted, a low rumble shaking the walls, and the floor trembled beneath my feet. I stepped back, eyes widening as the stone in front of me shifted and slid apart. A spiral staircase emerged, winding upwards into the shadows above.

A way out.

Without hesitation, I began to climb. Each step echoed in the tight passage, the air growing thinner and colder the higher I went. My legs burned with the effort, every muscle screaming in protest as I ascended what felt like an endless spiral. The oppressive silence returned, broken only by my ragged breathing and the soft scrape of my boots against stone. Time blurred. Had it been minutes? Hours? I couldn’t tell anymore. All I knew was that I had to keep going.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I stumbled into a small, square room. The air here felt different—thicker, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. My gaze fell on the single door ahead of me, and my breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t just a door. It was massive, ancient, with a ridiculously ornate keyhole that seemed more fitting for a king’s treasure vault than a random room in this twisted place. Carvings of swirling symbols covered the wood, almost hypnotic in their intricate patterns.

The boss key felt heavier in my hand as I approached, its cold metal sending a shiver up my arm. I slid it into the keyhole, the sound of it turning echoing like a thunderclap in the small room. With a low, groaning creak, the door swung open, revealing darkness beyond.

I stepped through, and my stomach dropped.

The room wasn’t empty. Floating in the center, surrounded by a faint, eerie glow, was a giant brain. A grotesque, pulsating mass of nerves and veins, its surface rippling with electric energy. But this wasn’t just any brain. It was encased in a jelly-like substance, tendrils of it trailing off into the darkness. The red, electric jellyfish. Only now, it was massive.

Before I could react, the creature’s tentacles shot out like daggers, their movements sharp and deadly. I threw myself to the side, barely dodging the first volley as the tips of the tendrils grazed my arm. A searing pain shot through me, but there was no time to think about it. The creature’s body pulsed, glowing brighter as it flung out massive electric bombs—crackling spheres of energy that tore through the air, trailing arcs of lightning.

I ducked behind a crumbling pillar, the blast from one of the bombs nearly knocking me off my feet. The air around me crackled with static, my skin prickling with the charged energy that filled the room. My breathing came fast, shallow. I couldn’t afford to let panic take over, not now. I had to think. I had to fight.

But the creature wasn’t letting up. It lashed out again, tentacles whipping through the air with deadly precision. One struck the pillar I was using for cover, shattering it into rubble. I barely had time to move before another tentacle came hurtling toward me.

I was running on fumes. Every movement felt slower, heavier. My body ached, my mind screamed for rest. I needed to heal. With a shaky hand, I gathered what little mana I had left and cast a healing spell. Warmth spread through my body, the wounds on my arm knitting themselves back together. But it wasn’t enough. I cast the spell again. And again. Each time, the mana drained from me, leaving me more exhausted, more vulnerable.

I was empty.

And the brain—its electric pulses growing fiercer—was far from finished. Its tentacles coiled, ready to strike again, and I had nothing left. No mana. No plan.

Failure wasn’t an option. I couldn’t die here, not after everything. Not when I was so close. I clenched my fists, my heart hammering in my chest, and braced myself.

I needed a plan—fast.

I stepped through the ornate door, and the moment I crossed the threshold, the air changed—heavier, suffocating. The chamber was vast, shrouded in shadow, with only a faint, unnatural glow illuminating its center. My breath caught in my throat.

There it was.

A grotesque, pulsating brain, floating in midair, encased in a translucent, jelly-like membrane that pulsed with an ominous red light. Electric veins of energy crackled across its surface, tracing the contours of its swollen mass like twisted lightning. Its tendrils—long, whip-like tentacles—hung in the air, twitching with a predatory sense of awareness.

A cold dread washed over me. This was no ordinary boss fight. This thing radiated malice, and as its tentacles began to writhe, I felt the weight of its intent. It wasn’t just trying to kill me—it wanted to make it hurt.