James's hands slammed against the heavy door, icy water surging around his shoulders, threatening to drag him under. The mansion's relic-filled room was a chaos of floating scythes and splintered crates, the tidal wave's roar shaking the walls threatening to tear down the whole building. Astor clung to his arm, blue eyes wide with panic but flickering with trust. The door's carved symbols glowed faintly under James's touch, its rusted lock unyielding. His heart hammered, threatening to burst from his chest. Time was running out.
"Do something, man!" Astor shouted, his voice nearly drowned by the flood's roar. The water was at their chins, cold and merciless, the current yanking at their legs. James's mind scrambled, latching onto the memory of the key, the one that melted into his hand on the fourth walkway. The system's cryptic ??? Acquired message flashed in his thoughts.
Could I use it?
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the key to work. A ping cut through the chaos, and a translucent system screen flickered before him:
Use Oracle's Key? [Y/N]
Oracle's Key? The name sent a chill through him, but there was no time to question it. He mentally jabbed Y, pulse racing. A warm surge shot through his hand, like fire in his veins. The door shimmered, edges blurring into golden light. The symbols pulsed, and James grabbed Astor's arm tighter. "Hold on!"
A dizzying lurch hit, like the world was folding in on itself. His stomach flipped, vision warped, and then they were through, tumbling onto a dry white floor. The door snapped solid behind them, the flood's roar fading to a muffled growl. James collapsed, gasping, water dripping from his soaked clothes. Astor sprawled beside him, coughing, blonde hair plastered to his face.
"We… alive?" Astor wheezed, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Barely," James muttered, chest heaving. His body felt weak, limbs trembling from the effort of survival. His hand still tingled, the key's warmth lingering. "That key..." He stared at his palm, half-expecting it to glow like when he'd healed Astor. What was this thing? Why was it called the Oracle's Key? The name felt heavy, like a burden he wasn't ready for.
Astor's blue eyes narrowed, searching James's face. "You're full of surprises, huh? First the healing, now this? What's next?"
"No clue," James said, voice tight. The key, the healing, the system screens—it was too much, too fast. His headache throbbed, and questions piled up like the relics in the room they'd escaped. "You good?"
"Yeah, thanks to you." Astor grinned, but it was shaky, haunted. "But that key… what is it?"
James shook his head, exhaustion creeping in. "Wish I knew." His vision blurred, the stone floor tilting beneath him. His body gave out, and darkness swallowed him.
He woke up running through a dark, twisted forest, the air thick with smoke and the reek of burning pitch. He looked down to discover he was no longer in the body he knew. He was a woman. Her cloak, torn and heavy, snagged on gnarled branches, slowing her down. Her face was streaked with tears and soot, her hair wild, tangled with leaves. He clutched a glowing orb with an instinctive protectiveness, its strange symbols pulsing with an eerie light. Angry voices echoed behind her, a mob's roar growing closer, torches flickering like hungry eyes through the trees. "Witch!" they screamed. "Seer! You'll burn for your visions!"
He didn't know why she was running, but the body moved on instinct, driven by a will that wasn't his. He felt his legs pumped, breath ragged, but knew not to stop or turn, feeling the desperation within. He stumbled over a root, crashing to his knees, the orb slipping and rolling into the dirt. With a will that wasn't his own he clawed at the ground, scrambling for it, but his strength was fading as he felt her body trembling. The mob's shouts grew louder, boots thudding closer. Pushing himself to his feet he was determined to save the woman only to stagger forward in this unfamiliar body and trip again. The orb's light flared, casting shadows that danced like ghosts.
The mob burst through the trees, a swarm of angry faces. Men with axes, women with torches, all screaming for her blood. They surrounded her, closing in like wolves. He clutched the orb again, hugging it to her chest as they grabbed her arms, dragging her back through the forest. He struggled, weakened. The shared head turned, her eyes flaring an unnatural silver, glowing with a fierce intensity. "Hide your cursed power," she whispered, her voice sharp and final, cutting through the chaos. Then the mob yanked her out of sight, and the forest faded to black.
James jolted awake, heart pounding, the woman's words ringing in his ears. Hide your cursed power. He was sprawled on a cold, wet floor in a wide, cube-shaped room, its smooth walls glistening with moisture. Nine other figures stirred around him, clothes damp, faces etched with fatigue. The room was stark, no windows or doors, just a faint hum and water pooling on the floor. His headache pulsed, his body weak and aching, the dream's warning clinging to him like damp cloth.
"Astor?" he called, voice echoing in the cube.
The nine others sprawled across the room, turned to look, their expressions clouded with confusion. A girl with curly dark hair frowned, her eyes narrowing as if trying to puzzle him out. A lanky guy with a scar slashing across his cheek tilted his head, gaze cold and calculating. Others blinked, some rubbing their eyes, all clearly baffled by his outburst. No one answered. Astor was gone.
James's stomach twisted. Astor, the kid who'd fought beside him, who'd trusted him through the flood, had vanished like the figure on the walkway.
Had he been taken?
The dream's words gnawed at him.
That key must somehow be connected to that curse.
He stood, patting himself dry. He scanned the cube, the others now rising, some muttering, others silent. The girl with curly dark hair crossed her arms, still watching him with that puzzled frown. The scarred guy leaned against a wall, eyes locked on James like a predator sizing up prey. The air felt heavy, charged with an unseen presence, like the system was orchestrating something bigger, something unknown.
James's thoughts spiraled. The wave, the mansion, the key, it was all seemingly part of something vast and unknowable.
What have I gotten myself into?
Astor's absence sharpened his unease. He was alone again, surrounded by strangers, in a world that made no sense.
A faint hum broke the silence, growing louder, static crackling in the air. The space in the center of the cube shimmered, and a figure appeared, floating above the floor. "Congratulations, victors," it said, voice ringing with cold authority. "You've survived."