After emerging from the open-air cave, Auren asked Jasper to guide them to the spot where he had escaped from the coffin. Despite the grave danger, the cohort had no alternative at this juncture.
Meredith offered no objection. She concurred that they needed to inspect the site and determine for themselves what had transpired. Finding where Jasper had escaped was crucial.
Venturing forth under the peculiar darkness felt wrong. A voice in Auren's mind whispered that they should retreat to the frigid sanctuary of the cave they'd abandoned minutes ago and wait out the trial.
While someone else might reach the core of the Trial, defeat it, and free everyone, Auren lived by certain unwavering principles.
He would never entrust his fate to another—hero or villain, it mattered not.
He refused to move passively through life. He scorned inaction, rejected the notion of letting circumstances dictate his path. The first lesson he'd absorbed as a child was the importance of setting a goal.
Events unfold regardless of our wishes. With a clear objective, you can harness these occurrences to fulfill your own purpose. This grants you a measure of control over the brutal machinery of existence.
This principle guided his actions now.
Uncertainty plagued Auren's mind. Questions haunted him like persistent shadows—would his next death be final? Was his existence even real? He had perished in the surface world only to awaken within a trial. Perhaps Meredith was right to question whether he was merely an illusion crafted by the archons.
Yet, his intact memories and independent will stood as evidence that he wasn't simply conjured from nothing. What remained unclear was whether this trial represented his road to freedom or the genesis of endless torment. Would reality ever greet him again?
This question loomed unanswerable—something he could only discover when the moment arrived.
Living with such a significant unknown terrified him, like standing at the edge of a bottomless chasm. But this very fear fueled his determination to forge ahead actively, eyes fixed on the uncertain horizon.
"I think the way was like this..."
Jasper muttered to himself as he guided them around another corner of jagged rock.
The boy's memory seemed fragmented and uneven, but so far he hadn't led them deeper into the rock formation but out of it.
Auren recognized this path, having traversed it himself. Yet that knowledge brought little comfort. This side crawled with Cursed Creatures, and worse, it led directly to the point where he had made his devastating fall.
Eventually, the cohort emerged from the rock formations' jagged maw, serrated spires stabbing skyward like the fangs of some ancient, slumbering beast.
Before them stretched a barren plain, vast and desolate. Cracked earth lay etched with brittle scars and veins of dark stone. The wind whispered low, brushing dust in loose, serpentine trails that snaked across the flat, lifeless ground. This wasteland was where Auren had fled for his life before finding refuge in the formation.
They moved forward, their steps muffled by parched soil, until the plain abruptly broke into a yawning chasm.
Wide and bottomless, the chasm's edge loomed like a gaping wound in the earth, its sheer walls plunging into darkness. The air grew colder there, heavy with the scent of blood, decay and silence, as if even the wind feared to venture too close.
A massive corpse lay in the center of the chasm, spikes jutting from its enormous back.
Auren had slain this monster not long ago. Remembering so soon brought no pleasure, especially as the memory of his own gruesome death surfaced alongside it.
Rather than descending into the chasm, Auren steered the group around it, tracing the rim while maintaining a cautious distance from the precipice.
As they skirted the chasm's breadth, a lonely structure materialized from the gloom—its silhouette stark against the darkness. A solitary building, unwelcoming and severe, hunched on the plain just beyond the chasm. It appeared not so much built as born from the stone itself, its walls dark and raw, like sorrow given physical form.
This wasn't merely part of the world's collective suffering; it marked a significant chapter in Auren's personal anguish. High up the black wall of the lonesome building was where he had plummeted, forced to roll to avoid becoming a Cursed Creature's meal.
Three of them stood beside the mouth of the chasm, gazing into the lightless horizon of the night.
Jasper hesitated, then swallowed hard before asking,
"Is it really okay? What we're doing... Are we going to die? Isn't it dangerous?"
Auren looked at him and scoffed.
"I mean, you clearly crossed this place all on your own and survived. Right?"
The question wasn't as casual as Auren made it sound. Anyone would assume Jasper was weak, yet somehow he had navigated these same plains where every step Auren took had nearly claimed his life.
Either Jasper possessed remarkable skill at evading the Cursed Creatures, or he was feigning weakness.
'Why would anyone pretend to be weak in a trial?'
It simply made no sense because trials were the one place one couldn't afford pretense. Deception here invited only unforgiving death.
Still, Auren reserved judgment. No need to decide what to believe just yet—only to keep Jasper under intense scrutiny.
He shifted his gaze forward and said:
"Last I remember, Cursed Creatures swarmed this area... I don't know why they're scarce now. But stay on guard and be ready to fight at any moment."
As he spoke, he studied both Meredith and Jasper. His eyes lingered on Jasper before his brow furrowed.
"Where is your weapon?"
Jasper released a broken chuckle.
"Ah ha ha... I don't have one."
"You don't..."
Auren caught himself mid-sentence, feeling irritation bubbling up like hot springs beneath thin earth. He exhaled slowly and looked away.
"I trust you have some way of protecting yourself then."
He stepped forward, leading the cohort toward the rear of the dark edifice.
Glancing at the building, he pondered its purpose and why it stood here amid this desolate plain.
One thing he knew was that it contained several dungeons.
'Could it be a prison built specifically to contain criminals?'
A prison constructed in the heart of an abomination-infested wasteland. Whoever these Kingdom of Heart and Highrise people were, they were diabolical sons of archonshit.
Auren's expression suddenly hardened like clay in fire. He halted and deliberately removed his sword from his back.
"Brace yourselves, guys..."
Meredith glanced at him and shifted her grip slightly on her spear shaft.
Jasper retreated a step.
With each crawling second, the subtle presence Auren sensed in the darkness grew clearer. His frown deepened, etching lines across his face.
When he finally gained clear perception of what approached them, disdain swept across his features like a shadow.
'How irritating…'