Lucian's eyes fluttered open to the same dim, greenish glow. Blinking against the cold light, the crushing reality settled over him like a stone.
Still in the cave.
"Fuck…So it's actually real,* he thought, the weight of the truth crashing down. "Oh god."
He pushed himself up slowly, his body stiff and aching from the night on the hard floor. The silence pressed in again, unchanging and absolute.
Panic threatened to rise, but he clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.
"Okay, Lucian. You're here. You're stuck. But you're not dead yet. You got to keep moving."
He scanned the cave, every shadow, every soft faint glow of moss light, searching for something—anything—that might lead him out.
The fight wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Lucian's stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder of how long it had been since he'd eaten. His mouth felt dry, he was dehydrated and hungry.
He rubbed his belly, grimacing. "Damn I guess I have no choice."
He shuffled over to a patch of glowing moss clinging to the cave wall, he plucked a handful and popped it into his mouth.
"Pttt, pttt… this tastes like shit," he muttered, tasting the bitter, slimy texture.
But his hunger was relentless. He forced himself to chew and swallow, again and again, until the handful was gone.
"Better this than nothing" he thought grimly.
The moss didn't fill the emptiness in his stomach, but it kept the worst of the hunger at bay, just enough to keep him moving.
Lucian wiped his mouth, His stomach still churned, and his throat felt like he had sandpaper stuck in it.
"Okay… water," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "I need that too."
He paused, listen over to the steady dripping echoing through the vast circular cave. The sound was faint but steady, a promise somewhere in the darkness.
He stood up, eyes narrowing with determination. "If water's dripping, it's gotta be collecting somewhere."
Taking slow, careful steps toward the sound, Lucian followed the steady rhythm of the droplets falling into unseen small pool. Every step was heavy, every breath shallow, but hope sparked inside him.
The dripping grew louder, guiding him deeper into the darkness, where the faint glow of moss flickered, lighting his vision faintly.
Lucian's footsteps slowed as the sound of dripping water grew clearer. Ahead, nestled between some jagged rocks, a small hole glistened with moisture—a tiny natural basin where the water pooled.
He dropped to his knees, heart pounding with relief. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the cool, clear liquid. The water tasted fresh, cold against his dry throat, a stark contrast to the bitter moss he'd forced down.
He drank deeply, swallowing greedily like a man who hadn't tasted water in days.
As he sat back, Lucian let out a shaky breath, the first real hope he'd felt since waking in the cave.
"This… this helps," he whispered, fingers curling around the rock.
He glanced around the small pool, searching for any clues—any sign that might lead him closer to his escape.
"Alright, Lucian, Now it's time to figure out the rest."
He pushed himself up, body stiff but resolve hardening.
The cave was still a maze, still a mystery, but at least now he had something to keep him going.
Lucian wiped the last droplets of water from his lips and sat back against the cool stone, running through everything he'd figured out so far.
"Alright… I'm in a circle cave. Big one. That's something."* He rubbed his bruised hand slowly. "I've got food—well, moss that tastes like shit—but it keeps me alive." He glanced at the glowing patches clinging to the walls. "Water too, dripping from somewhere. That's a godsend."
He frowned, fingers tapping the stone. "And these walls… solid. No hollow spaces, no secret tunnels or chambers. Nothing but unyielding rock."
He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "So what now? No shortcuts, no cracks to exploit."* His eyes scanned the dim cave, shadows stretching over.
Lucian let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Man, this is so boring," he muttered, glancing around the stone walls. The silence pressed in on him, thick and unrelenting. "Maybe I should work out a little. Kill some time."
He dropped to the ground and started with a few push-ups, counting each one aloud to keep his mind focused.
His arms shook from the effort, but the movement was a distraction from the oppressive stillness that made him feel crazy.
After push-ups, he moved into some squats, his legs burning as he forced himself to keep going. He paced the cave between stretches, doing jumping jacks. The rhythm of his movements echoed faintly, bringing a strange sense of life to the silent cave.
"Gotta keep the blood flowing," he said between breaths, wiping sweat from his brow. "Can't let this place break me."
The workout didn't solve his problems, but it helped him reclaim some small piece of control, and kept the creeping panic from swallowing him whole.
As his muscles ached, Lucian stopped and leaned against the wall, catching his breath. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah," he said quietly, " I think I'm done for today"
He rubbed his sore arms and glanced around the cave.
"I should probably start marking the days," he muttered. "I'm literally turning into a caveman."
He reached down and picked up a sharp-edged rock from where he had found the water. Kneeling near the wall, he scratched two deep lines into the stone, one for each day he'd been trapped in the cave.
The marks were rough, uneven, but unmistakable. Two simple tally lines etched into the cold rock, a small testament to his survival.
"Two days…" he whispered, tracing the lines with a finger. "Feels like a lifetime."
He stepped back and studied the marks, feeling a strange mix of pride and desperation. At least this way, he wouldn't lose track of himself completely.
"Tomorrow," he said "I'll add another one."
And with that, Lucian turned back to the dimly lit cave, ready to face whatever came next.
Days blurred into nights as Lucian repeated his routine—eating the bitter moss, drinking from the small pool, marking tally lines on the wall, and pushing his body with makeshift workouts. Each night, he curled up against the cold stone, hoping sleep might bring a new perspective or a break in the endless cycle.
Two weeks passed.
Yet, despite his efforts, he made no progress toward escape. The cave remained a prison, its solid walls felt like it was mocking his attempts to find a way out.
He traced the growing lines of tally marks on the wall, feeling the weight of time pressing down on him.
"Two weeks trapped in this circle of stone. No cracks, no hidden doors, no miracles."
Still, Lucian refused to surrender. The routine, tiring as it was, kept him sane—a fragile thread holding him together.
And with that, he settled down once more, eyes heavy but mind restless, ready to face another day in the endless cave.
As Lucian settled down for the night, his mind drifted back to a strange sensation he'd felt days ago, a subtle vibration humming through the cave's stone walls, almost like a pulse beneath in the air. It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was there.
He pressed his palm against the cold rock, closing his eyes to focus. The cave was silent again, but deep within, that low, rhythmic thrum seemed to stir—a vibration that made the air feel alive.
"What was that?"he wondered, a flicker of curiosity cutting through his exhaustion.
It wasn't just the sound of dripping water or the echo of his footsteps. This was different—like the cave itself was breathing, vibrating in harmony with something unseen.
Lucian's fingers traced the rough stone, trying to catch the rhythm, to understand the strange energy his body reacts to.
"Maybe this place isn't just a prison."
The thought lingered as sleep pulled him under, the vibration humming softly in the back of his mind, a mysterious energy waiting to be unraveled.