I bolted away from the advancing army, my heart pounding in time with my frantic steps. Each crash through the underbrush, every twig snapping beneath my boots, was a dead giveaway of my position, but I didn’t care. The soldiers' shouts grew louder, zeroing in on me, but I focused on my destination—the center of the swarm marked on the map. It promised both danger and opportunity. My plan was hasty, a desperate scheme born of necessity. Having cleared the floor in such a bizarre manner, I knew the soldiers wouldn’t help—they’d kill me without a second thought. But I was confident I could manipulate them into aiding me, even if they didn’t know it.
The forest suddenly thinned, and I stumbled to a halt. The canopy that had shielded me gave way to an open expanse of frozen wasteland. The cold hit me like a wall, harsh and biting. I caught my breath, scanning the alien landscape. The tundra stretched out endlessly, a sea of white under a dark, oppressive sky. It felt like I had crossed into another world entirely.
Snow fell in thick, swirling sheets, stinging my face before melting against my armor. The ground crunched underfoot, sharp and hollow in the silence. Each breath burned my lungs, the cold air like knives cutting deep. The chill crept into my bones, sapping my strength, but I forced myself to move. I couldn’t marvel at the sudden change in terrain or the creeping nightfall. The soldiers were still behind me, and my window of opportunity was closing fast.
I trudged forward, each step heavier than the last, the cold gnawing at my extremities. The deeper I ventured, the fainter the shouts became, muffled by the thick curtain of snow. A small victory, but one that kept me moving. Yet with every minute, my hands and feet grew number. Frostbite was creeping in, silent and deadly. Hypothermia loomed, and it hit me hard—I might actually die out here.
Just as despair threatened to take hold, I saw it—a flicker of brightness in the distance, faint but unmistakable. Hope surged in my chest, pushing me to run despite the cold weighing me down. That small light was my only chance. Each breath felt like an icy blade, the air freezing me from the inside, but the promise of warmth kept me going.
The light grew stronger, revealing a cave. Salvation. I staggered forward, but my strength finally gave out as I crossed the threshold, and darkness swallowed me whole.
When I woke hours later, the fire was gone, leaving me shivering in the ghostly glow Malice provided. My body ached, and panic gnawed at the edges of my mind as I forced myself to stand. The fire had burned out, along with any security it had offered.
"Malice, can you shine brighter?" My voice cracked, betraying the fear I tried to keep down.
[I am already the brightest star around. But I can talk more if that's what you mean.]
"Shut up. I meant, light up the cave, you feckless baboon." Frustration boiled over, my fear spilling out as irritation.
[Hey, I’ll have you know I am full of Feck. I am so Feckful that you’ll never hear the end of it now, you dimwitted Lèse-majesté. In fact, just for that, hmmph.] Despite his faux indignation, Malice’s light intensified, revealing more of the cave.
I exhaled, tension easing slightly as I could finally see the path ahead. The walls seemed to close in, transforming from rough stone to smooth, ominous bricks. It felt like walking into the maw of some ancient beast. The air grew heavy, thick with the weight of forgotten secrets. My heart pounded, a constant reminder of the thin line between life and death.
In the center of the cave, I saw it—a pile of cold ash, the remnants of a campfire. A shiver ran down my spine. Whoever had been here was long gone, but something told me they hadn’t left willingly. Strange scratches marked the floor, and in the growing light, small splatters of blood became visible. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t alone.
"Malice... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have insulted you," I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. I needed him on my side.
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[Uh huh, sure.]
"No, really. I was mad because you said the floor would end, and it hasn’t. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you."
[Alright, but if it happens again, I’m eating your spleen.]
"I—what?"
[You heard me.]
Malice’s light didn’t waver, and I was grateful for that. The cave was as bright as midday, the unnatural glow almost too much in the darkness. I knew better than to push my luck with complaints. Dealing with Malice was like dealing with a capricious monarch—appease him, but never show fear.
I laughed softly at the absurdity of my situation, the sound bouncing off the cave walls as I pressed on. The scent of decay grew thicker, filling the air, and soon the floor was littered with animal carcasses. Fresh blood marked a path ahead, and a sense of dread curled deep in my gut.
The cave floor leveled out, revealing the aftermath of a gruesome battle. Whoever had been here hadn’t left—they’d been dragged away, and whatever had taken them was still out there. My skin crawled as I realized I wasn’t just in danger. I was walking into something much worse.
With a shaky breath, I drew my sword, the familiar weight giving me a small measure of comfort. I couldn’t afford to be caught off guard, not in this place where danger lurked in every shadow. My senses were on high alert, every sound amplified in the eerie silence of the cave.
Then, something caught my eye—a single brick embedded in the wall. It was out of place in the natural surroundings, its presence inexplicable. I approached it cautiously, half-expecting it to trigger some sort of trap. But when I pressed it, nothing happened. I frowned, my curiosity growing despite the tension thrumming through my body.
As I moved forward, I noticed more bricks appearing in the walls, the cave gradually transforming into something else—a castle or a dungeon, perhaps. The transition was unnerving, the bricks multiplying as the piles of trash and bones grew larger. The air grew colder, and the oppressive silence was finally broken by the faintest sound—scratching, like rats skittering along the walls.
Then, without warning, a deafening roar shattered the silence, the sound so powerful that my eardrums felt like they were exploding. Pain lanced through my head, driving me to my knees as I dropped my sword and clutched at my helmet. The world spun wildly, and tears stung my eyes as I struggled to remain conscious.
Of course, that was when the Trolyiard attacked.
The creature was a nightmare made flesh, a twisted amalgamation of madness and malice. Its feet were literal rats, squirming and biting, while its mottled gray-green skin stretched unnaturally over a skeletal frame. Its beady, owl-like eyes gleamed with malevolent intelligence, and its massive, three-clawed hands twitched with anticipation. The sheer wrongness of it made my stomach churn, and for a moment, all I could do was stare in horror.
I felt rather than heard Malice’s pronouncement: [Critical hit: 30 damage]. The impact of the creature’s attack was like a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves of pain through my entire body. Even with my armor, I knew I couldn’t withstand many more blows like that. My survival instincts kicked in, and I rolled to the side just as the Trolyiard lunged again, barely grabbing my sword in time.
The blade felt heavy in my hands, and the pounding headache threatened to overwhelm me. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but I forced it down, focusing on the fight. I swung at the creature’s feet, aiming to sever the weak joint, but the Trolyiard was faster than I anticipated. My sword clanged uselessly against the brick wall, the vibration jolting up my arm.
The creature retaliated with a swift kick, its rat-foot slamming into my head. My world tilted, and I barely managed to lift my visor before I vomited, the acidic bile splattering onto the Trolyiard’s grotesque feet. My stomach clenched in pain, and I scrambled away, desperately trying to regain my bearings as the creature prepared to strike again.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my gauntlet, I tried to shake off the dizziness, my vision swimming as I focused on the abomination before me. Survival was no longer just a goal—it was a desperate, all-consuming need. I had to kill this thing, or I’d never make it out of this nightmare alive.
The soulless eyes of the monstrosity glared back read in the overwhelming light of Malie. Despite his claim that he would stop, it was almos unbearably bright now like staring into the sun.
The Trolyiard roared—a high-pitched, bone-chilling sound that echoed through the chamber, rattling in my skull. I gritted my teeth, sweat pouring down my brow. The creature's three-clawed hands twitched, ready to strike again. My body screamed at me to move, but everything felt sluggish—my limbs leaden, my vision narrowing. I wasn’t going to survive another hit. I needed to think fast.