Episode 2: Lost in Thoughts
As I ventured deeper into the Lost City, the atmosphere shifted from a lively adventure to an eerie silence that sent shivers down my spine. It was as if the air itself had decided to take a vacation, leaving behind an unsettling stillness. The city, once vibrant and bustling, was now a shadow of its former self. Crumbling buildings were draped in vines and moss, as if nature were trying to reclaim its territory. The structures seemed to lean into each other, sharing secrets with the wind—a wind that felt like it had been holding its breath for centuries.
The air felt weird—thicker, heavier, and perhaps slightly magical. Some plants glowed with a strange luminescence, casting ghostly light across the abandoned streets. It was the kind of glow that would have sent any sensible person running, but my curiosity was a stubborn beast that refused to be tamed. The streets were empty, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird, as if even the wildlife had decided to keep its distance.
As I wandered through the deserted city, I passed a broken fountain with murky water that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the last great calamity. I mean, seriously, who thought a greenish-brown pool was an acceptable centerpiece? The once grand temple loomed in the distance, a hollow shell of its former beauty, its windows cracked and gaping like empty eyes. It looked like the perfect place for a horror movie—if only I had brought some popcorn.
Suddenly, I stumbled upon bizarre contraptions that looked like they belonged in a fantasy movie—or a science fiction one gone horribly wrong. They had gears and levers that seemed to defy the laws of physics. I had no idea what they did, but they looked important, which meant they were probably very dangerous. After all, in every story, the character who touches the mysterious machinery usually ends up either cursed or trapped in a dimension where everyone speaks in riddles.
Strange symbols were etched into the walls, glowing softly as if they were trying to communicate. I reached for my phone to snap a selfie with one of them, thinking it might be a great addition to my "Adventures in Weird Places" album. But, of course, my phone chirped, "No signal." Shocked, I muttered, "What a surprise. I guess I'll have to rely on my *excellent* memory instead."
Next, I found this crazy-looking orb that glowed an unsettling purple. Naturally, I touched it—because clearly, I hadn't learned anything from all the stories I'd ever read. It immediately emitted a weird buzzing noise, prompting me to drop it as if it had burned me. "Note to self: Don't touch weird stuff," I muttered, shaking my hand as if I could shake off the potential curse.
I continued my exploration and stumbled upon a room filled with strange, glowing rocks. Seriously, they looked like they were plucked right out of a wizard's stash. I picked one up, and to my shock, my hair stood up straight. "Whoa, magic hair gel!" I laughed, running my fingers through my electrified locks, imagining the potential for a new trend: "Jungle Chic."
Just then, I heard a faint whispering. My heart raced, and I spun around, expecting to see a ghost or some kind of ethereal guide. But, of course, no one was there. "Hello? Anyone?" I called out, my voice echoing in the silence. Just the wind, I guessed, or maybe the remnants of some poor soul who had gotten lost in their own thoughts too.
As I turned to leave, I staggered over something odd on the ground. To my surprise, I found myself in a brightly lit room filled with glowing orbs floating around like an otherworldly disco party. "Uh, did I just turn on the city's disco?" I asked the room, earning a look from an imaginary crowd that would have laughed if they could. The atmosphere shifted, becoming thicker and heavier.
I took a deep breath and entered the temple, its windows like empty eyes staring back at me. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung like ghostly curtains. The air inside was heavy with the scent of decay and forgotten memories. I felt like I had stepped into a forgotten chapter of history, where even the walls held their breath, waiting for someone to uncover their secrets.
Through the grime, I spotted an old trunk adorned with five mysterious symbols:
1. [⊗ - Trickster, God of Illusions: Snakes twisted together]
2. [□ - Sim, God of Shadows: Dark and light mixed]
3. [○ - Febula, God of Elemental Balance: Earth, air, water, and fire in harmony]
4. [† - SAG, God of Time and Space: Stars and planets aligned]
5. [∞ - Don Mathius, God of Omnipotence: Never-ending paths of knowledge]
Curiosity piqued, I opened the trunk, the symbols shimmering as if warning me to stay away. Inside, I found a worn leather diary. As I brushed off the dust, my heart raced. I could feel it—the secrets of the universe were about to unfold!
As I cleaned the diary, I noticed the author's name: MASKIN. Suddenly, everything around me dissolved into a blur of light.
When my vision cleared, I was back at the flower where my journey began. My friends were frantically searching for me, their faces a mix of relief and annoyance.
"Santino, where were you?" Jim asked, relief etched on his face. I could practically see the "I told you so" forming on his lips.
"I... I got lost," I stammered, trying to sound more dramatic than the situation warranted.
Jim raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. "Lost? You were gone for like 10 minutes. We thought you'd been swallowed by the jungle."
"I was," I deadpanned. "But I managed to escape with my dignity... mostly intact."
Wren, with his usual flair for humor, chuckled. "More like you got lost in your own thoughts. I mean, seriously, who knew your mind could be such a labyrinth?"
I shot him a glance with a smirk on my face. "Hey, my thoughts are a vast, unexplored jungle. It's easy to get lost when there are so many wild ideas running around."
The diary's secrets lingered in my mind, drawing me back to the Lost City, where I could almost hear the whispers of the orbs and the promise of untold power.
As we began to walk away from the flower, I could sense Jim nudging me with a curious look. "Hey, Santino, you okay? You've been spaced out since we found you."
"I'm fine," I replied, though he saw right through me. "Just thinking about the mysteries unknown to us."
Wren rolled his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. "Dramatic much? If I had a gold piece for every time someone got lost in their thoughts around here, I'd be richer than the king!"
I grinned. "Hey, someone's got to keep things exciting around here. Otherwise, we'd just be boring adventurers wandering through the jungle, and where's the fun in that?"
As we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling of something pulling at me, an unexplainable urge to return to the Lost City. I glanced back, feeling the jungle whisper a promise: "The secrets of the Lost City await your return."
Jim noticed my gaze and asked, "Hey, you seem disturbed. What happened?"
"I'm fine," I said, faking a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Just reliving my 10-minute jungle epic."
Wren chuckled again. "Epic? You got lost. You might as well call it 'Santino's Short Adventure.'"
"Details," I replied, waving my hand dismissively.
Jim asked, almost like he could read my mind, "Santino, you're not thinking of going back, are you?"
I smiled, tucking the diary deeper into my backpack, the weight of it feeling both reassuring and ominous. "Nope, from where you got that idea?"
"..."
Wren chimed in with a playful nudge. "You're hooked, aren't you?"
I shot him a look that could curdle milk. "And if I am?"
The three of us fell into an uncomfortable silence, the only sound the rustling of leaves beneath our feet, the jungle almost holding its breath, as if it, too, was waiting for my next move.
As we disappeared into the distance, the jungle reclaimed its silence, along with its mysteries. But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The diary, Maskin's secrets, and the Lost City were calling to me, and I knew deep down that I would answer that call one day.
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Written by : ABDULLAH ISHAQ
Edited by : SULEMAN
Supported by : ZAIN ALI