I went through the hole behind the giant reception table, emerging into a gigantic, cavernous hallway. To the left, a chaotic landscape of piled soil, fractured debris, and crumbled rubble hinted at a massive cave-in, probably due to the area being subterranean. To the right, the path was surprisingly intact, though still narrowed precariously by encroaching debris and fresh rubbles. The faint light of my trusty homemade amulet illuminated the rough-hewn rocks in transient shades of orange and yellow, casting dancing shadows as I passed by.The path soon veered sharply left, still densely littered with stones and detritus, but this time, the grim evidence of past conflicts became more prominent. Carapaces of marauder beetles and the scattered, bleached skeletons of various animals – and unsettlingly, what looked like humanoids – began to pop up with increasing frequency as I moved forward. Seeing such a sight, I instinctively tightened my grip on my sword and cautiously crept ahead. The further I advanced, the more bones, tattered clothes, rusted armor, and corroded swords appeared, silent, eerie witnesses to countless forgotten tragedies.
After a few minutes of traversing the narrow, choked path, I reached a descending giant staircase. And as my foot tentatively kissed the edge of the floor before the first step, a magical cascade began. The glow rocks set within the candelabras hanging majestically on the walls flickered to life, illuminating the intricate design of the walls in a soft, faint orange. The grand handlebars, carved with forgotten symbols, and the path descending into the unknown gleamed with a faint, warm, orange-brown tapestry of light. It was eerily romantic, a scene lifted from a gothic fantasy, minus the omnipresent rocks, debris, and bones that littered the steps like the mundane inhabitants of this ruined science lab. I counted about twelve monumental steps before the bottom vanished into shadow. The base of the staircase was unsettlingly odd – scattered logs, sharp rocks, and construction debris were arranged in a chaotic, spiraling pattern, like a menacing whirlpool that deeply indented in the middle. Unmistakably, nestled in the very center of this sinister vortex, were a cluster of large, ominous eggs – the undeniable, chilling lair of the fallen Adult Boapede.
"Is that a chest?" I muttered to myself, squinting with disbelief into the dim light filtering down the stairs. In between the human-sized eggs, its metallic edges glinting faintly from the scarce illumination, was a rectangular box – a chest! I was right. My heart leaped out of my chest, not from fear, but from a potent surge of pure, unadulterated excitement. "Loots!" it cheered. Without any hesitation, I launched myself down the steps, executing a forward roll, meticulously avoiding some rocks, and acrobatically jumping over others. It was a graceful display of my parkour skills – which was, in reality, either poor or entirely nonexistent. I actually stumbled quite a lot, nearly falling a couple of times, and even hit my shin on a sharply protruding rock that made me hop in pain, biting back a yelp. But I was fiercely determined, blinded by the exhilarating thought of riches beyond my wildest dreams, the persistent, undying possibility of endless treasures from a single chest. My very first chest in this madness.
I was panting heavily, hands on my knees, my mind still stuck on the tantalizing thought of the chest. I was at the bottom of the stairs, finally, I thought. I looked to my left and saw that the path going down had completely caved in, a solid wall of earth and stone, which meant this was definitively the last level of this place – the deep, dark heart of the Boapede's nest. I began to descend further into the nest area itself and saw four large eggs, disturbingly white and peppered with distinctive, angry red dots. I remembered a TV show, "Animal Kingdom" or something, where the gruff survival dude, munching on insects and saying "ooh that's nasty but it's a good source of protein," had explicitly warned that red dots on eggs are unmistakable warning signs of toxicity and must be avoided at all costs. "Gotcha, survival dude," I thought, imagining a crisp salute to that invaluable TV memory.
General Awareness:
Boapede's Egg:
Definition: human-sized egg. Red dots - might be toxic.
The eggs were certainly big, disturbingly so. Two were lying directly on the ground, one tilted precariously to the left, leaning conspicuously on the chest, and the other stood eerily upright.
General Awareness:
Chest:
Definition: brown, bronze sidings and maybe something is inside.
