*sqach
*sqich
The two landed on two soft, squishy, and fleshy sacs for a ground, still very clearly inside something.
This place was different from before, but it was still as clichéd as any other. It was an obstacle course with blades and breathing platforms. Failure to time which would result in falling to the bottom of the acidic digestive pit of enzymes or whatever.
"I am sure you know the rules, almighty Seer, because so do I," echoed a voice through the chamber.
It was the sick fuck, no surprise there.
"I was there once, giving the same trial so I could walk the path of the tentacles... Now it's yours. If you wish to live, go forth, make it to the end of the room, and you're free... temporarily, at least, out of the clutches of my tentacles... physically, at least. Metaphorically speaking, you'll never escape from my tentacles."
