How many minutes had gone by?
For the falling Vicheam, he couldn't have known.
He could only stare silently at the dark entrance where he had been pushed down, while his back faced the air beneath. The only sound was his clothes fluttering and shivering against the wind.
'I've been falling for a long time now'
For some reason, it felt silent, in a good way.
His intestines and organs began to fly out of his stomach, and following after, blood rapidly gushed out.
For a moment, he was questioning how he wasn't already dead. The only explanation he could come up with was the rules of Rodan. An ancient book that Vicheam had picked up whilst travelling.
The explanation went as follows. "After a climber is supposed to die, they'll still be alive for 10 minutes after their original death, it' a curse by the world and to anyone who seeks to climb, a perspective of insanity taking place before your last breath".
Vicheam dwelled on the thought for a second before it slipped through, reminded back with the reality ahead.
"....".
Eventually, Vicheam decided to close his eyes, knowing what awaited him at the bottom of the sinkhole.
For a moment, everything turned darker than it already was.
"In the end, I never managed to make a friend".
"....".
In a sudden shift of a moment, Vicheam felt his body submerged in cold wrecking water at high speed. His body tensed up at the sudden change in the temperature, which was creating trauma.
Vicheam was barely able to think; the shift in the temperature was killing him. He managed to think to himself, his 10 minutes remain.
It didn't hurt; the impact should've broken his entire body.
Opening his eyes under the water, it was dark. The vision was blurry to the point he couldn't see anything except an open, dark blue sea around him. Turning to look upwards from where he fell, the passage was gone.
He brought himself to swim upwards; he could see his gut was coloring the water around him. The venom was also taking its final damage; he could feel his movements begin to fail him.
Paralyzed, he began to sink.
"....".
The sea was completely silent, and his ears began to ring from the pressure. The deep blue had turned to a void slowly, slowly sinking his body.
Suddenly, someone spoke.
An echoing voice that wrapped around Vicheam's head, barely able to react.
It came from under him.
Knowing there was someone with him, he decided to turn around his body, with the last of the energy he had left, and he was met with an eye-gouging sight.
Dark, gigantic tentacles slowly perked up from the abyss. They were barely visible, but their outline made it stand out.
The mysterious voice held curiosity, even a slight hint of interest.
Please help me. Vicheam uttered in his mind, hoping whatever it was to save him, if it even had the tiniest bit of humanity.
The suckers of the tentacles opened, revealing hundreds of rows of big golden eyes. Vicheam wasn't sure if it was an octopus or an eldritch horror of some kind, or worse, even mixed. The slitted eyes continued to stare intently at him; it was being watchful of him, aware of his presence.
He couldn't speak in his current situation. A gut feeling told him that it wasn't an ordinary monster watching him; it looked like... a god, almost.
'Vicheam!'
Vicheam shouted inside his mind again, hoping that the slightest chance it could hear him.
Gasp!
Gasping his mouth instinctively water entered his lungs.
Immediately, he tried to gasp again, the water filling his airways. His body fell cold, and he stopped moving, sinking slightly faster than before.
***
It was quiet; his vision saw into an endless nothing.
words appeared in front of him.
You weren't destined.
"What do you mean?"
Your journey ends here, climber.
"No"
Let the peak of Rodan be conquered by someone other than yourself
"I will be the one to do history a favor."
Give up Vicheam
Gasp!
Vicheam woke up, feeling his body against a sharp floor, and he coughed up the remaining water. It felt like he'd just woken up from a bad dream,
After a moment of catching his breath, he confirmed that his body was still intact. He took a break, trying to settle down with his head. Everything felt so confusing all of a sudden.
A gust of wind flew past him
Looking down, he realized something.
He was naked.
W-What the fuck!?
His clothes lay scattered beside him, ripped to shreds. His hands were unconsciously covering his private area—without a second thought, Vicheam began to blur out insults in anger and frustration.
"W-Who the fuck ripped my clothes!?"
There were no answers; his words echoed back towards him. Was he alone? He was pretty sure he had seen something just a moment ago.
Then it struck him; he looked at his hands—they were supposed to be decapitated. His 'hands' were back, or not really. His hands had been poorly stitched with some type of hard, melted obsidian, creating a thin line around his wrist.
He drew his hands down to his stomach, to see if the wound was still there; it was the same as well — his was intact, this time stomach carrying a new scar.
