Natasha walked slowly down the corridor toward the door, her eyes filled with determination. She had succeeded.
She had survived and even secured her guarantee of safety once she returned. At the end of the corridor stood a red door, the culmination of all her efforts.
When she reached it, she paused and stared at it for a moment. Then, with a slightly trembling hand, she grasped the doorknob and opened it. The moment she did, she saw Ray and Celestia waiting on the other side. Waiting for them. Waiting for her.
Ray leaned against the wall, eyes closed, his sword resting at his feet. Celestia sat beside him, slowly biting her nails. The moment they saw the handle turn and Natasha enter, they both hurried forward.
Ray grabbed his sword and approached cautiously, while Celestia moved closer, her face flooded with relief.
A relief that quickly vanished.
"Where is Ice?" she asked, glancing behind Natasha.
Natasha bit her lip, her gaze wavering.
"He did not make it."
In an instant, Celestia's world shattered under the weight of those words, which fell like a death sentence. Her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees, tears already streaming down her face.
"Impossible," she whispered.
The one she had only recently met, at least according to her current memories, already meant more to her than anything else. And now he was gone.
Ray stepped toward Natasha, his expression unusually serious. His sword remained firmly gripped, unsheathed in one hand.
"What do you mean, 'he did not make it'?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You owe us more than that. Don't you?"
Natasha moved to comfort Celestia, reaching for her head, but Ray stopped her with the point of his unsheathed sword.
"I will not ask again," he said quietly. "What happened?"
Surprised, she slowly withdrew her hand.
"I'm sorry. He fell into some kind of dark substance that was chasing us," she explained.
Ray smiled grimly.
"So you did not see him die," he replied. "That's all I needed to hear. We will wait. For as long as it takes."
A faint light returned to Celestia's eyes at those words. Ice had offered his hand to help her up, and she had not forgotten.
Natasha frowned, a subtle flicker of hostility slipping from her.
"We have to move fo—"
"I said we will wait," interrupted Ray, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, wearing a confident, almost provoking smile. He did not seem affected in the slightest by the release of Natasha's essence, despite not having awakened yet.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Natasha's face but was quickly replaced by her usual face.
"I apologize," she said. "Perhaps my time in this place has made me... hysterical."
"Yes, I'm sure he's alive," Celestia declared in a firm voice.
Ray nodded at Natasha, and left as they all returned to their corners to wait in silence.
…
The abyss.
That was the only word that could describe what he was feeling. Despite the desperation of his situation, his mind was remarkably clear, as though none of it truly mattered anymore.
Not the reason he had ended up here, not the inhuman screams echoing through the darkness around him.
In truth, he was losing himself. Slowly, inevitably. If he did not act, that would be the end.
Summoning the last fragments of his mental strength, he gripped his sword and drove it into his own shoulder.
The pain was unbearable, his scream joining the chorus of countless others dying in the void. But the pain cleared his mind, if only for a moment.
The instant he regained enough clarity to look around and try to understand the source of all the screams, a strange liquid form surrounded him and carried him away before he could see anything.
It was as if this place rejected anyone still sane enough to continue fighting for their survival.
The liquid surrounding him was strangely calm, even relaxing. He did not seem to be drowning, and even his exhaustion began to fade. Still, he refused to let his guard down. He could not afford to.
The liquid disappeared as suddenly as it had come, leaving him alone once again in the darkness.
'What the hell is wrong with this place and its obsession with obscurity?' he muttered.
But this time, his path was illuminated. On either side of him, torches began to light one by one into the distance, forming a path ahead.
He did not know how, but if there was a way out of here, he was certain it lay at the end of that path.
"So this is the Chamber of Torment?"
If this was truly the place they called the Chamber of Torment, then perhaps there was still hope.
He began to walk, following the trail lit by the torches.
As he walked, his thoughts became a whirlwind of confusion and doubt.
'Did she let go on purpose?'
He could not understand why Natasha had released his hand. Maybe she had been too afraid of the encroaching darkness, or maybe his hand had become too slippery from sweat.
Still, it did not explain everything. Suddenly, a thought hit him. He quickly checked his fingers.
'The ring.'
The ring Jilius had given him. It was gone. Vanished.
'Interesting...'
He decided to set those thoughts aside for now and focus on surviving. None of it would matter unless he made it out of here.
And that was far from guaranteed, especially now that his worst enemy had begun to surface.
The heat.
At first, it was manageable. He had grown stronger through essence, after all. But soon it became unbearable.
With each step, the temperature rose. His forehead was drenched in sweat, and it felt like his skin was beginning to burn. It grew dry, almost brittle, and a faint scent of charred flesh filled the air.
He increased his pace. Walking would no longer be enough. He began to run.
But after only a short sprint, it was no longer just heat. He was being burned alive, and the worst or perhaps best part of it all was that his skin regenerated almost instantly. Just long enough for him to feel the pain at full force.
He screamed into the void as flames ripped his skin apart. Even his tears evaporated the moment they formed.
'Just a small rest. I can take a break, right?'
The thought echoed endlessly in his mind. It had never been so tempting as it was now, with him kneeling on the ground. But he fought it off and stood back up. He could not stop.
If he rested now, he would never get back up. He was sure of it.
This place seemed tailored to him, deliberately constructed to force him to face his greatest weakness. To escape, he would have to confront his fears and his torment.
Such was the nature of the Chamber of Torment.
But the human mind has limits. And his had been reached long ago.
' Right, left, right.' unknown thoughts crept into his mind without him even being able to focus on their meaning.
There was no point of reference to cling to, nothing but the torches stretching infinitely forward. He could do nothing but move, dragging his feet.
The pain had seeped into his very mind now, not just his body. He collapsed again and barely managed to rise.
Even his screams had faded. His cries were gone. His mind had already broken. All that remained was his will to survive, but even that was fading.
He fell to his knees once more, and this time he did not get up. His eyes slowly closed, and his body collapsed onto the ground as the flames consumed him.
But just before he gave in completely, something changed. The pain stopped. His mind returned to him.
A smirk crossed his face, and he laughed like the madman he had nearly become. That strange liquid substance enveloped him once again.
'I made it.'
He had done it.
Ice had conquered his torment.