Ice and Natasha had been sitting on the steps for several minutes now, each silently weighing their options. Time was passing with increasing danger in this place, and every second pressed down heavier than the last. They remained motionless, but that could not drag on any longer.
He had considered sneaking past, but Natasha had warned him not to trust appearances. The odds of slipping by unnoticed were close to zero.
For now, they needed a plan to get past it, and fast. Something was shifting around them, slow but undeniable.
He could feel it. If they failed to escape in time, or if they were forced to face the "Chamber of Torment" Elpis had mentioned, his already fragile position could become completely hopeless.
Natasha's lips curled into a faint smirk.
"You've been quiet for a while, little Ice,"
Ice blinked a few times. Just when he thought he began to understand her, she would veer completely off course again.
'What's their obsession with 'little' anyway?'
"You seem oddly calm for someone who was trembling just moments ago," Ice replied.
This time, it was Natasha who blinked, caught off guard by his teasing smile.
"You're right."
Then she laughed. Not one of her dry, forced smiles, but a full, genuine laugh, like tomorrow wasn't a dream and today wasn't shrouded in darkness.
Ice stared, completely taken aback. Again...
'I give up trying to understand her.'
Her laughter faded, replaced by a serious expression. But this seriousness was different. It wasn't her usual emotionless mask.
"You know, Ice," she said, "when we got here, there were more of us. A lot more. And most of them didn't respect me. Even though we shared the same goal, they looked down on me. Why? Because they were stronger. That's all. And honestly, objectively, they were. Far stronger. But do you know where they are now?"
She paused, voice colder.
"They're gone. Every last one of them. So who do you think is the strongest now?"
Ice looked at her with a serious gaze, unsure where this was going.
'What does she want me to respond to that?'
He wondered who those former companions were, and whether she considered Jilius one of them.
Even though he had saved her from the beast that had hunted her for years, Natascha's reaction to his death had left Ice questioning their relationship.
"Honestly, I don't know," he said, scratching his head. "You don't become better just because the others are gone. But if you're the last one left, then sure. You've earned the right to see yourself that way. Who's going to stop you?"
"Exactly," she said with quiet conviction.
Ice stood, and she followed.
"So, what do you suggest, little Ice?" she asked.
He answered coldly.
"We get as close as possible, then split up and move toward the slope behind him."
Natasha had already begun walking when she suddenly turned back, as if remembering something important.
"And what if it..."
"He can only attack one of us at a time. The decision to go back or not will be ours to make."
She raised an eyebrow, surprised by his bluntness. Then she smiled and said nothing, turning away once more.
Ice looked back toward the top of the stairs. Darkness had already consumed most of it and was creeping forward, slow and inevitable.
They had no time left.
He picked up his pace and caught up to Natasha, who now stood before the corridor where the sleeping beast lay.
A single misstep would doom them. No hesitation. Their lives depended on a single moment.
They were already pushing their abilities to the limit to suppress their presence. Their physical forms were almost invisible. They exchanged one final glance, nodded, and moved.
Ice took the right. Natasha the left.
They sprinted at full speed. Within seconds they were already near the beast. Their steps were completely silent, even Ice's, and they made no movements that could betray them.
But it was pointless.
Just as Natasha had warned, the beast opened its blood-red eyes and locked onto them.
Then it leapt without hesitation. It didn't need to think. Just seeing them was enough. It was almost as if its existence revolved around this very moment.
It lunged toward Natasha.
She was the one chosen.
Natasha froze, paralyzed by fear as the beast charged. Once again, it would try to end her life. But this time, Jilius was not here to save her.
Ice watched it unfold. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a flash of relief. It wasn't him. He would survive.
That was life.
But not anymore. He couldn't abandon her. Not the Natasha of right now.
'Shit.'
He turned toward the beast charging at Natasha.
"Stay focused, it's not over yet," he shouted.
His voice snapped her out of it. She started running again, buying Ice the time he needed. For the first time in her life, Natasha was being used as bait.
Ice drew his sword and changed direction. His steps wavered, but his eyes held firm. He would not regret this choice.
The beast, though awake, was still disoriented. Its movements were erratic and sluggish. That gave Ice his chance.
Just before it reached Natasha, he caught up and struck. He leapt forward, aiming to pierce its flesh.
His blade sank into its scales but went no further. He still lacked the power to kill a creature like this.
The attack failed. But it had done enough. The beast turned its attention to him.
Ice ripped his sword free and leapt backward.
It was time to run. He had done what needed to be done. He wasn't a saint, far from it. Now he was going to move forward, and this time, no matter what happened behind, he wouldn't slow down.
Ice poured his essence into his legs, forcing his body to surge forward. Now that he was so close, he could see it: a faint, almost ethereal light, fragile yet full of promise. If they were to escape the suffocating darkness threatening to consume them, that light was their only salvation.
But nothing here was ever that simple. It never had been.
A sharp, searing pain tore through his back. The next thing he knew, he was tumbling across the ground, his momentum shattered. The beast had struck him.
Disoriented, he rolled in the dirt, grit scraping his skin, before slamming his sword into the ground to stop his fall.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he summoned every ounce of energy left in him, bent his knee and pushed himself upright, staggering toward the left corridor.
He carried on running, disregarding his own pain and took a quick glance Natasha was still in view, but the beast had vanished, its footsteps gone, swallowed whole by the abyss or whatever it was that was chasing them.
They reached the corridor with the sloped floor and, without hesitation, leapt. The steep incline sent them sliding downward . The slope ended roughly ten meters below, yet a new challenge loomed ahead.
'It's too high.'
The corridor that led to freedom was suspended five or six meters above the ground. If they wanted to reach it, they would have to jump. No time to hesitate.
Ice focused his essence into his right hand and reached out to Natasha. She looked at him, confused for an instant, but realization dawned. Without a word, she grabbed hold.
With a roar of effort, he launched her upward, channeling all his power into the throw. She soared toward the corridor and, by some miracle, made it. As soon as she landed, she spun around and extended her arm toward him.
'It'll work.'
With darkness rapidly closing in, Ice funneled every remaining scrap of energy into his legs and leapt after her. His body screamed in protest, wounds aching, but it didn't matter. He had to make it.
He was no longer human now, he was a beast driven by instinct, And now that he had smelled blood, nothing could stop him. He was not going to stop.
His fingers just managed to brush against Natasha's hand, then grasp it.
For a heartbeat, hope surged. All he had to do was hold on, pull himself up.
But his grip slipped.
Natasha's hand slid from his, and he fell.
'Shit.'
Thinking fast, he drove his sword into the ground, trying to arrest the fall and use it as leverage.
But it was already too late.
The darkness had already swallowed him whole.