Driven by her sudden understanding of the machine's movement, Meldenma sprinted alongside it, keeping pace with its lumbering form. She knew this window of opportunity wouldn't last; the colossal vehicle took precious seconds to change direction.
"This thing should have stopped by now," she gasped, her lungs burning. "Why is it going so far? And I have no idea where it's even headed. If it turns back towards me... I don't even want to imagine the size of the holes those spikes would make."
True to its gruesome purpose, the machine crushed another wave of fleeing figures, its metallic treads becoming slick with blood. It paused for a few brief seconds.
Seizing the moment, Meldenma rapidly wrapped the fabric from her clothing tightly around both hands, creating makeshift grips. With a burst of adrenaline, she executed a high jump, landing precariously on one of the massive spikes. But just as her feet found purchase, the machine lurched in the opposite direction, throwing her off balance. Thinking quickly, Meldenma instinctively tightened her grip on the spike with her cloth-wrapped hands, using the friction to steady herself and begin the arduous climb.
"Wish this big, ugly metal beast had a cold drink dispenser inside," she muttered, her muscles straining. "First a marathon, now mountain climbing."
A sickening splash showered her face. It was blood, splattered from the latest victims beneath the machine. The unexpected contact made her waver.
"I hope it was quick for them," she thought grimly, regaining her footing. "A fast death, at least."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Meldenma hauled herself onto the top of the machine. She looked around at the arena below. Where moments ago there had been a sea of thousands, now only a handful of terrified survivors remained.
"It's rectangular," she realized, her gaze sweeping across the enclosed space. "That's why people were running in every direction – there wasn't much room to maneuver, and this monster is so huge it was hard to get a sense of the boundaries."
Her attention was suddenly drawn to a lone figure standing calmly in a corner, away from the carnage. He simply watched, his expression unreadable, as if he possessed some secret knowledge.
"He's just standing there, watching people die so peacefully," Meldenma thought, a surge of anger rising within her. "He's in a safe spot; the machine can't reach the corners. Why isn't he telling the others?"
Just as the thought crossed her mind, the man began to move.
The man moved with a deliberate calm, walking towards one of the long walls and positioning himself directly in the center, his back pressed against the cool metal.
"He's been here before," Meldenma realized, observing his knowing movements. "He knows this place well. He's just waiting for something."
But Meldenma felt she couldn't afford to wait. Her focus shifted to the chamber on top of the machine. She desperately tried to find a way to open it, running her hands along its unyielding surface. There were no visible latches, no handles, and it didn't look like it would open on its own. She was exhausted, her limbs heavy from the climb and the frantic search. She had circled the entire machine, finding no other openings, not even a small window. Finally, defeated, she carefully made her way back to the top of the chamber and collapsed onto it.
Her gaze drifted back to the man below. He had subtly shifted his position every few moments, navigating the deadly arena with an unnerving ease that belied the chaos around him. He moved without any sign of exertion, not even a bead of sweat on his brow. Now, he looked up at Meldenma and offered a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"I know that six-foot-five stick is smiling at my misery," she thought, a wry humor tinged with exhaustion. "At least I'm alive. Not crushed yet."
Then, the man began to walk diagonally across the sand-covered ground, heading towards the center. As he did, the machine's speed abruptly increased fivefold. It became a blur of motion, tearing around the rectangular boundary, not missing a single corner.
Meldenma clung precariously to the handle of the chamber gate, her body jolting violently with the machine's sudden acceleration. She watched in stunned disbelief, particularly at the seemingly prescient intelligence of the man below.
After five dizzying laps, the machine began to slow, returning from each corner towards the center. The man stood his ground, waiting for the massive vehicle as if it were a trained pet obeying its master's command.
Meldenma fought back a wave of nausea, her stomach churning from the relentless motion and the sight of the blood-soaked machine.
Finally, with a shuddering halt, the machine came to rest in the center of the arena, silent and dripping crimson. Then, an astonishing transformation occurred. The deadly spikes that had moments before been instruments of death began to retract and rearrange themselves, morphing into what resembled a series of sturdy rungs – a makeshift ladder leading upwards.
And the man, with effortless grace, began to ascend the machine, climbing as if he were a king ascending his throne.
What will Meldenma do now that the machine has stopped and the man is climbing towards her? Will she try to communicate with him? Is he a threat or a potential ally? What secrets does he hold?
The man reached the top, his gaze meeting Meldenma's. He took a long, deliberate breath, a hint of relief or perhaps anticipation in his eyes. Then, with a gentle pull, the chamber door slid open effortlessly.
Before he could react, Meldenma's foot shot out, connecting with a solid thud against his chest. The man was sent tumbling backwards, falling off the machine and landing with a series of painful thuds onto the sand below. He rolled, clutching at what seemed to be minor injuries.
"You can come up after me, with pleasure," Meldenma called down, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "I won't kick you again."
With that, she stepped into the chamber. Inside, a short distance away, she found a hand-shaped scanner. As soon as her palm made contact, a strange sensation washed over her, and the world around her dissolved. Meldenma vanished.
A mechanical voice echoed from the machine: "A guest has completed your dream."
Moments later, the man who had been kicked also reached the top and placed his hand on the same scanner.
The machine's voice responded, its tone unchanged: "Total two guests have completed your dream."
And then, the man, too, disappeared from the top of the silent, blood-soaked machine.
The arena was empty once more, the only evidence of the terrifying events that had transpired being the crimson stains on the sand and the metallic giant standing still and silent in the center.
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