Chapter Five: Trials and Tribulations

Max moved with more ease, his eyes scanning the cave's interior with practiced caution. He didn't seem as affected by the silence, but William could feel it—the thick, oppressive quiet that hung in the air, as if the Wendigo were watching, waiting.

"You ready?" Max asked, his voice low.

William nodded, drawing his weapon. It felt strange in his hands, more like an extension of himself than something he could use with skill. The Catalyst's energy thrummed inside him, a constant presence, like a heartbeat.

They moved deeper into the cave, the path winding and twisting, taking them into the heart of the mountain. The air grew colder, thick with the scent of decay and something far worse—a hunger, a primal force that made the hairs on the back of William's neck stand on end.

And then, a sound.

A faint rustling in the dark, like something shifting, something larger than any beast should be. William's pulse quickened, but he kept his grip steady, focusing on the presence, trying to reach for the energy within him.

Max didn't flinch. "It's close."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a shape lunged from the shadows. A blur of movement, too fast for William to fully process. He swung his weapon instinctively, but the Wendigo was faster.

A clawed hand raked across his side, a searing pain that almost made him drop the blade. The wound burned, as if the creature's touch itself was poison.

"Damn!" Max cursed, spinning around, his spear ready. "Stay sharp!"

The Wendigo moved again, faster this time, its monstrous form barely visible in the dim light, a twisted silhouette of hunger and rage. Its eyes, gleaming with unnatural light, locked onto William as it moved to strike again.

William's heart raced, and in that moment, something in him clicked. He reached for the blue energy inside him, pulling it from the depths of his being. The Catalyst's essence surged through him, wrapping around his limbs, filling his mind with a clarity he hadn't felt before.

With a roar, he slashed through the air, the energy cutting through the darkness. It wasn't a perfect strike, but it was enough. The Wendigo screeched as the energy collided with its flesh, tearing through its form like paper.

It staggered back, disoriented, giving max the opening he needed.

Max didn't wait for orders. He lunged forward, his spear flashing through the air, aimed for the heart of the beast.

The Wendigo howled, a sound that pierced the cave's silence, and in that moment, everything seemed to freeze. The energy in the air crackled, the tension building, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

And then, without warning, the ground beneath them trembled. The floor split with a deafening crack, and the entire cave seemed to shift. A massive chunk of stone fell away, and in the blink of an eye, the three of them were sent plummeting into the darkness below.

The Wendigo's screech echoed above them as they fell, its form disappearing into the shadows.

Max barely had time to shout, "Hold on!" as the floor gave way entirely. Rocks and rubble cascaded around them, and they were consumed by the blackness beneath, the cave collapsing around them in a violent eruption of stone.

The air was thick with dust as the cave around them groaned and shifted. The sound of rocks crashing and the echoing screech of the Wendigo faded as the darkness closed in. William's heart raced in his chest, the panic rising as he tried to make sense of their new surroundings.

"Max?" he called, his voice hoarse from the fall. He strained his eyes, trying to make out anything in the dark. But there was only the sound of his own breath and the distant echoes of the cave's collapse. "Max?"

No answer.

A low growl reached his ears, and he froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. The Wendigo had to be nearby—its presence was unmistakable. But there was something off about the silence now. It was too still. Too quiet.

Then, from the depths of the cave, a voice spoke—Max's voice.

"William, it's me. You need to come here. It's safer if we stay together."

The words were exactly what Max would say, his tone casual but with an underlying urgency. But there was something wrong. The voice lacked the rawness, the strain of the battle they'd just fought. It was too calm. Too measured.

William's chest tightened as he listened, every instinct screaming that something wasn't right. He could feel the Wendigo's presence closer now, its hunger palpable in the air, and his grip on his weapon tightened.

"Max?" he called again, taking a step toward the voice, but a warning in his gut kept him from rushing in. "Where are you?"

The voice came again, this time with more urgency, more desperation. "William, please, just come here! You're not safe out there. It's just ahead. Trust me."

William's heart pounded harder. The voice... It was Max's. It sounded like Max. But something about the way it echoed, the way it resonated in the dark, made his stomach churn. He was on the verge of taking another step when his mind screamed no. Something was wrong.

A sudden movement in the shadows snapped his focus. There, in the corner of his vision, the figure of Max appeared and hobbled over; he had wounds on his chest blood pooled out staining his shirt?

This was odd because it slashed his side…

"Did you heal your arm max? If so, can you heal me next?"

"Yeah I can heal you just come here I'm exhausted"?

Just before he decided to walk over he heard Max behind him!

"Don't go to him, William!"

