After deciding to chase the massive heat source I sensed deeper in the tunnels, I started moving. I didn't know where that air was coming from or exactly where the path would lead me, but I knew I had to go further. The heat was like a magnetic pull coming from the other side of the dark, and every cell in my body seemed to vibrate in response to it.
The cave was narrow. My shell scraped against the sides every few steps, making a dry, grating sound that echoed in the absolute silence of the deep earth. I tried to maintain my usual speed, pushing my legs to move as fast as this heavy, clumsy body would allow. I felt like a tank with a broken engine. But after what felt like a very short time, the reality of my new form hit me like a wall. My body became completely exhausted.
I had to stop. I rested not because I wanted to, but because the tortoise body simply gave out. My legs felt like they had turned into heavy bags of sand, and my lungs burned with every breath.
What the hell? I thought, my chin resting on the cold, unforgiving stone. I always thought tortoises lived in a peaceful and calm environment I didn't know their life was this hard. It was beyond frustrating. In my human life, I hadn't been an athlete, but I could at least walk for an hour without feeling like my heart was going to explode.
Here, I hadn't even walked that much, yet this body was already drained. It felt like I was dragging a mountain behind me. Now what can I do? I just lay there, waiting for my energy to crawl back into my limbs, staring at the dust on the floor.
As I lay there, the doubt started to creep in. I didn't even know why I was going there. Logically, it made no sense. If there was something like that ice-blue grass or the red bone vine again—something too rich, too heavy for my body—then what was I even planning to do? Stare at it? Die trying to eat it? I couldn't consume high-grade energy. I already knew that. The system had made that very clear.
So why am I still moving?
The heat wasn't just strong. It wasn't just big. It felt… close. Familiar. Like it was calling to something inside me that I didn't even know existed yet. Every time the warm air brushed against my face, my shell felt a tiny bit lighter.
My blood moved a little faster, shaking off the cold sluggishness of the tunnels. Even when I was exhausted, that warmth made me want to take one more step.
I didn't understand it. Maybe I wasn't the one chasing power. Maybe my body was. Maybe whatever I became after dying—whatever this tortoise body is now—needs heat the way lungs need air. I don't know. All I know is that when that wave of warmth touches me, something inside refuses to retreat. I don't want to turn back. Even if it's dangerous. Even if it doesn't make sense.
I forced myself back up. My claws scraped against the floor, and I began the slow, agonizing march once more. Every foot forward was a victory against my own weight.
I was a rock with a mission, moving through a tunnel that didn't want me there. The tunnel twisted and turned, getting narrower with every yard. I had to tilt my shell just to squeeze through some gaps, the rock biting into my armor. It was a miserable, slow grind, but that pulse of heat ahead kept me from turning back.
After my rest, I pushed off again. I moved forward, and now the heat waves were much more noticeable. I'm going in the right direction, I told myself, trying to ignore the ache in my joints. But as I went deeper, the cave path became even more difficult.The ground was no longer flat; it was a mess of jagged rocks and steep inclines that felt like they were designed to flip me over.
The heat was strong now, pulsing through the air, but then something strange happened. It became quiet. I would move forward little by little, rest by rest, and the wave would become strong, only to suddenly go silent like nothing was there.
What is happening? I wondered, my golden eyes darting around the shadows. Is something ahead, or is someone playing a joke on me? I took another step, my claws clicking on the dry stone, and then it came.
WHOOSH.
A massive wave of air slammed into me. It wasn't just a breeze; it was a physical blow. It hit my face and body so hard it pushed me backward, my shell skidding across the floor.
I had to slam my claws into the rock, digging in with everything I had just to stop myself from sliding. It felt like I was facing a strong, giant fan that was sitting right in front of me, throwing hot air at my face.
The rocks and the cave surrounding me were becoming dry and brittle. It looked like the moisture was being sucked right out of the stone by the sheer intensity of the heat. I paused, my heart thumping against my ribs.
Is it okay to move forward? What if a beast or something dangerous is waiting for me? I felt like a tiny bug crawling into the mouth of a dragon. But the coldness of the tunnel behind me was worse than the fear of what was ahead. I needed that warmth.
Even with the fear, I moved forward slowly. The same thing happened again. Another blast of air, another struggle to stay on my feet. It got so intense that it made me tuck myself into my shell. I stayed there, hidden in the dark, and then—sudden quiet. No wind. No sound. Just the heavy, dry heat pressing against my armor.
What was going on? This wasn't natural. Caves don't breathe.
But then, I saw it. The tunnel finally opened up. I saw the end where the waves were coming from. I dragged my heavy, aching body to the edge and looked out.
"Hah… I finally reached it." I whispered.
My body was shaking from the effort, but I had made it. I focused on the source, ready to finally see what had been sending those waves through the tunnel. I expected something obvious—a lava pool spreading across the chamber floor, a glowing crystal embedded in the rock, or perhaps a volcanic vent releasing bursts of heated air.
I moved my front leg forward, preparing to step into the massive chamber. The air ahead shimmered from the intensity of the heat, distorting the space beyond the tunnel's edge. The temperature here was noticeably higher, pressing against my shell and drying the surface beneath my claws.
The ground appeared rough and uneven, layered with dark stone marked by shallow cracks and hardened ridges.
But the moment I shifted my weight forward, my basic perception activated.
The reaction was immediate. A sharp signal ran through my mind, clear and unmistakable. My body stiffened before I consciously understood why.
The surface in front of me wasn't behaving the way solid ground should.
At first glance, it looked like ordinary rock shaped by heat and time. But when I focused more carefully, I noticed a faint change beneath it. The stone seemed to lift slightly, then settle back into place. The movement was subtle, almost easy to miss, but it repeated in a steady pattern.
It wasn't loose gravel shifting under pressure.
It wasn't fragments sliding down a slope.
The ground itself was moving.
Before I could fully withdraw my leg, the system screen snapped into view, flooding my vision with a harsh, blinding red.
[ ! ] SYSTEM CRITICAL WARNING [ ! ]
Now what?
The surface beneath me gave a small, contained tremor.