The fight against the fiend—if it could be called one—lasted only five minutes. Four of them were spent writhing on the ground in agony. Ymir felt slightly better after killing the gremlin, probably due to the fragmented light that coursed through him afterward.
He didn't linger, opting to leave the battlefield immediately. Advancing slowly once more, he found himself at a crossroads. Without puting too much thought into it, he chose the left path and continued, his mood gloomier than before. The pain and that unexpected blow remained fresh in his mind. He couldn't deny his own weakness—he was clearly at the mercy of the elements and whatever lay ahead.
This time he moved faster, putting distance between himself and the corpse behind him. It felt like running from his own failure and helplessness.
At the path's end, he peered around the corner. The next corridor stretched empty, but footsteps echoed from its other side. Patiently, he waited until another fiend appeared—this one bulkier, gripping the severed head of a dog-like creature. Dark brown skin clung to exposed bone, blood seeping from the ragged neck stump.
Ymir knew facing it was impossible. He'd already overestimated himself and nearly died against what appeared to be the immature, juvenile version. A creature that barely reached his torso had toyed with him in one hit—what could an adult gremlin of his own height and bulkier accomplish?
What unsettled him most, though... "Still have the same adorable features," he whispered, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance.
He waited for the gremlin to pass, then rushed toward the corridor's end where another intersection awaited. The choice was obvious—he turned opposite to the gremlin's. This trial was about survival, not kill, or that's what he thought at least. He just needed to endure until it ended.
As he kept venturing deeper into the vine labyrinth, a troubling thought struck him. "How do I even know when the trial would be over? I was just told to survive." He stopped, stomped the ground in frustration, and pressed his palm to his temples. "So even if I avoid the monsters, I can still die from hunger or thirst... damn it."
The echo of his kick reverberated around him. His boot soles were made of a magnetic, strong material that sent tremors through the ground—a mistake he instantly regretted.
A low growl sounded from the corner he'd just left. He turned, eyes widening in horror, stumbling backward as fear stole his breath.
A repulsive alien like creature emerged— elongated skull zith a gaping maw that dripped acidic saliva. Its skeletal frame showed through rotting flesh, while jagged spinal protrusions gave it the appearance of an undead . Massive talons carved deep gouges in the stone as it stood on hind legs like a velociraptor ready to hunt.
At a deep level, Ymir understood this creature differed from the gremlin. It reeked with a stench fouler than death itself, hitting him like jolts of electricity that kept every nerve on high alert.
The creature tracked his retreating figure with its head, growling continuously. The gesture didn't escape Ymir's attention—its eye sockets were hollow, its snout practically bone. Only its ears twitched as he moved.
It was not observing nor sniffing, it was listening.
An idea formed. He kept retreating until he reached a corner, then turned as quickly as possible, pressing his back against the vine-covered wall. Thorns bit into his flesh, but he didn't care. He sealed his mouth with his hand and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing his stupidity and lack of self control, that might cost him his life.
Animalistic thuds grew closer. All Ymir could do was wait motionlessly. Running would allow the monster to trace him through sound, and rushing ahead blindly might lead to something worse. So he waited, leaving his fate to destiny once again.
The footsteps stopped directly in front of him. Growling emanated mere centimeters away as his anxiety peaked, heart beating like war drums. He fought to keep his body upright and mind conscious after nearly an hour of minor constant panic attacks. His body neared its limits from mental exhaustion.
Tears welled in his eyes as he pleaded silently, body tremors wracking him. 'I can't take this anymore. Please leave me alone, I beg you...'
Fear took hold and he was so close to passing out. Something really felt wrong. He knew fear. He knew danger. And he was the source of that fear and sense of danger when he worked with gangs.
But this feeling was sickening to an unbearable degree. It felt targeted. He could physically feel it inside of him, like an insect crawling its way into his brain.
First the eye situation that triggered never-ending panic and anxiety, and now this... Whatever this was, he was starting to feel like he was being toyed with for real.
The creature's elongated skull hovered beside his right cheek, its snarling a foreboding omen. Seconds stretched into an eternity before it finally continued its journey elsewhere after it was unable to locate its prey.
Ymir remained frozen like a statue for fifteen minutes, barely remembering to breathe. Tear tracks marred his freckled face, still greased from his work at the station. When he finally opened his eyes and confirmed the monster's absence, his body collapsed backward. Strength abandoned him as he breathed heavily from the encounter's intensity.
"Ow, my back hurts." The raw, intense fear transformed into relief tinged with dread. Blood seeped from thorn wounds, but he didn't care.
He felt like he was inside death's jaw, his fear factor multiplying.
Looking up, his eyes fixed on the colossal eye above. He laughed quietly and whispered in a self deprecating, barely audible tone "You must be enjoying the show from up there, acting high and mighty while we poor souls are suffering....Hmmm ??". Something caught his attention.
"Its eyelid... is it closing?" His expression grew quizzical. "Maybe i need to stay alive for as long as the eyelid remained open, and when it's closed, the trial would be over !?"
The idea took hold. He noted it for later confirmation—if correct, and the eyelids closed as more time passed, the trial would last at least a full day since they had barely moved.
Now he had to decide, stay or advance further.
The answer was as clear as the eye above his head. Staying made him a sitting target. Moving remained dangerous, but offered chances to avoid threats instead of waiting for them to find him.
Back on his feet, he faced the direction opposite to the monster's path and proceeded forward.
His eyes had dimmed, the flicker of hope slowly losing its luster.
He had been humbled in less than an hour by the maze he'd underestimated at first, and now his mistakes kept piling up to the point that he'd nearly died twice.
The quietness surrounded him, hiding behind it his worst nightmares. His choices were limited, other than giving it a shot, he had no options. This was the path to gain power and freedom—he just had to walk it or die trying.