Will to live

The vehicle's sensors, usually reliable, began to jot down a howl of abnormalities. A chill went through her bones as she realized, Kai was right, her breath catching in her throat. This place was alive, and it’s watching ready to lunge at anytime.

 

The road, had deteriorated into a treacherous path of broken asphalt and rubble though it had once a been paved thoroughly. The vehicle, despite its reinforced chassis, struggled to navigate the uneven terrain. The crimson mist thickened, obscuring her vision, warping the already deformed terrain. She switched to infrared sensors, the world transforming into a monochrome tableau of heat signatures and shadows.

 

The low-frequency hum amplified, a constant, throbbing pulse that seemed to penetrate her skull, inducing a sense of unease, a primal fear that clawed at the edges of her consciousness. This place, the mist and it’s darkness, it feeds on fear, she reminded herself. 

 

“ Just breath Riana, breath,” She told herself, focusing on her breathing, on the rhythmic inhale and exhale, a grounding anchor in the swirling chaos.

 

The road ended abruptly, swallowed by a chasm of rubble and twisted metal. The navigation system flickered, its holographic map dissolving into static. Riana stopped the vehicle, the engine's growl dying into an unnerving silence. The crimson mist swirled around her, a tangible presence, a suffocating cover.

 

Switching off the engine, the silence boosting the low-frequency hum, the throbbing pulse that seemed to derive from the ruins themselves. She took a deep breath, the filtered air tasting…metallic, tainted. 

 

It was time to go on foot.

 

She gathered her gear, the weight of the specialized tools a promising presence against the approaching darkness. Feeling the leather-bound book Marcus had given her, of the local translated rituals, it felt heavy in her hand, yet it was a guide into the heart of the unknown.

 

As she stepped out of the vehicle, the dark, cold mist swirled around her like a living commodity. The ruins loomed ahead, a labyrinth of twisted metal and crumbling stone, their outlines shifting and distorting in the haze. 

 

The ground was uneven, unsafe, a maze of rubble and broken… concrete? ‘Concrete in the woods?’, she asked no one in particular.

 

She navigated the ruins with practiced ease, her movements fluid and silent, yet her senses heightened, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a whisper of the unknown.

 

The dark mist thickened as she tackled deeper into the forest, the air growing heavy, almost suffocating. 

 

Feeling a growing sense of disorientation, a subtle distortion of her perception, as if the world around her was shifting and changing, like she was in a whole different world all together, the shadows taking on a life of their own.

 

The ruins began to rise, forming a jagged, artificial mountain range, a maze of twisted earth and crumbling stone. The path ahead was hazardous, with sharp edges and roughness in them. 

 

With a deep breath, she shouldered her pack, the weight familiar yet somehow heavier without Silas’s assistance in distributing the load. The first part of the ascent involved navigating a steep slope, a dangerous landscape of loose rocks that shifted and slid with every step. Each footfall had to be carefully considered, each movement planned to avoid a potentially dangerous fall.

 

It was time to begin her climb.

 

As Riana climbed the mountain, it seemed to shift and change, the shadows taking on a life of their own, whispering secrets in a language she didn't understand. She felt a growing sense of haste, a subtle misshaping of her life, as if the world around her was cracking.

 

Yet… She continued to climb, her movements slow and purposeful, every step calculated, her ears listening for any sounds of danger, senses heightened and ready for anything. 

 

The mountain loomed above her, a jagged, artificial mountain range, it standing a mockery for all the years she had experienced in her line of work, all the mountains she had climb but this was different, it felt different as it was a prison, a prison built to contain… something.

 

The sharp edges of the mountain dug into the soles of her boots, and the constant instability of the terrain demanded unwavering concentration.

 

The sun, still low on the horizon, cast long, distorted shadows that played tricks on her eyes, making it difficult to feel solid footing from tricky hollows. 

 

Several times, her boots slipped, sending a cascade of rocks tumbling down the slope, a stark reminder of the unforgiving nature of the mountain. Her leg muscles burned with the effort of maintaining her balance, and her lungs ached with the exertion in the thin air.

 

After what felt like an eternity, she reached a more stable section of rock, a jagged ridge that offered a temporary reprieve from the shifting situation. She paused, leaning heavily on her trekking poles, her chest heaving.

 

Looking down, the scenic view was breathtaking, a majestic show of snow-capped peaks and deep valleys stretching as far as the eye could see. But the beauty of the landscape offered little comfort; it only underscored her isolation.

 

Sighing she turned back up looking at the whole way she still needed to go, it looks like she had yet to do anything.

 

Then, she continued her ascent, the terrain growing more challenging. 

 

On her way up she encountered sections of steep, icy rock that required cautious use of her ice axe and crampons.

 

Her fingers, despite the thick gloves, grew numb with the cold, and the constant vibration of the ice axe against the frozen surface sent jolts of pain up her arms.

 

There were moments of sheer physical struggle, where every upward movement felt like an act of defiance against gravity and the mountain’s resistance. 

 

She had to find purchase on tiny cracks and ledges, her body pressed close to the cold rock, her muscles screaming in protest. 

 

Once, while attempting to traverse a particularly exposed section, her footing gave way on a patch of hidden ice.

 

Riana gasped, her heart leaping into her throat as she slid downwards for a terrifying few meters before her ice axe caught on a sturdy outcrop, stopping her fall with a jarring wrench that sent a searing pain through her shoulder.

 

She hung there for a moment, held up precariously, her breath coming in jagged gasps. The drop below looked impossibly deep, a dizzying chasm that promised certain death. 

 

A wave of nausea washed over her, and for the first time on this ascent, a genuine seed of doubt took root in her mind.

 

‘What am I doing?’ The question rang in the hollow chambers of her brain. The thrill she usually derived from such challenges was nowhere present , replaced by a gnawing sense of foolishness. Silas’s worried face flashed before her eyes. Her sisters’ gentle pleas for her to be careful resonated in the wind.

 

For the first time in her life, she felt regretful. A wave of regret washed over her, cold and sharp as the mountain air. The loneliness she had sought now felt crushing, the silence intensifying her fears. 

 

The relic, the reason for this arduous journey, to hell with it all, in that moment it seemed suddenly insignificant.

 

Perhaps her family were right. Perhaps it was time to embrace a different kind of life, a life with less danger, less danger, maybe she should try a less dangerous hobby, knitting or maybe cooking and baking. Hell, the absurd thought of online dating resurfaced, this time with a strange sort of appeal. 

 

The idea of connecting with someone from the comfort of her own home, without the risk of falling off a mountain, seemed almost luxurious. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said for the safety and companionship that others found through those digital connections.

 

With a renewed sense of determination, not to conquer the mountain but just to survive it, Riana slowly, painstakingly, pulled herself back onto the solid rock. Her shoulder throbbed with a persistent ache, a dull reminder of her near-fatal slip.

 

She noticed that the climb felt harder now, each movement requiring a conscious effort to ignore the pain.

 

As she rounded an arch, her breath fastened. Before her lay a thin gap, a dim scrape in the mountainside that seemed to lead deeper into the heart of the peak. This, according to the fragmented information she had gathered, was the entrance to the area where the artifact was rumored to be hidden.