Benny had chosen to give up on his life, finding it meaningless in the end. But here in the cold, damp depths of the labyrinth, a voice began calling to him. It urged him to stand up and rise—not some external voice, but the voice of reason. No, it was something deeper than that. A written sequence in every living being's DNA. Another will, more powerful than any other. Yes, it was his survival instinct and self preservation speaking.
Perhaps because he'd become blind in this endless darkness and deaf to everything but silence, Benny could now hear things other than his own footsteps, his beating heart, and his ragged breathing.
It was faint, but he could hear it—the voice echoing not through the hollow walls of the labyrinth, but inside his own mind. How much time had passed since they'd descended into this place? How long had he been alone, hungry, cold, and exhausted?
He couldn't remember. But then again, why did it matter? If he was bound to die eventually, did the timing really make a difference? What was the purpose of life anyway? What was the meaning of his life? Why had he been born at all? Surely everything that lived had its own reason for existence, right? And why was humanity given so much intelligence that it slowly destroyed itself? Why was someone like him cursed with such complexity? Why wasn't he born as a plant instead? No emotions, no thoughts—only pure natural instinct to grow and survive under the blessing of sunlight.
These were questions he asked no one but himself. Since he didn't know the answers to such complexities, he couldn't respond to them either.
He was full of emotions and at the same time empty of them. He was a coward, yet brave enough to have come to this place. Was it stupidity or brilliance? Or was it all predetermined fate?
These thoughts repeated endlessly as he fought to keep his eyes open, even in this absolute darkness. He was terrified that if he closed his eyes, that would truly be the end of everything. But what was so wrong with that? Why was he fighting himself not to end it all? For what purpose did his body and soul still cling to survival in this wretched place where only his death awaited?
He was already so exhausted that each time his eyes blinked, visions of creatures flashed through his mind. The monsters they'd faced came crawling back into view. Was it a dream or reality? He couldn't tell anymore. He gripped his broken sword with white knuckles—the same weapon he'd held for days now.
At least he had some training from his time with the city guard in Tiamerith. They'd taught him the basics, and some advanced techniques too. Well, that was all a mere guardsman could expect to learn, since the city only deemed them capable of such a level. Only those with real talent could become ranked guardsmen like the captain. Only they could reach higher realms than what was basically taught to everyone else.
He still had food in his backpack—supplies he'd gathered from his fallen party members after... after everything went to hell. Out of the hundred souls who'd volunteered as pioneers, only a handful had survived the initial descent. It seemed he was one of them. The rest had fled back to the surface, saving themselves by sealing shut the only entrance they'd found to this labyrinth. Those left behind had already perished.
But Benny had also run. He'd abandoned those around him, though in truth, they were the ones who'd told him to flee. "Save yourself," they'd said. "Tell those on the surface about the horrors down here. Warn them what awaits anyone brave enough—or stupid enough—to enter this place."
Benny was no longer sane. He'd been driven to the edge by too much time in the dark, too much isolation, too much fear. Psychotic, maybe. Delirious, definitely.
But perhaps... Perhaps he might survive this ordeal after all. He hadn't been attacked in hours now. His body couldn't fight sleep any longer, so he tucked himself into the smallest space he could find and finally let his eyes close. Sleep was the only escape left to him—the one place he'd felt truly safe for most of his life.
But even now, that sanctuary was being taken away from him.
So much despair would consume him as long as he remained alive in this place. But maybe, just maybe, even the weakest of wills could find something to bring them back to hope.
Even if that hope seemed impossible right now.