Boom! The walls of the cave shuddered as more of the red, squishy substance shot out from the cracks, spreading like vines to surround the trio. The strange tendrils pulsated, blocking every possible escape route and hemming them into the center of the cave.
Madison clicked her tongue in frustration, her face twisting into a scowl. "Great," she muttered sarcastically. "Another masterclass in magical problem-solving from you."
Amara's jaw tightened. "Seriously? You're blaming me now?" she shot back, her eyes darting between the ominous red tendrils. "Can't you just teleport us out of here?"
"I told you, it doesn't work like that!" Madison shouted over the cacophony of screeches echoing through the cave. "I need to see where I'm going, or I could teleport us into solid rock!"
Amara sucked in a sharp breath, her focus returning to the writhing red hands. They hovered threateningly but hadn't attacked yet. She raised her glowing hands, ready to incinerate anything that moved too close.
Suddenly, one of the red tendrils lashed out, whipping toward Madison with terrifying speed. Before Madison could react, a burst of fire streaked through the air, striking the tendril with pinpoint accuracy. The creature let out an ear-splitting screech, recoiling into the wall as the fire consumed it.
Madison stumbled back, her heart pounding. "Thanks," she said breathlessly, turning toward Amara.
But Amara shook her head. "That wasn't me," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos. "It was him."
Confused, Madison whirled around, her eyes landing on Nate.
He stood behind her, his posture strong and unwavering. His eyes glowed with an intense, fiery light, and flames danced across his hands as though they were an extension of his will.
"Nate?" Madison breathed, equal parts shocked and relieved.
"Amara!" Nate called out, his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon. "Hit it with everything you've got! It's scared of fire!"
Amara hesitated for only a moment, then nodded. The flames in her hands flared brighter as she prepared to unleash her full strength.
The tendrils twitched, as though sensing the imminent threat, and the cave seemed to pulse with a strange, almost sentient awareness. The screeching grew louder, more furious, but the fire in Nate's eyes burned brighter.
Nate's mind reeled as he pieced together everything that had just transpired. The fiery battle raging around him faded momentarily as he recalled the surreal dream he'd experienced. He had been caught in the monsters' illusion—a vivid, deceptive fantasy where he had imagined himself entangled with Amara in a way that felt disturbingly real.
He clenched his fists, flames licking at his fingertips. It was all a trap, he realized. The creatures, or whatever force controlled them, had used his desires against him, distracting him and keeping him in a vulnerable state. But he wasn't going to let them win.
"Amara!" Nate shouted, his voice ringing with urgency. "Unleash everything! We're breaking through to the entrance!"
Amara didn't hesitate, hurling streams of fire at the tendrils that lashed out at them. The screeches grew louder, the cave walls trembling with the beast's apparent agony. Madison stayed close, using her powers to teleport out of harm's way.
The group pushed forward through the onslaught, inching closer to the cave entrance. But as Nate dodged another attack, his sharp mind began to notice something.
"Wait!" Nate suddenly commanded, holding up a hand. "Stop!"
Amara paused mid-attack, her flames flickering out. "What? Why?" she demanded.
Madison also halted, breathing heavily. "What's going on?"
Nate's eyes narrowed as he studied the red tendrils. "It's too perfect," he said, his voice laced with certainty. "The way it attacks—it's not random."
"What do you mean?" Amara asked, her tone skeptical but curious.
Nate motioned toward the tendrils. "The attacks come at regular intervals, every seven seconds. And they alternate between directions—left, right, above, below. It's a consistent pattern. A creature that's in pain or fighting for survival wouldn't be this precise."
Amara frowned as she launched a small flame to keep an approaching tendril at bay. "So what are you saying?"
"This isn't a beast," Nate said firmly. "It's a defense mechanism. It's protecting something."
Amara blinked, startled. "A defense mechanism? Are you serious?" She fired another burst of flames as a tendril lunged toward her. "This thing feels pain, Nate! Look at how it reacts when we hit it."
Madison, nodding in agreement, added, "It screeches every time it's burned. How can it be a defense mechanism if it's reacting like that?"
Nate dodged another attack, his eyes burning with determination. "Because that's what it wants us to think," he said, his voice cutting through the rising tension. "Whoever—or whatever—put this here designed it to mimic pain. They want us to feel like we're winning, to think we're hurting it."
The realization sent a chill through the group. Amara and Madison exchanged uneasy glances as the tendrils swayed ominously, their screeches echoing in the cave like mocking laughter.
If Nate was right, this wasn't just an enemy—they were standing in the middle of a trap, designed to deceive and manipulate.