The blizzard hounds us as we make our camp. The wind pounding against our tents for hours on end, the snow sticking to our fur, and the cold is making setting up a fire near impossible. Soldiers have to hug each other in blobs of ten in hopes of surviving the storm. Though we all know a few will perish in the winter’s cold. Funny, looking back at this war and invading the North. Most of my soldiers died not by Cinari spears, though they are common, but by cold and disease. Perhaps we need to pick up the pace, take the fight to the knife-eared bastards before we all succumb to this harsh weather.

  Many still try to recover after the battle against the Atirar. A lot of them moan for the death of their comrades while licking their wounds. It was a great victory, but one that was costly to them. For me, it is just a minor hiccup. My soldiers will recover soon if we want to win this war.

  I have something else in mind. I stand in front of the stone wall of an underground chapel or tomb of some kind. Or at least I think it is. It has religious markings all over the walls and writings that cheer its holiness. Someone was also here not so long ago; the path to the stone entrance is cleared, and the incense is still burning.

  Regardless, there is something important behind that door. I know it! No one will create a near indestructible tomb door out in the middle of nowhere and leave it unguarded. My army spent hours trying to break it down the second we arrived. But nothing works. Even the ballista with the magic crystal tips are only able to scratch the surface or shatter upon impact. No matter what, I will get inside, I know I will.

  My left hand aches, somehow it does. I keep trying to grab it, only to see that it is still missing. Cut off once an infection sets in after dealing with that Atirar. Well, not like my left hand will be useful anyway after only having two fingers left. The only thing to do is to remove the rotting hand if I want to continue my fight against the knife-eared scum.

  ‘Anything new?’ Jackle asks before touching the cold door.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be on patrol?’

  ‘No one will attack us during a blizzard; it’ll be suicide for them.’

  Perhaps it will still be better to have someone out there on patrols. Their General is still a threat to me and my efforts; I’ll need to kill him if I can push through.

  ‘Why are you here?’ I ask.

  ‘Because I am the only one brave enough to deliver a message.’ Jackle reveals in a harsh tone. ‘Karl is still pushing through, though his gains have slowed down; that’s the only good news I have.’

  I frown, ‘proceed?’

  ‘Midrax is dead, and his army is retreating to the Galire Desert.’

  ‘What!’ I march towards him, my right hand resting on my sword. ‘Why are they retreating that far?’

  Jackle doesn’t flinch, his expression still blank while he rubs the snow off his crossbow. ‘Apparently, Midrax and the Cinari General had a duel to the death; the conditions for losing are that Midrax’s entire army needs to return to the desert before they could go back into the fight.’

  Moron! What a moron! Why did he accept a duel? What would he expect when facing their General? Never mind, I will find his replacement. I won’t have an idiot’s death be my own downfall.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘No, there are rumours of Alex, but I doubt their validity.’

  Alex? I hope he is doing well, or at least his life is easier, and the weather is not as harsh down south. ‘How is Alex faring?’

  Before Jackle can answer, the stone doors buckle and groan. Without a force behind them, they swing open, pushing thick layers of snow and broken battering rams aside like it is nothing. The tunnel inside is dark, the air stale yet humid.

  I draw my sword as I walk towards it, only stopping as tubes of blue light flick on one at a time along the walls of the tunnel. Something is wrong with this place, but if the Cinari regard this place as holy. I need to know why, so I can destroy it. Before I get what I want inside.

  Stepping inside the tomb, my feet glide on its smooth surface as if it is just polished. The walls have a yellow line painted on them that leads deeper into the tunnel. There should be art here, something to make this place glamorous. Yet there isn’t. It is just a tunnel, yet foreign at the same time. Perhaps the knife-ears don’t respect their dead. Typical.

  ‘Watch out!’ Jackle shouts as the two stone doors slam shut behind me. I bang my sword on the door, but nothing happens besides sparks flying off my blade.

  Great! Lured into a trap of their design in a tomb of darkness. Funny, do they think a place like this can hold me? The Cinari and the Shaman must be more desperate than I anticipated. Idiots! I will break free, and I will personally find whoever is responsible for planning this trap. Torturing them slowly will be music to my ears once I find them.

  I turn around to head deeper into the tunnel, following the unnatural blue light that guides me to whatever is at the end. There better be an exit or a way out of this bloody place.

  The deeper I head down the tunnel, the cleaner it gets. It is as if nothing has set foot in this place for a millennium. This has to be some sort of dark secret the Cinari have. A facility they hid behind a magical door to keep everyone out, so they can try to play god. They are like that. Monsters who will experiment with anything to get their way.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  But I’m inside, so far no one has approached me, nor is there any semblance of anything alive. Did the knife-eared bastards escape as soon as they opened and closed those doors? Or is this some sort of trick they are pulling on me? Whatever it is, I will find out soon.

