Zef exited the portal, shivering. His legs suddenly lost strength, and he fell to his knees, gasped then hugged himself.

He felt so cold, colder than the most frigid desert night. So chilled that he felt like he just emerged out of a freezing lake. Short on breath, he gasped for air, his skin's cold receptors stimulated to the utmost.

He knelt there for what seemed moments as his body got accustomed to the sudden change of temperature. Finally, he got his breathing under control. His brain started to function again and prompted him that there was still was an impending threat in pursuit; so with still shivering hands, he grabbed onto the walking stick that was sprawled next to him and pushed himself to his feet with a groan.

Move..move..move!!!

He glanced around and found himself inside another cavern filled with stalactites but no pond this time. Behind him was the shimmering black portal from which he had entered through, and Zef knew that he had to stop delaying.

The shivering lessened as he limped towards the cavern's exit and found himself looking at a yellow brick road that led to the abyss surrounded by a grey mist from all sides. It was like standing in a massive tunnel, except the walls were made out of a thick grey haze. The sky above had the same texture, but many dark clouds were swirling with scant light entering through whatever gaps they could find. The mist had a distinct smell, he couldn't classify the scent, but it felt old and dangerous.

Oh god! I'm in hell...

Looking at the new environment fearfully, he didn't want to leave the cavern, but that monster centipede could be on his tail soon, and he didn't have the strength or weapons to fight it. Instead, he took a shuddering breath and followed the yellow brick road, muttering prayers.

Zef walked, and his antennas tasted the air. The air felt damp, but that didn’t stop the sweat from pouring down his shivering body, he had the urge to run as fast as possible, but his injury and exhaustion helped him curb his paranoia's demand.

Instead, he limped faster, a headache started to form at the pain of his broken foot, but he put it at the back of his mind as he watched the endless mist around him. However, the mist never crossed his path.

Instead, it always stood at the borders of the yellow road. That didn't stop him from straining his senses; he also looked behind him several times; luckily, there was no indication that a monstrous bug was following him. He pondered whether he should head back towards the cavern until his sensitive ears picked up sounds of some sort ahead of him.

He stalled and used his vision to zoom in. His eyes identified a dot in the distance entangled in some dance. Zef frowned and slowly kept walking to get a better look. He heard a scream of pain which made him shudder and blink. By the time he looked again, it was gone.

Zef wanted to turn around. That scream sounded human, and it was a cry of fear; scary as it was, it also meant that there were people here. People who can either help him and treat his wounds, or they could do worse and hurt him. Zef stood still thinking, "If I turn back, that absurd bug could be lying in wait, or I could venture ahead cautiously and get more clues. I'm pretty sure I heard a person."

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He lingered for some time before finally making a decision and ventured ahead, straining his senses, getting closer and closer to where he had marked that dot. Accompanied him was the sound of his breathing and the tapping of his walking stick against the road with every limp.

Finally, he saw distinct objects on the ground. His eyes zoomed in to find clothing and weapons of some sort lying on the ground and, most importantly, a satchel and a belt.

He limped ever more warily, looking at his surroundings for any hidden enemies or traps. He took a second to smell the air, and there were various scents. Blood, the obvious strange mist, and sweat, he kept sniffing the air, and the scent of meat entered his nostrils as he breathed it in, and his eyes dampened. He followed the trace towards the satchel. It was somewhat small, had a purple color to it.

He bent down and picked up the bag, flipped the cover to find several triangular purple leaves inside that served as a container of some sort as he could smell different types of food inside. As per his nose, he did find food; there were several dried beef strips, biscuits, and berries affirming his sensitive nose.

He looked at his surroundings like a wild beast about to prey on its victim. His environment looked normal except for the mist at the side of the road. It seemed a bit brighter in this area than its usual dull grey. His eyes could differentiate the different colors of shades in the dark. The heavy mist wasn’t its typical hue in his current area.

Zef hugged the satchel and grabbed the first leafy container, and uncovered it. He quickly took a quick bite of the first jerky his hand landed on, his canines ripping into it. It didn’t take Zef long to go on a feeding frenzy. He was about to open up his fourth pack but restrained himself from finish up the remaining rations. He looked inside the satchel, saw a wooden canteen, corked it open, and then sniffed its insides. Tiny tears formed at the corner of his eyes. Zef gulped down water greedily.

It was heaven; his mind squealed in joy. The water was unbelievably fresh, weirdly cold, and very much nourishing. He had to stop himself unwillingly as he burped loudly.

Zef put the canteen back and dropped the satchel. He picked up the purple belt, which had nine pockets and long vials within them. He counted seven only, the red and green ones had only two, while the blue vials had three. He noticed the two empty pockets.

Zef uncorked the red vial and sniffed it; medicine came to mind. The same medicine his parents used to make him swallow when he was a child sick with a fever.

On the other hand, the green vials had the scent of old herbs, and the blue vial smelled of desert flowers. He put those back into their pockets and limped towards the blades. The blades were single-edged swords. They were thin but long and slightly curved at the end and had a bluish glint to them. The hilt was made out of wood and had no handles but was quite the craftsmanship.

"Katanas," he thought as he picked up one of the blades dropping the belt gently in the process.

He held the blade with his right hand and realized it seemed quite small against his 7-foot build.

As he swung the katana numerous times, an entity emerged out of the misty walls behind him. His antennas felt a change in the air and warned him to look behind.

Zef looked behind, and his body froze as a mist-like entity stared at him. It had the shape of a human with two hands and two feet. A slim waist, the faint form of tiny breasts, and the creepy tendrils of mist that clothed her.

What was more shocking was its feminine face which had a button nose, long ears just like his, short hair that hovered, and slanted eyes which had a dull red color, like something out of a horror movie.

He wanted to say something. So he backed up a bit with his walking stick, sword still in hand, and before he could speak.

She grinned at him. The misty tendrils that clothed her whirled excitedly around her hands to form two blades; they looked similar to the one he was holding.

Zef groaned.