PASSAGE 8: LUMINA

Each agonizing step Alaric took sent tremors of pain through his body. Blood and sweat mingled on his skin, painting a grimy map of his ordeal. Days, or maybe even weeks, had blurred into one another. He had no way of telling how long he'd been carrying Ms. Selena, her unconscious form a dead weight on his back. His meager supplies were long gone, hunger a gnawing beast in his gut, and fatigue a relentless tide threatening to pull him under.

His remaining eye, his right one, began to cloud at the edges, blurring the desolate landscape before him. With a gasp, his legs buckled, and he crumpled to the dusty ground. The air scraped his raw throat as he struggled for breath, a million questions swirling in his muddled mind. "How many days?" he rasped. "How much longer?" A dry chuckle escaped his cracked lips. "What was I thinking? Assuming there even is an exit at the end of this damned path…"

Despair threatened to consume him. "Maybe the rift opened back up at the starting point. Or maybe I'm just hallucinating…" His thoughts strayed to his family, a pang of guilt twisting his gut. "Mom's birthday… is it today? I was supposed to get her something special. Instead, all I've brought her is worry. An Untouched son, aspiring hunter turned bagger, destined to die a pathetic death inside a cursed rift. What a disappointment…"

Just as the light in his remaining eye began to dim, a voice, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, echoed through the silence. "Are you ready to give up?"

Alaric jolted, a flicker of life rekindling in his chest. Who was that? Was he hallucinating? With a surge of adrenaline, he pushed himself up, his movements sluggish and clumsy. He fumbled with the ropes binding him to Ms. Selena, gently laying her unconscious form on the ground. "Was that real, or just another figment of my imagination?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I thought you wanted to be a legend," the voice continued, a childlike lilt that somehow held an otherworldly power.

A spark ignited in Alaric's eyes. "Show yourself!" he rasped, desperation lacing his voice. "If you're real, save us! We don't want to die here! If there's a way out, please…"

His plea hung in the air, followed by a beat of deafening silence. Then, a mere two meters away, the fabric of reality shimmered. A rift, not unlike the one that had swallowed them whole, began to tear open. Unlike the gray void they were used to, however, this one pulsed with an ethereal golden black light, its very essence humming with unimaginable energy.

Alaric's remaining eye widened in disbelief. The color, the swirling golden particles… it mirrored the image burned into his memory – the black chain that bound and banished the white dragon into the depths of the rift at the Marianas Trench a decade ago. It felt like a sign, a twisted echo of an unforgotten legend.

"Step inside if you want to save yourself… and your friend," the voice echoed once more.

The rift pulsed before him, a seductive gateway bathed in an otherworldly glow. But Alaric hesitated. Was it another trick of his fading mind? A cruel twist of fate offering an escape that wasn't an escape at all? After all, this was a rift within a rift – an anomaly defying logic itself. "What is this?" he rasped, his voice a cracked whisper. "Another trap?"

The voice, surprisingly, seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry, Alaric," it soothed. "This isn't a trap. You have nothing to lose, do you?"

Alaric fell silent. Despair had him in its icy grip, and logic felt like a distant memory. He was right; he had nothing left. With a heavy heart, he shuffled towards the shimmering rift, its touch cool yet strangely comforting against his blistered skin.

Gathering the last dregs of his courage, he closed his eyes and stepped through.

A gasp escaped his lips as his eyelids fluttered open. Gone was the oppressive darkness of the endless path. Instead, he found himself in a vast, cavernous space. An ethereal darkness shrouded the room, punctuated only by the soft luminescence of thousands of tiny golden fireflies flitting about like living stars.

He reached out, his hand instinctively drawn to the mesmerizing lights. But before he could touch one, a small figure materialized before him. A young girl, no older than five, stood bathed in the soft glow. Her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing eyes of the same shimmering gold. Adorned in a cute black uniform, she looked more like a kindergarten student than a mystical entity.

"Hello, Alaric," she chirped, her voice like wind chimes tinkling in a gentle breeze.

Alaric blinked, momentarily speechless. "Y-you're the voice…" he stammered. "The one who was talking to me."

A mischievous grin spread across the girl's face. "That's right! I'm Lumina," she declared, her voice brimming with an ethereal energy that sent shivers down Alaric's spine. "Nice to finally meet you."