Training (2)

On the battlefield, where lies and deceptions determine the line between victory and defeat, the battlefield stretches long and wide, encompassing the past, present, and future. It extends, deciding who will disappear and who will survive.

The silent room brims with anticipation, its atmosphere thick with the promise of surprises. With cautious steps, I approach the room filled with mysterious traps lurking along its walls.

Harmless-looking wires crisscross the room, while paintings and miniature holes are scattered on the walls. A slight disturbance could trigger a painful explosion, rendering me bedridden for weeks.

I tread carefully, feeling the heightened tension in the air. Each wire has the potential to unleash chaos upon the room, disrupting the delicate balance. At first glance, the room appears normal, giving no hint of tampering. But I know better than to be deceived. I raise my foot gingerly, testing the floor, which remains silent, magnifying the intensity of the situation.

I continue my exploration, searching for visible signs of hidden traps, concealed in a way that only seasoned eyes would notice. The desk and bookshelf undergo scrutiny for any hidden dangers that could launch projectiles or trigger explosions with the slightest touch. Fear and anxiety permeate the air.

Tension mounts as I approach the other side of the room, where a beckoning door awaits, separated from me by various traps. Memories of past electrification and ensuing explosions flood my mind, etched vividly and forever.

My arm feels heavy as I reach out to grasp the doorknob, aware that doing so might trigger further explosions or bring back haunting memories. My hand inches closer, sweat trickling down my brow. The mounting anxiety, combined with the pressure and tension, amplifies the difficulty of such a simple task.

"Enzo," a voice calls from behind, momentarily relieving the pressure and diverting my gaze from the doorknob. My uncle stands opposite me, his trench coat a familiar sight. We are divided by the treacherous traps that lie between us.

"Anxiety on the battlefield leads to mistakes. Each hesitation breeds unnecessary overthinking," he advises.

"You see..." he continues, tossing a palm-sized rock into the room's center. I recognize its potential to activate dormant traps. Electricity crackles in the air, and the room grows warmer. Goosebumps prickle my skin, fear coursing through me as the rock lands.

"...You think too much," he concludes.

My body reacts instinctively, without conscious control. I grasp the doorknob that had filled me with anxiety moments ago. With each passing second, my breathing becomes more labored, unease mingling with unpleasant memories. I dash inside, my haste causing me to trip over my own foot.

Regaining composure quickly, I glance back at the room I left behind. The air crackles, and heat permeates the space—a sign of imminent turmoil. Without bothering to investigate further, I slam the open door shut with force, creating a resounding thud.

Silence ensues for a moment...

Then, a cacophony of echoes and sheer destructive power ruptures the air. Lightning clashes with flames, unleashing their might within the confined space. They roar with terror, and I feel the pressure accompanying this territorial battle.

I push against the door, resisting the conflicting powers raging within the room. The pressure intensifies as more power is hurled inside, seeping through the small gap. With strained muscles and trembling legs, I exert all my strength, focusing solely on this single push, ignoring everything else.

Gradually, the noise subsides, and the pressure dissipates. The echoes fade, yet no sense of safety washes over me. Ears ringing, body trembling, I am immobilized by the unexpected outcome—a situation that could have left me injured beyond recovery or worse, killed by my own uncle.

Adrenaline courses through my veins once more as I become aware of my surroundings. I attempt to move, realizing my feet and hands are cold, as if exposed to ice for an extended period. The need for reassurance is overwhelming, and with no one to rely on but myself, I quickly regain composure. A sense of trepidation engulfs me, knowing that beyond the door lies a room filled with mysterious traps and unknown dangers.

"Huff... Huff... Huff... Huff... Huff..."

Continuing to huff and puff, I accidentally bump the back of my head into the door. The pain registers only faintly as I close my eyes, attempting to comprehend the unbelievable sequence of events. It takes a few minutes to collect myself emotionally, mentally, and physically. The cold floor becomes a source of comfort, while the door offers support as I brace myself.

Every day, I face concealed traps, being zapped and partially burned without warning. Though controlled by spells to prevent fatal harm, the fear they instill is undeniable. I recall moments when stepping on the wrong board resulted in flames scorching my clothes, if not me. However, today feels different—more explosive, intense, and, above all, with an intent to kill.

"The sudden change is too drastic. It shouldn't be different from yesterday," I contemplate with meticulous interpretation, attempting to discern its implications.

I shift my body to the side, struggling to stand. Joints creak with every movement, reminding me of the harsh and rigorous training I've endured. Exhaustion has taken hold, making even the slightest effort a challenge.