'Even my stomach too... but my organs, they flew out... I saw it. How am I still alive?'
Checking his surroundings. He recognized an air pocket, dripping stalactites hanging from the ceiling just above his head, and an open pool in front of him. The rest was enclosed in cave walls.
"Was it a dream?" Vicheam knitted his fingers against the arch of his nose—he was unsure what to make of the situation. He decided to stand up, but encountered a problem: His left ankle had been injured.
My ankle?
Getting a quick look around, he noticed stuff lying to his left, further away.
He began to limp towards his equipment, lying scattered across the uneven cave floor. Luckily, the glowing moss became a light source to navigate his stuff. He made his way towards the equipment.
A silver sword, a dark brown leather belt equipped with small daggers, and a pouch on its side. Those were the important things to continue climbing, but Vicheam began to worry for a second.
Beginning to scramble through his remaining things, his body froze, and his eyes widened in terror.
The key wasn't to be seen anywhere.
"No way.... did that guy take it?"
Vicheam couldn't recall anything; the more he tried to remember, the more the details became foggy in his mind. Vicheam sat back down in defeat, palming his face. He let out a grunt before throwing a nearby rock into the water in frustration.
The key was a valuable possession, one that he had discovered alongside an old friend who had passed away.
Vicheam sat silent for a few minutes, managing his composure and suppressing his anger inside.
Continuing to scavenge through his stuff, he became more aware of the pain in his left ankle. He sat down after a minute, inspecting it more closely. There was an open flesh wound.
"...I might've been infected...".
The thought alone of being infected made Vicheam shiver. Infected? By what exactly? This world is so gigantic and mysterious that you never know what you'll be infected with.
He pressed his fingers lightly against the flesh wound to check its depth. It wasn't too bad, but ill enough for it to affect his walking. An idea began to form in his head, reminded by the glowing moss, he decided to use it.
"Many different mosses have the same medical properties to treat infections and inflammation".
He inspected it; it would be poisonous if it had hints of violet streaks, but luckily, it was green. He began to take a handful of the moss clinging to the side of the cave wall, before putting it beneath one of his shredded cloths and wrapping it around his left ankle.
"It should help, even if it's just a bit".
Once the wrap was complete, Vicheam sat quietly. It's hard to figure out what he could do now. He was stuck, inside an air pocket with only water around him, and he began to feel hopeless.
"Lorenzo was his name, right?"
He brought himself to remember the cold man. No matter how much he thought about it didn't make sense; there were other living humans higher in the world.
The frequent encounter with medieval soldiers would've meant he was nearing a civilization he'd never heard about. It would be a worldwide discovery, and Vicheam would be given credit for it.
"It will take a year to travel down again, my clothes are shredded for some reason, I don't have food either... Tch, I left everything back at the camp!"
Frustrated, Vicheam took a rock beside him and threw it into the water. For some reason, he was still alive, and there was no escape either from the air pocket he found himself in.
"... At least there's water. If I remember my notes correctly, I should be somewhere between the 98th and 99th Hill".
He decided to stand up, limping slightly towards the water before bowing down to drink it. Once it found its way inside his mouth, he spat it out immediately at the taste.
"S-Salt water!?"
"I can't even drink this".
For a moment, he was hit with a heavy enlightenment. His eyes widened for a second, hundreds of thoughts running through his head.
"Wait...Salt water?"
He was over a thousand meters above sea level. Why would there be salt water this high up? Vicheam took a moment to compose, looking at himself in the reflection of the water.
For a slight moment, a dark figure was beginning to rise beneath the surface, startled, his instincts went straight to grabbing his sword, not unsheathing but holding onto it. A scaly tentacle rose through the water, a tentacle that had golden eyes for suckers.
"...The eldritch!"
He was about to unsheath his sword, his primary instincts ready to slash it. He was left in a state of "do it or don't". Any eldritch creatures within the mountain walls were out to kill him, at least from his experience.
It spoke to him, its voice distorting in his head. It was definitely capable of speaking inside his head. Vicheam gripped his sword even tighter, backing up with his legs.
"S-Stay away from me!"
He found himself in a bad position, with only walls around him, he couldn't escape it. The tentacle got close, invading his personal space. Its eyes watched him closely, a look of curiosity and caution.