Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 157: In the Dark Cave

Finally, in the warm arms of Lambert and Goliath, Narinder fell into a deep, serene sleep, a rare occurrence in his existence filled with tension and shadows. The weight of daily worries disappeared like a distant echo, and a gentle peace enveloped him. As always, his heart beat in complete calm, feeling loved, protected, and at home.

In his dream, Narinder found himself in the middle of a great rocky mountain, the gray, cloudy sky stretching above. Before him, the entrance to a dark cave called to him, and without hesitation, he began to advance. In one hand he held a torch whose fire danced, illuminating the wet, shiny rock. In the other, a thick black chain was firmly tied to the entrance, like an anchor that ensured his return.

He walked with determined steps, but there was no emotion in his gait; neither fear, nor uncertainty. His expression was calm, almost absent, as he circled the stalactites that hung from the ceiling like stone fangs and the stalagmites that rose from the floor like ancient guardians. The air was cool and damp, and each step echoed softly in the silence of the cave.

As he moved forward, intersections appeared like silent tests of his decision. At the first, he chose to turn right, letting the black chain slide beside him, keeping it ever taut. At the next, he turned left, then right again, and so he continued, moving with an almost mechanical cadence, as if he knew exactly where he was going without even thinking about it.

The cave was a strange, lonely world. There were no sounds apart from his footsteps splashing in the puddles on the floor, the soft whisper of his breathing, and the distant echo of water dripping from above, falling into small puddles that reflected the light of his torch like dark mirrors.

Narinder didn't look back, but he felt the black chain like an unbreakable connection, a reminder of something or someone he must keep close. His fingers didn't loosen their grip on it, even as the torch cast eerie shadows on the walls. "This is necessary," he thought, though he didn't know exactly why.

The air began to change, growing warmer and heavier as Narinder moved deeper. Despite the isolation, he wasn't restless. This dream, this walk, felt like a ritual, as if each step was an essential part of something that was meant to happen. The darkness around seemed alive, expectant, but Narinder kept going, guided by the light of his torch and the firmness of the chain in his hand.

The black chain began to weigh more and more, as if another hidden force was pulling in the opposite direction to his own. Narinder gritted his teeth, feeling the weight trying to anchor him in place. He adjusted his grip, though, and gave a strong tug. The resistance of the chain was palpable, as if it were alive, but its strength was greater.

Raising the torch even higher, the warm glow illuminated new parts of the cave. Deep claw grooves were marked on the walls, ancient scars that spoke of something that had fought desperately. Narinder passed his gaze over them, and although he felt no fear, an echo of foreign pain ran through him. It was as if he could sense the suffering of the one who had left those marks, a being trapped in a perpetual struggle against its confinement or its fate.

The cave narrowed and expanded as he moved forward, a natural labyrinth that seemed to breathe. There were times when the walls came so close that his torch almost brushed the stone, while at other times, the cave opened into wide chambers where shadows danced in an eerie spectacle. Narinder did not stop. Each step took him deeper, further from the outside world, and although he was not afraid, he felt the growing isolation.

The chain pulled harder, as if trying to force him to stop, but he didn't let up. He pulled her with a firm gesture, forcing her to follow him. "You won't stop me," he thought with an imposing calm. He felt that something was waiting for him at the end of this journey, although he didn't know exactly what.