The world tilted. Doors and torches hung from the ceiling instead of the floor, as if gravity had turned upside down and no one had told me. What the—? My head spun, the disorienting architecture warping my sense of reality. I instinctively reached up, but the inverted doors were well out of reach, mocking me.

With no other option, I pressed onward, one hand trailing along the wall for support. The stones felt cold and damp beneath my fingers, the only solid thing in this twisted place.

After what felt like an eternity of wandering through the bizarre corridor, I came upon a pair of large double doors that almost reached the ceiling—or the floor, in this strange, upside-down world. Straining, I managed to open them, stumbling forward and landing hard on my backside. The ground wasn’t where it should be, I thought bitterly as I groaned in pain.

I looked up and froze.

I was surrounded by a circle of robed figures. Their oversized brown robes draped over small frames, each adorned with a yellow, blazing key emblem—the same key I had tucked away in my inventory.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” one of them sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing, blood roaring in my ears. The cultists eyed me with a mix of surprise and... triumph? How did they know I was here?

“Is that... him?” whispered one cultist to another, barely hiding their excitement.

“Jamie, isn’t it?” another hissed, their voice sharp and venomous. “She's The one who stole the Sacred Key.”

My blood ran cold. They know my name.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” said a tall cultist, his hood casting a shadow over his eyes. “The Key belongs to us... and so does your life.”

“It’s nothing personal,” another chimed in, almost sympathetically. “But we need to harvest the Key’s power. And for that, you must die.”

They began to close in, forming a tightening circle around me. My chest tightened, panic clawing its way up my throat. No way out. Trapped.

“Gentlemen, let’s not be hasty!” boomed a voice from behind them.

The cultists paused, parting just enough to allow a flamboyant man to step forward. He was a stark contrast to the grim figures surrounding him, his boisterous demeanor completely at odds with the tension in the room. His bright, gaudy robes flared dramatically as he stepped into the light.

“What did I tell you?” he said with a theatrical wave of his hand. “Patience is a virtue!”

I blinked, my mind struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the man’s appearance with the deadly situation I found myself in. Who the hell is this guy?

I was oddly relieved that he was talking instead of acting. Maybe I could find a way out of this.

Without warning, I lunged at the flamboyant man, knocking him off balance. In one fluid motion, I drew my axe and swung it at the hulking bodyguard behind him. The blade sliced cleanly through his neck, and for a brief moment, everything was still—until blood spattered across the floor, and the bodyguard's head fell. The room erupted into chaos.

“At arms! At arms!” shouted the tall cultist with shadowed eyes, his voice commanding but laced with panic. The cultists drew their daggers, closing in on me once more.

My muscles screamed in protest, exhaustion weighing down my limbs like lead. Sweat dripped down my brow, and each breath came in ragged, painful gasps. I’m not ready for this. I’m too tired. The battle with the Manipede had drained me completely, and now, I stood on the brink of collapse.

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But I couldn’t give up. Not now. There had to be a way.

The scent of untainted food wafted from a banquet table at the side of the room. Roasted meats, fresh bread, ripe fruits—it was a feast fit for royalty, and my stomach growled painfully, reminding me just how weak I truly was.

An idea sparked in my mind.

With a primal roar, I charged towards the banquet table, startling the cultists. Their eyes widened in shock as I darted past them. One of the smaller cultists lunged at me, but I sidestepped, knocking him aside with a swift elbow to the ribs. Grabbing a ripe apple from the table, I bit into it, the sweet juice flooding my mouth. Instantly, I felt a rush of energy course through my veins, the weakness beginning to ebb away.

“Stop him! Don’t let him eat the sacred offerings!” the tall cultist bellowed, his voice rising in panic.

As I swallowed the bite, a warm sensation surged through me. The room began to glow with a soft, golden light that radiated from my body. The cultists recoiled, shielding their eyes as they stumbled back in fear.

“What is this?” one of them cried out.

“The Key! It’s reacting to him!” another shouted, pointing a trembling finger at me.

I could feel the power coursing through me, washing away the fatigue like a river sweeping away debris. My wounds began to knit themselves closed, and my senses sharpened to a level beyond anything I’d ever experienced. I locked eyes with the cultists, who were now cowering before me.

“You wanted the Key?” I said, my voice booming with newfound strength. “Come and take it.”

They hesitated, exchanging nervous glances.

“Attack!” the tall cultist ordered, but there was a tremor in his voice, betraying his fear.

There were five of them, and as I watched, they began a grotesque ritual. Their bodies contorted in unnatural ways—arms twisting, legs bending backward, and spines arching painfully. They chanted in a guttural language, each syllable sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, they clasped each other’s hands, forming a tight circle. A dark energy swirled around them, thick and oppressive. Slowly, their flesh began to meld together. Their robes tore apart as chitinous armor sprouted from their skin, and dozens of legs burst forth, each ending in a sharp claw.

I stared in horror as their faces merged into a single, nightmarish visage—a grotesque fusion of eyes, mouths, and twisted features. When the transformation was complete, they had become a massive manipede, far larger and more terrifying than the one I’d faced before.

The manipede let out a deafening screech, the sound vibrating through my chest. It lunged at me with blinding speed. I barely had time to react, swinging my legendary axe with all my might. The blade connected with one of its many legs, and flames erupted upon impact. The beast shrieked in pain, fire consuming the damaged limb.

The manipede recoiled, its countless eyes glaring at me with fury. The scent of burning chitin filled the air. The smaller manipedes—creatures spawned from the fusion—clicked their mandibles nervously, as if unsure whether to attack.

But there was no time to celebrate. The wounded beast turned on its own kind, snapping them up in its massive jaws. I watched in disbelief as it devoured the smaller manipedes, its body convulsing and growing larger with each gruesome bite.

“What... what is it doing?” I whispered, my grip tightening on the axe, every fiber of my being screaming to run, but my legs wouldn’t move.

[“Ah, the mother rhino is giving birth! How sweet!”] Malice’s voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. Of course. Mockery in the middle of this nightmare.

I barely heard him. All I could focus on was the massive creature looming before me, its form still twisting and growing as it fed on its own spawn. How am I supposed to stop this?

I glanced upward to see the dark purple crystal floating above my head, its facets gleaming ominously. Malice had been my enigmatic companion—if one could call a sentient crystal that—for as long as I could remember. His mocking commentary was hardly ever helpful, but now, I couldn't tell if I needed it or despised it.

"Not now, Malice," I muttered.

The manipede's exoskeleton began to harden, forming an almost impenetrable shell. I dashed forward and struck with all my might, but the axe bounced off uselessly, the reverberation numbing my arms. Shock jolted through me, and despair threatened to crush me.

I could run. My body screamed for it, my mind begged for it. Just run. Escape. Leave this thing behind. But something deep inside told me that running wouldn’t save me—defeating this monstrosity was the only way out of this nightmare. Fight or die.

The manipede reared up, its multiple heads snapping and drooling venom. I backed away, putting as much distance between us as I could. My heart pounded in my chest, each thud a reminder that time was running out.

Cracks started to appear in the manipede's shell. For a moment, hope flickered. Was it weakening? But then the shell split open, and what emerged would haunt me for the rest of my life.