William froze. The voice came from behind, not from the figure in front of him. He spun around, his heart hammering in his chest. The real Max stood there, bloodied but alive, his eyes wide with panic.

"It's not me!" Max shouted, struggling to keep his footing. "Don't trust it!"

The figure in front of William—the mimic—hadn't moved, but it's grin widened, its eyes gleaming with something darker than just hunger. It took a step toward William, its body contorting unnaturally, but before it could close the gap, Max charged forward, weapon raised, slashing through the air with a roar.

Then the creature snarled. Its form rippled, undeterred by the spear embedded in its heart. It twisted and writhed, its limbs bending at grotesque angles, and before Max could pull back, it snapped its jaws toward him.

The mimic's teeth gleamed, sharp and jagged, aiming for Max's head. The creature's breath was foul, and its eyes burned with unnatural fury.

Max barely managed to duck, his body twisting to the side as the mimic's jaws closed just inches from his skull. He gritted his teeth, pushing against the spear lodged in the beast, but it was still moving. Its strength was unnatural, relentless.

Max didn't have time to react. The mimic's jaws snapped open with a sickening, wet crack, and before he could move, it sunk its teeth into his leg with a bone-rattling force. The sound of muscle and bone tearing apart was horrifying—like a thick, wet ripping as its jaws clamped down, and then the sickening crunch as its teeth sunk deep into Max's thigh.

Max's scream was raw, unrestrained, and jagged as he felt his leg being torn apart. The creature's teeth grated against his femur, the sound a horrible scraping noise that made his skin crawl. He felt his leg go numb from the agony, but the pain didn't stop. The mimic's jaws twisted, pulling him closer, and a squelch of torn flesh filled the air as it wrenched his leg free from the rest of his body.

Blood spurted from the wound, hot and thick, spraying out in violent bursts, splattering against the cold stone of the cave. The sound of the blood hitting the floor was sharp, like a cruel, rhythmic slap with every pulse of his heart. The last thing Max heard before he lost himself to the pain was the awful, gnashing crackling of the mimic's teeth as it savored its prize.

William's hands clenched around his weapon, his breath coming faster, a tight knot of fury and fear growing in his chest.William surged forward, his weapon slicing through the air. The mimic saw him too late. It turned, but the blade was already there, carving through its chest, the splat of gore and the sickening tear of flesh accompanying every movement. William's weapon passed through the mimic's ribcage, cleaving it open from shoulder to stomach.

The thing's mouth gaped open, a final screech escaping it as its body began to collapse. The sickening sound of its insides sloughing out echoed in the cave, followed by the wet thud of its dying body hitting the ground.

It was over.

[Child of sacrifice, you have proven your strength. Your suffering shall not go unnoticed.]

William blinked, suddenly aware that the voice wasn't directed at him, but at Max. He turned to see Max's eyes widen in disbelief, his head snapping up as the words echoed in his mind.

The voice continued, indifferent to the exhaustion in Max's features.

[Your pain has been acknowledged. The price of your sacrifice shall be paid.]

Before Max could respond, a surge of energy rushed through his body, a tingling sensation like warm fire spreading from his stump. It crawled up his leg, and then—against all odds—flesh began to knit itself back together. Slowly, agonizingly at first, then with more speed. His skin, raw and bloodied from where the Wendigo's jaws had torn him apart, now pulled back together, muscles and tendons reconnecting.

Max gasped in shock, staring down at the stump that was rapidly forming into a fully functional leg. The healing wasn't perfect—it left a scar that would never fully fade—but the pain faded, and the wound closed.

[Your leg is returned to you, but remember—no blessing is given without a price. The debt remains.]

Max's breath was shallow as he looked down at the newly healed leg, testing it with a tentative step. It was strange, foreign, but it was real.

He grinned weakly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess that's a blessing, huh?"

William, still trying to process everything that had just happened, took a step toward him. "You're… good?"

Max flexed his new leg again, testing the weight. "Yeah," he said, his voice quiet. "Yeah, I'm good. But..." His eyes shifted to William, more serious now. "You heard it too, right? The part about the price?"

William nodded slowly, the weight of the Catalyst's words still hanging in the air. They both knew there was more to come, but for now, the battle was over.

Max stood fully now, pushing himself to his feet. He looked down at his healed leg, flexing it again to be sure it was real. It was. But there was an edge to his expression, something unsettled. "We've got bigger problems than what's left of this thing. We're still trapped, and I don't think the Catalyst's done with us yet."

William grimaced. "I don't think we're out of the woods just yet."

The two of them shared a moment of quiet understanding, realizing that whatever the Catalyst's plans were, they were far from finished. And neither of them would be leaving this place without facing more than just the monsters of the cave.