Naseria

Chapter 3

One by one, they descended the staircase, their footsteps echoing ominously in the void. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sound of their soles meeting the cold, hard surface reverberating through the darkness like a distant drum. The narrow, spiraling staircase seemed to stretch endlessly downward, winding into an abyss where the light from above barely reached.

The air grew colder with each step they took, a biting chill that seeped through their clothes and nipped at their skin. It was the kind of cold that clung to you, wrapping around your bones and making every breath visible in the faint mist of exhalation. The temperature drop was sudden and unsettling, as though they were descending into a place where warmth had long been forgotten.

The silence was almost deafening, a complete and utter absence of sound that pressed down on them like a weight. There were no whispers of wind, no distant hum of machinery, nothing but the oppressive quiet that seemed to magnify every creak of the stairs and every breath they took. It was as if the world had been muted, leaving them alone with only the sound of their own movements to fill the void.

Their senses were heightened in the darkness; every sound, every shift of air was amplified in their minds. The darkness below seemed impenetrable, an inky blackness that swallowed the faint light and left them straining to see what lay ahead. Each step forward was a leap of faith into the unknown, their eyes darting nervously around as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows.

The walls around them, barely visible, were damp and rough, as though they were descending into a place that had been untouched for centuries. The smell of earth and stone filled their nostrils, mingling with the sharp scent of cold air. The staircase seemed to twist and turn without end, a labyrinthine path leading them deeper into the bowels of the earth.

"How deep we had walking?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure we had walks far from the surface"

As they continued to descend, the feeling of isolation grew stronger. The stairs felt narrower, the darkness more suffocating, and the silence more profound. It was as though they were leaving the world behind, venturing into a realm where time and space had no meaning.

Their hearts beat in unison, a steady rhythm that echoed in their ears, reminding them that they were still alive, still together, despite the eerie surroundings. But with each step down, a sense of unease gnawed at them—a primal fear of the unknown that awaited them at the bottom of the staircase.

"It's seemed like this is the end." Izek who is at the front carefully observed the surrounding, it's so dark without any spark of light.

"I can't see anything. Does anyone have a lighter or any light?" Sherry asked, her hands searching her pocket in the pitch-black darkness.

"Move," a deep, husky voice commanded from behind her. It was Shen. With the flicker of a lighter, a small flame illuminated his face. His chiseled features cast sharp shadows, making his already intense gaze appear even more intimidating. His expression was unreadable, and in the dim light, the scar across his cheek gave him the look of a hardened mafia leader.

Shen stepped forward, taking the lead without hesitation. The flame in his right hand barely lit the way, but it was enough for the group to follow. His left hand remained buried in his coat pocket, adding to his commanding presence. There was a silence that followed him, as if no one dared to speak, sensing the tension in the air. Sherry stole a glance at him, his towering figure in front of them, and despite the cold air, a shiver ran down her spine.

"Why do you even have a lighter with you?" Henric, trailing behind the group, broke the silence, his voice a mixture of curiosity and unease.

"It was on my table. Along with other things," Shen responded, his tone flat, as if the question didn't deserve much attention.

"Other things?" Henric pressed, sensing there might be more to the story. But his question was only met with silence. Shen had no intention of elaborating, and Henric knew better than to push further. He was more than aware that when Shen didn't want to talk, there was no prying that could make him.

They kept walking, the flickering flame of the lighter casting eerie shadows in the vast, empty space. The oppressive darkness seemed to stretch on endlessly, swallowing everything around them. The only sounds that broke the stillness were their cautious footsteps and the rhythmic pounding of their hearts. Despite how far they had walked, there was nothing — just the suffocating void.

"Hey, how far are we supposed to go?" Izek suddenly halted; his voice shaky as he pulled at Shen's sleeve to stop him. He glanced nervously into the darkness ahead, continuing, "Are you sure we should keep walking like this? There could be something dangerous up ahead!"

Shen stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face Izek. His cold gaze pierced through the dim light, making Izek flinch. The silence hung heavy for a moment before Shen's voice cut through, sharp and commanding. "Then, what are you suggesting? That we stand here and do nothing? Wait around for death to come to us?"

His words were like ice, and the tension in the air thickened. "If you want to sit here and wait for death, be my guest," Shen added with a scornful tone. He turned away, the lighter's flame reflecting off his hardened expression. The group stood still for a moment, feeling the weight of his words.

No one dared to argue further. They knew Shen was right. Doing nothing was far more dangerous than facing the unknown ahead.

"Let's go, we'd better stick together," Daniel said, his voice calm but urging, cutting through the tension.

Izek glanced around, his nerves clearly on edge, wanting to argue. He opened his mouth, but the oppressive darkness surrounding them made him hesitate. The thought of being left behind gnawed at him. With a frustrated groan, he rubbed his face, surrendering to the situation.

"Fine, you win!" he finally snapped, falling back in line with the group, his steps heavy with reluctance.