Mike took a deep breath as he stepped deeper into the cave. The wide entrance, where he'd witnessed the terrifying tribulation, was behind him now, and the darkened cavern seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him. His eyes adjusted to the faint light given off by the glowing fungi on the walls, their soft blue illumination providing just enough visibility to navigate the jagged rocks.
The air grew cooler as he ventured further in, and despite the sense of isolation, he couldn't shake the feeling that this place had more to offer than what met the eye.
He soon found himself in a large chamber. An opening in the ceiling allowed a thin stream of sunlight to filter through, casting a faint beam onto the floor. Beneath the light was a stone slab, smooth and flat, as if it had been deliberately placed there. Mike's gaze lingered on it, feeling an inexplicable pull toward the spot. It looked almost... inviting, like a sanctuary where he could rest and gather his thoughts.
But something else caught his attention. At the far end of the chamber, he noticed a patch of greenery—a small grove of twisted trees bearing fruit. Mike approached cautiously, half-expecting it to be an illusion in the dim light. Yet, as he reached out and touched the soft, orange skin of one of the fruits, he realized it was very real.
"These might keep me alive for a while," he muttered to himself, plucking a few from the branches. The fruit had a strange, almost spicy aroma. He took a bite, and to his surprise, it was not only edible but surprisingly refreshing. As he ate, he felt an unusual surge of energy. The mental fatigue from the earlier scene with the beast seemed to lift, and he could almost feel his body growing stronger with each bite.
"Well, at least I won't starve," he said with a more optimistic tone, his spirits lifted by the unexpected boost. He also spotted a small pond of water nearby, fed by a trickle of water seeping from the stone wall. Mike knelt by the edge, dipping his hand into the clear water and bringing it to his lips. The water was cold, refreshing, and tasted pure. As he drank, he felt a subtle, invigorating rush through his system, further increasing his sense of vitality.
As he took another bite of the fruit, Mike's thoughts turned back to the beast he had seen during the tribulation. The image of that powerful creature struggling against the red thunder, the way it absorbed energy to strengthen itself—this memory struck a chord deep within him. He could almost feel the beast's desperation, its sheer willpower to survive.
"I can't be weak," Mike said to himself, a determined edge to his voice. "If I want to be strong like that beast, I need to push myself."
"I'll start with what I know," he whispered to himself. "I can't become some kind of mystical warrior overnight... but I can train."
Mike's past life as a sports enthusiast gave him a solid foundation for physical training. He remembered the basics from his old routines and decided to put them to use. Each day, he began with push-ups, feeling the strain in his arms and chest as he pushed against the cave floor. Next came sit-ups, which worked his core muscles and made him acutely aware of his physical limits. Planks followed, challenging his endurance and stability.
Despite the initial discomfort and fatigue, he found a strange comfort in the familiarity of these exercises. They reminded him of the life he had lost, and with every rep, he felt a little more in control of his new reality.
As he trained, he kept track of his meals and rest. The fruits and water from the cave became crucial parts of his routine. He ate at regular intervals, ensuring he stayed well-nourished and energetic. The strange, invigorating effects of the fruit and water helped him maintain his stamina and recover from his workouts.
As evening approached, Mike settled onto the stone slab and began to meditate. The memory of the beast's tribulation became his anchor, the image of that terrifying red thunder etched into his mind. He tried to recreate the feeling he had sensed—the way the beast had absorbed the energy, how it had channeled that power into its body.
Hours would pass as he sat in silence, focusing on the faint hum of energy that seemed to linger in the cave. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but he could feel it if he concentrated hard enough. It was like a current, flowing through the air, and though he couldn't grasp it yet, he knew it was there.
"Just a little more," he would whisper to himself. "I'm getting closer."
Sleep came only when exhaustion took over, and he would drift off on the stone slab, gazing up at the stars through the opening above. In those quiet moments, just before sleep claimed him, he would feel a strange sense of peace. Despite everything—the isolation, the danger, the uncertainty—there was a small part of him that felt... alive. For the first time in a long time, he had a purpose. A path, even if it was still shrouded in mystery.
And so, his days passed in this quiet, solitary rhythm. Training, meditating, surviving. Each day a step closer to something unknown, something powerful.