  Eventually, I stand in front of a metal door painted yellow. It seems the yellow lines on the walls were directing me to this place. It isn’t necessary, as this is a one-way tunnel. Perhaps the Cinari are so dumb that they need the markings to not get confused.

  Entering the room sparks more questions than answers. It is a room with rows of desks, chairs, and ancient skeletons wearing strange clothing. The place reeks of some sort of ancient death. Each skeleton looks different too. Some look familiar to the Cinari, but some look strange. There are skulls with tusks, some look like bones of Dogs, one even looks like an anthropomorphic cat.

  On every table is a strange box with a black glass facing the chair, with a slab of what can be described as false wood with blocks on top of it. On the blocks are an assortment of numbers and letters; the longest block is blank for some reason. On the sides are rectangular blocks with words on them which read “backspace”, “enter”, and “shift”. The rest seem faded or something strange like “ctrl” or “alt”.

  To my right seems to be a tray with miniature desks and even smaller skeletons. The skeletons seem flimsy and hollow. If I can guess, the corpses are no bigger than my hand, and they might have wings at one point. Well, I think they do. They also have the strange cubes with the black glass. Is this some strange diorama? A display to represent the death in this room? But the bones look like tiny Cinari and seem real.

  Without warning, I raise my sword at the ready as the entire room comes to life. The black glass has green letters that pop up and scroll upwards with even more letters and numbers following. Even the miniature cubes do the same thing. I try to read what is on the glass, but I can’t understand what any of it means. “Processing”, “rebooting”, “systems diagnosis”. What does this even mean?

  This place is wrong. Sick even! The bones belong to species I don’t know or are possibly fake. The black glass must be some magical trickery, witchcraft of some sort. Once I am done exploring, I will make sure to destroy this place.

  At the end of the hall, a light hum emanates from a black door. Blue light seeps from the cracks of the circular window. Like it is calling for me, wanting me to approach it.

  I walk up to the black metal door. It hisses at me as it slides open to the right. The motion is smooth, silent even. Gliding across the ground like how someone skates on ice.

  The room is dome-like, its walls are smooth and oddly clean. For some reason, it has a calm feeling to it when I set foot inside. I don’t know why the room gives off this feeling of stillness, yet it feels right. Perhaps there is a logical reason why the pest will keep this place secure behind an indestructible door. The room itself would be the holiest item to them. Yet again, why are there bodies still here and not buried?

  Before I can react, the sliding door closes behind me. ‘Not again!’ Furious at myself for falling into another trap, I wedge my sword at the gap door in an attempt to pry it open. However, no matter how hard I try I can’t open the door. Seeing that it is no use, I pull my sword out and get myself ready.

  Bastards want to kill me this way! Fine! I will give them the death they will fucking deserve!

  I swung around, ready to face my death. But in the end, I am happy, excited that they have to use trickery to end me. They know I can’t be stopped through traditional means. For I am the one that halted their armies, I am the one that slaughtered their beast and champions, and I am the one and only ruler of my people.

  Then, without warning or a sign, the world turns dark. My legs shake, my body staggers as I try to find my footing in the void. It is so quick, so sudden of a change. Am I already dead? How did I die?

  Bloop!

  Green blocky writing appears in front of me, it scrolls up into the infinite nothingness with rows of numbers and letters scrolling by. Then the words disappear, with only one word appearing right in front of me. “Befehl”.

  I scratch my head, confused as to what it means. I walk around it, only for the text to follow me. Some kind of witchcraft?

  My sword goes through it like it isn’t there. The green writing changes again. “Scannen 15%”. What the hell does that even mean? I watch as the number goes up to 100. Again, the text changes.

  “Operators cognition has been installed, preparing simulation.”

  The room, no, the entire world becomes a white void. In front of me is a rectangle made of black glass. I tap it with the tip of my sword, though nothing happens.

  ‘What do you desire?’ A feminine voice rings from the black glass. Speaking like it has a voice of metal.

  I flinch back as it speaks, its fake voice startling and causing the back of my hair to stand up.

  Perhaps this is a wishing stone? Yes! It has to be. It makes sense now. But I need to pick my words carefully, I don’t want to become the next body in the pile. Luckily, I know what I need to say. What needs to happen.

  ‘I want my perfect world to come true.’

  The glass obelisk rattles and cracks to reveal lines of 1s and 0s. I close my eyes, not out of my own will, but because the strange thing demands it of me. Perhaps this is now, that the world will change for the better.