The brown chest was undeniably ancient, its worn exterior showing ghost-like signs of paint that had once adorned its surface, now faded to barely a whisper with the relentless march of time. Why it was placed here, deep within the Boapede's nest, was itself a profound mystery. Whatever the reason, its contents were what I was truly, single-mindedly here for. As I slowly closed in on the chest, a faint, eerie whistle-like noise, subtly combined with a high-pitched phaser sound, reached my ears. It was not overtly loud, but loud enough to be distinctly noticed, sending a prickle down my spine. I immediately dropped into a guard stance, sword firmly in hand, like a trained reflex, and meticulously scanned my surroundings. Oh yeah, I liked it when I looked cool with my sword.
From the ground, they slithered out, like liquid terror. Tons of them.
General Awareness:
Harpoon Hookworm Dog:
Definition: Slender, white, with slender limbs.
Harpoon-like head.
One, larger and seemingly more assertive, climbed onto the chest, its movements fluid and disturbing. It was the size of a snake; its body looked exactly like an earthworm, but disturbingly pure white. Its head was sharply pointed, like a miniature spear or harpoon. It howled in that unsettling whistling manner, now more pronounced, combined with a distinct phaser sound. "Hookworm? Like the pasta-like worms that are being pooped by children?" Eww, I muttered, the thought of those repulsive worms sending visceral shivers down my spine. One of them, closer, lowered its harpoon-like head, poised, like a spring preparing to launch.
Heightened Awareness:
Harpoon Hookworm Dog:
Attack: Spring Dart
Attack area: marked with red line.
The red line stretched on the ground directly towards me, an undeniable arrow of death. It launched itself into a spinning harpoon, a white blur. It was surprisingly fast, almost a teleport. I sidestepped with a desperate lunge as it zipped past me. I slashed horizontally upward, going right, as fast as I could, vividly remembering the precise move from my battle with the Rabboar. I caught it with my blade, cutting it cleanly into two with a sound exactly like cutting stiff paper. I saw the ground turn red, a small smear of its white blood, then faced the direction of the attack and saw another one already airborne, headed straight towards me. I can't dodge it in time, I thought, a cold dread seizing me. I instinctively raised my sword, held it to the side, and supported it firmly with my shoulder. It hit my sword like a sledgehammer, with a jarring clang and a shower of sparks. I stumbled back but quickly resumed my guard pose. A red line appeared, coming ominously from the back. I stepped sharply to the left, and when I heard the distinct whizz of the spinning worm fly by, I slashed and cut yet another. There was no time to rejoice. I quickly figured out their strategy: they maintain a careful distance, just out of melee reach, where they can propel themselves and attack one after another in a relentless, synchronized assault. I saw a red line coming from the left, stepped back, and slashed downwards, cutting yet another worm. I took a quick glimpse at the hookworm perched defiantly on the chest; it was whistling sharp, rapid beeps, one after another, like barking commands to its pack. I dodged an attack with a left sidestep, pulled out a kunai in a fluid motion, and threw it like a baseball player at the worm on the chest. It jumped surprisingly to the right, narrowly evading my throw, and immediately started beeping again, louder this time. I moved left to right, a frantic, desperate dance, nearly getting hit in the head, hearing the sickening zip of a hookworm passing mere inches from my face. I raised my hand towards the hookworm on top of the chest, the one issuing orders to the others. Then a solid thud. It stopped moving and beeping. It fell off the chest, revealing the kunai embedded squarely at the back of its head, which I force-pulled with a mental tug. Its cohorts whimpered, a high-pitched, almost mournful sound, as they slowly backed away, looking at each other in confusion. Then, one after another, they disappeared into the intricate cracks of the ground, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.
I'm slowly getting the hang of the battle mechanics of this world. Maybe it's game-like because I can't do the things I just did in the former world. It's like I'm playing myself inside a game. It's some dream within a dream sort of thing.
"At last, my precious," I whispered, kneeling and hugging the chest with both arms and legs. It was bigger than it looked from a distance, about one meter big and one meter wide, radiating a subtle aura of anticipation. Then, I thought of kissing it, but it's too dusty. "Who's chest are you?" I asked the chest with pouty lips. "You're mine!" I said, grinning, my eyes shot to the top, laughing maniacally.
I stood in front of the chest, and finally, the moment of truth! I opened the chest slowly, the ancient hinges groaning softly in protest. I think my imagination added a ethereal glow of light to the opening that momentarily pricked my photosensitive eyes.