Chapter 2: The Summit and a Hope

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Isaac, shivering in the oppressive cold of the Abyss, collapsed against a jagged rock.

Each breath was a struggle, a torment echoing the harrowing climb through this nightmarish terrain.

The air hung heavy with decay and an acrid tang of something metallic, suffocating and relentless.

As he unscrewed the lid of his battered thermos, the clink of metal against metal rang out in the eerie silence.

He took a cautious sip of the icy water, feeling its fleeting relief against the infernal dryness gripping his throat.

"Gulp"

He held the thermos up, the grotesque light from the eerie sky filtering through the murky depths of the container.

Barely 50 milliliters gone, and it felt like a sin to waste even that much. He forced the cap back on, resolving to preserve what little he had.

Pain radiated through his limbs, a cruel symphony of agony since he awoke in this abyss. Each step had been a torment, his legs and hands screaming for mercy.

Yet, despite his slender, almost frail frame, a well of unnatural strength kept him moving. It gnawed at him.

How could he, seemingly no older than a teenager, possess the strength of a seasoned adult?

"Why am I so strong?" he muttered, the question trailing into the darkness.

His gaze drifted upward to the peak looming above, a distant monolith against the dim sky.

It stood about 1.5 kilometers high, and he wasn't even halfway there. The ascent stretched endlessly before him.

Three to four more hours, he calculated grimly.

The thought sapped what little hope he had left, yet he forced himself to rise.

Every muscle protested as he continued his harrowing climb.

Time blurred into a relentless cycle of walking and resting. The hours crept by, each marked by haunting stillness and unchanging gloom.

Finally, he approached the summit, his body a vessel of agony, driven by sheer willpower.

"I hope I didn't come all the way here for nothing," he muttered.

Desperation gnawed at him—he needed to find something, anything, to justify this torment. A river, a settlement—anything to break the monotony of his suffering.

His stomach's growl interrupted his thoughts, a sharp reminder of his gnawing hunger. He fumbled for his lunch box, his fingers trembling as he pulled out a sandwich.

The first bite was a fleeting comfort, the taste of salami and cheese but it was also a cruel reminder that he had limited food and resources.

He forced himself to savor each bite, resisting the urge to devour the whole thing.

His eyes lifted to the grotesque star hanging in the sky, casting an eerie pall over the land. It wasn't a moon; it was too bright, too fixed in its position. A harsh, unblinking eye, watching over this purgatory.

"Is it always night here?" he wondered aloud. The star's cold gaze offered no answers, only its indifferent light.

As he finished his meager meal, he steeled himself for the final stretch to the summit.

Each step was a battle against the unyielding mountain, his hands gripping the cold, jagged rocks.

The light from the star barely pierced the thickening gloom, just enough to guide his trembling fingers to the next hold.

He reached the summit with a final, desperate heave, collapsing onto the cold ground. His breath came in ragged gasps, the bitter air burning his lungs.

Above, the ominous star continued its silent vigil, casting long shadows over the desolate landscape.

For a few moments, he lay there, letting the biting cold seep into his bones.

Then, through the haze of pain and fatigue, he saw it—a faint, distant glow. He forced himself up, squinting through the oppressive fog.

Far below, about 20 or 30 kilometers away, a red light flickered in the murk.

Its sinister glow seemed to pulse against the oppressive darkness, casting a faint, bloody hue on the distant landscape.

He could just make out the outlines of a town, shadowy structures amidst the swirling mist, and the glimmer of a river snaking through the desolation. His heart leaped with cautious hope.

"YESSSSSS," he whispered, almost afraid to give voice to his elation.

He grinned, a wild, desperate grin, and collapsed again, the fatigue overwhelming him. His body screamed for rest, every muscle and joint a throbbing reminder of his ordeal.

"Hehe, it was worth all that torture," he murmured, grinning wildly as he reveled in the discovery.

For a brief, delirious moment, he lay on the cold, rough ground, his entire body quivering with exhausted laughter.

From an outsider's view, he must have looked like a madman, worn and ragged, but filled with an uncontainable burst of hope.

Finally, he forced himself to his feet again, his legs trembling with the effort. His body screamed for rest, every muscle and joint a throbbing reminder of his ordeal. But he had to be sure.

He squinted through the fog, straining his eyes to pierce the gloom.

Beyond the town, he saw the faint outline of a... colossal castle?