Walking becomes an arduous task as my bones ache and my muscles feel numb, tingling with residual currents. The pain intensifies, making even the gentlest touch unbearable. It grows worse as my feet falter in the middle of the room while I slowly approach the door on the other side.

My eyelids grow heavy, but I fight the urge to succumb to my exhausted state, determined to press forward.

However no matter how stubborn I could be in the end I still fainted.

As consciousness returns, I find myself in a strange and unsettling place. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by an eerie darkness enveloping everything around me. Tall trees loom overhead, their branches stretching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. The forest is suffocatingly dense, with a thick fog that obscures my vision, making it impossible to see beyond a few feet.

I try to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through my body, reminding me of the recent ordeal I faced. The lingering effects of the explosive battle resonate within me, aching in every muscle and bone. Determination fuels my spirit, urging me to persevere despite the weariness that threatens to overcome me.

I gingerly push myself off the cold forest floor, the fog swirling around me as if alive. The air feels heavy, laden with an otherworldly energy that sends a chill down my spine. A sense of foreboding hangs in the atmosphere, amplifying the eerie ambiance of this unconventional forest.

Attempting to gain my bearings, I survey my surroundings. The tall trees seem to stretch infinitely, their branches intertwined and forming an impenetrable canopy. No sunlight filters through, plunging the forest into perpetual darkness. It's a haunting sight, the likes of which I've never encountered before.

As I take my first tentative steps, the ground beneath me feels peculiar, as if it's pulsating with a hidden force. It's difficult to discern the true nature of this forest—whether it's a living entity or a manifestation of some arcane magic. Every rustle of leaves and crack of twigs echoes through the thick silence, amplifying my sense of vulnerability.

Straining my ears, I catch faint whispers carried by the wind, murmurs of unknown origins that send shivers down my spine. They seem to beckon me deeper into the forest, drawing me towards the heart of this enigmatic realm. An inexplicable curiosity gnaws at me, compelling me to explore further despite the palpable danger that lurks within.

Navigating through the labyrinthine forest proves to be a formidable challenge. The path ahead is obscured by an impenetrable wall of fog, and each step I take feels like venturing into the unknown. The air grows colder, chilling me to the core as if the forest itself is inhaling my warmth. I wrap my arms around myself, seeking solace from the biting cold.

Time loses meaning in this ethereal realm. Hours blend into an indistinguishable blur as I venture deeper into the forest's mysterious depths. The fog thickens, reducing visibility to a mere arm's length. Shadows dance and twist, creating grotesque shapes that seem to taunt and mock my presence.

Time and again, I try to reorient myself, searching for a semblance of direction, but the forest defies logic. It exists in a realm of its own, untouched by the laws that govern the world I know. It feels ancient, as if it has witnessed countless tales unfold within its depths, tales that have long since faded into obscurity.

As I navigate through the perplexing forest, my progress is abruptly halted by an unexpected encounter. Emerging from the dense fog, a figure materializes—a hunched and frail old lady. An eerie sensation washes over me, and a deep unease settles within my core.

The old lady's appearance is marked by the passage of time, her face lined with countless wrinkles that seem to tell tales of sorrow and hardship. Her sunken eyes pierce through me, as if she possesses an uncanny ability to peer into the depths of my soul, unearthing hidden truths.

A tattered shawl drapes over her bony shoulders, its faded fabric clinging to her like wisps of cobwebs. Her hands, gnarled and twisted like ancient forest branches, tremble with an inexplicable energy, hinting at an arcane power that defies her frailty.

With deliberate steps, she moves forward, each breath escaping her lips like a raspy whisper—a whisper laden with forgotten secrets and ancient wisdom. Her motions exude purpose, as if every action is charged with a hidden agenda.

When she finally speaks, her voice sends a chill down my spine. It is a raspy, hollow sound, reminiscent of wind rustling through desolate corridors. Her words carry a weight, brimming with cryptic meaning and an unsettling wisdom that transcends time.

As the old lady approaches, her unwavering gaze remains fixed on me, and a disconcerting smile creeps across her weathered face, revealing decayed and yellowed teeth. This smile lacks warmth, evoking a sense of malevolence and concealed intentions.

In her presence, the air becomes heavy, suffocating, as if the very essence of the forest recoils from her touch. The surrounding fog swirls and contorts, assuming grotesque shapes that mirror the darkness within her soul.

"Lost but found led by voice not by one who is free but those who is bound. I give salutations whisperer kekeke"