Chapter 121: Descent into Madness
The ground split open instantly before them.
The sudden collapse in the ground forced Natasha to let out just a quick breath before the plunge into their uncontrollable fall. The deep air attack exposed her flesh while the bottomless pit devoured everything in one single breath. Absolute darkness enveloped their freefall and the moment lasted so long that they feared they would continue to plummet perpetually.
Then—impact.
The collision from the descent caused severe impacts but they found no stable surface. Instead, Natasha felt herself sinking. There beneath her feet lay something softer than earth or rocks which turned out to be burnt remains of ash. The figure tried to stand yet she was enveloped by massive clouds of gray dust that made her cough desperately. Her tongue suffered a bitter ash taste which resembled old decayed matter.
A comforting sound from her memory played in her thoughts.
[You Have Entered the Second Trial – The Labyrinth of Lost Souls]
[Warning: Sanity Drain Active | No Map Available]
With her heart racing Natasha removed her face from her sleeve to view her position. All survivors coughed and struggled to stand after the initial impact of the landslide but Dren used his strength to push his body up with a combination of swearing at his situation. Focusing on his sword Alison managed to rise first and grabbed his weapon. Ira lowered herself onto the ash soil but her magic-resistant hands fluttered with nervousness while attempting to cast spells. Heavy breathing escaped Dren while he hit the unstable surface with his clenched fist.
The air was thick.
Not just with dust, but with something else—something unseen. The invisible substance clung to their flesh before winding into their respiration followed by mental occupation.
And then she heard it.
The whispers.
During its initial phase the wind produced noises that reminded her of a hollow cave. Time extended our visit at that location and the shapes started to become more recognizable. The haze appeared to become too thick for words to pass through so they lingered like ghostly hands before anyone caught them.
Her sudden movement triggered a disturbing growth of tension as she gripped her weapon harder. Not just whispers—figures.
A few faint shaped figures traversed the mist which made them difficult to see. The spirits glided just past detection while sending signals like ghosts from departed souls into the realm of existence.
Alison stiffened up her body while surveying the area attentively. "We need to move—now."
The enchantment refused to obey her as the light failed to become spell notification in her palms. Her brows furrowed in frustration. "I can't—" she swallowed. The machine provides no signals at all. The area seems to transform before our eyes.
Dren kicked the ash on the ground while emitting an expressionless chuckle through his lips. "Perfect. Such a maze actively resists all attempts at leaving.
The ash ground beneath their feet seemed to become agitated after Dren's words.
A new direction emerged after the landing as the ground gently deformed itself. The entrance proved inaccessible where they entered. Gone. No sign it had ever existed.
And then—the whispering stopped.
Silence pressed against them. A heartbeat of stillness.
Then—the screaming began.
The shadows lunged.
The first lost soul appeared before Natasha could respond to whatever was happening around her.
They weren't just specters.
The former warriors fought alongside them before becoming grotesque survivors from their previous lives. A broken body combined with hollow eyes united with suffering expressions completed the horrific appearance of these spirits.
The specter extended its fingers toward Natasha while its bones flexed like animal claws.
"Help me."
She swung her sword instinctively. The blade cut through empty space before the figure returned to its original form as its strength continued to increase within a few seconds.
Alison proceeded by destroying another spirit. The specter remained intact after his sword cut into it despite his attempt. The abomination let out one raw and never-endingcry before it resumed its ability to survive.
Fear manifested through Ira's voice as she spoke "They won't die." "They can't die."
Without hesitation Dren escaped a razor-like attack to his arm while biting down on his teeth. "Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!"
Natasha's mind raced.
Think. Think.
The creatures did not try to hurt them because of irrational hatred. They were desperate.
His confused mind spent endless time imprisoned in the shifting labyrinth until insanity set in. If they didn't move—
Her eyes caught it.
Through the haze, a flicker of something different.
A structure—an archway.
She studied the structure but failed to understand its content other than that it existed as something concrete.
"We have to go!" she shouted, pointing toward the barely visible gateway ahead. "There's an opening—MOVE!"
The team ran.
The labyrinth responded.
Ash consumed the entire path behind the escaping expedition as the route dissolved into emptiness. The spirits unleashed their scream which filled both ears and hearts with loud pain. The surrounding air put a physical pressure on Natasha's body as it thickened to that consistency.
The entrance was close. So close.
And then—she saw it.
A presence blocked her route to escape between the archway and her freedom
A shadow.
Not just any shadow.
A person.
Natasha's chest felt a sudden shock when she saw the figure standing there whose demeanor pierced through the moving mist.
Her heart stopped.
No.
It wasn't possible.
A slow steps emerged from the figure. When the mist briefly cleared she got a short view of their obscured facial features. Recognition hit Natasha suddenly just like a violent stabbing against her stomach.
She recognized him as someone who had disappeared from her life many years before.
Someone who should be dead.
The force of her heartbeat filled her ears while muffling all other sounds.
"...No," she whispered.
Near her the figure faced in her direction.
And smiled.
Fear froze her stomach as she clutched her weapon harder. Her grip intensified on the weapon until her knuckles produced an intense white color.
This was an illusion. It had to be.
Yet—it felt so real.
The eyes, the slight tilt of the head, the familiar warmth behind that smile—
No.
Her throat tightened.
Alison managed to stop right next to her. "Natasha?" Concern dripped from his voice but his tone remained aloof as if he were talking from a space far away. "What's wrong?"
She couldn't answer.
The figure extended its hand while facing her with an upward gesture to indicate entry.
A gentle gesture. This was a gesture that used to represent both safety and acceptance.
She wanted to step closer.
She almost did.
Then—
The figure's smile twisted.
A jagged, unnatural curve.
A black shadow moved beneath their exterior and revealed itself from under their epidermal layer. Their body structure began collapsing so their shape took an abnormal twisted form.
The warmth vanished.
In its place—emptiness.
A voice—their voice—whispered.
"Come home, Natasha."
A chill shot down h
er spine.
Another free-fall seized her body before she knew it.
Not into darkness.
Such terrifying events pulled her deeper into a nightmare without any way out.