Chapter 78: Whispers of the Labyrinth
Natasha and Alison returned to the main chamber, now dimly lit by the renewed glow of the first shard's energy. The intricate carvings on the walls shifted subtly, almost as if the jungle itself was reacting to their progress.
"So," Alison began, glancing at the pathways ahead. "Which death trap do we try next?"
Natasha studied the carvings carefully. Each path was marked with symbols—one showed twisting vines, the second depicted swirling water, and the third bore jagged, thorn-like lines. She pointed to the path with the swirling water.
"This one," she said. "It feels... calmer, in a way. Less violent."
Alison raised an eyebrow. "Calmer? You sure about that? Because calm in this place could just mean 'easier to drown.'"
She smirked. "You'd rather pick the one with the thorns?"
He sighed. "Fine. Water it is."
The River of Illusions
The path led them down a sloping tunnel, the air growing cooler with each step. Soon, the sound of rushing water filled the air, echoing off the stone walls. They emerged into a cavern where a river flowed through, its surface shimmering unnaturally.
Alison knelt by the edge, dipping his hand in. "It's... warm," he said, frowning. "And it feels... weird."
Natasha crouched beside him, staring at the water. The surface reflected not the cavern, but a clear, star-filled sky. Her breath caught as the reflection shifted, showing her childhood home.
"It's an illusion," she whispered.
Before Alison could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered, and a voice echoed through the cavern.
"Face the truth, or be lost in the lies."
The river began to churn, its surface breaking into swirling currents. Without warning, tendrils of water reached out, pulling Natasha and Alison into the river's depths.
A Test of Memories
Natasha gasped as she was plunged underwater, the warmth of the river enveloping her. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the cavern. She stood in her childhood bedroom, sunlight streaming through the window.
"Natasha?" A familiar voice called out. She turned to see her mother standing in the doorway, a warm smile on her face.
Her chest tightened. "Mom?"
"It's been so long," her mother said, stepping forward. "Why don't you stay? You don't need to keep fighting. You're safe here."
Natasha's instincts screamed that this wasn't real, but the warmth, the comfort—it felt so real.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "This isn't right."
Her mother's smile faltered. "Why fight, Natasha? You'll only get hurt. They'll abandon you, like before. Stay here. Stay where it's safe."
Natasha clenched her fists, tears brimming in her eyes. "You're not real," she said firmly. "And I'm not giving up."
The room dissolved around her, and she was back in the river, fighting the current. She spotted Alison ahead, struggling against his own illusion.
Breaking Free
Alison stood in a dense jungle, alone. Voices surrounded him—his old unit, calling for help.
"Alison, don't leave us!"
"You could have saved us!"
"Why did you survive when we didn't?"
His hands trembled as he gripped his machete. "No," he muttered. "I've carried this guilt long enough. I couldn't save you, but I'm not letting it stop me anymore."
The jungle around him shattered like glass, and he too found himself back in the river. Natasha reached out, grabbing his arm.
"Come on!" she shouted.
Together, they fought their way to the riverbank, gasping for air as they crawled onto solid ground. Behind them, the river calmed, its surface once again reflecting the starry sky.
The Second Shard
In the center of the cavern, a pedestal rose from the water, the second shard glowing atop it. Natasha approached cautiously, her dagger in hand.
As she touched the shard, a surge of energy coursed through her. The shard dissolved into light, merging with the dagger and strengthening its glow.
Alison stood, still catching his breath. "Two down," he said, his voice hoarse. "One to go."
Natasha nodded, determination burning in her eyes. "Let's finish this."
They turned back toward the main chamber, the final trial waiting ahead.