We established a rhythm over time. I would cautiously advance for a couple of minutes, pause to inspect the walls, and then proceed. The pace was frustratingly slow. Sometimes, we encountered long stretches of blue tiles, allowing us to move slightly quicker. Other times, red tiles clustered together, forcing us to halt completely while I navigated a safe route and ensured the team followed precisely. These interruptions not only slowed our progress but also extended the time I needed to spend examining the higher sections of the walls.

  After what felt like an hour of this painstaking progress, nothing noteworthy occurred. That was until I glanced up at the walls.

  “Wait.” Rabbit’s voice halted me abruptly, as he highlighted something on the wall. My head snapped back to it, and I instinctively moved toward it. “Stop. I haven’t checked those tiles yet,” he cautioned. In my eagerness, I had momentarily forgotten the routine. Rabbit could only verify the safety of the tiles directly ahead of me, and this one was closer to the wall.

  I didn’t explode purely due to blind luck, which frankly seemed to be my most dependable skill lately. As I paused, allowing Rabbit to survey and color-code my path, tiles around me shifted to a reassuring blue. Then, my heart skipped a beat. The tile I was already standing on flickered ominously and settled on a stark red.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” I asked Rabbit in my head.

  “Yep. You stepped on one of the tiles that is a trap,” he replied. I raised my hand to halt the others and put them on guard.

  “Why aren’t I in flames?” I added.

  “This is just a guess as I don’t have a large enough sample size, but this one is different than the others. This one could be like those mines used during old wars. You step on them, and you’re fine until you step off, and then boom. Or it could be a timed trap where something might happen at a certain point, but I doubt that happens as time goes by, or it could be a dud. I have no clue if that is even possible.”

  I quickly warned the others. “I’ve triggered a trap, but it hasn’t activated yet. I’m not sure if it’s on a timer, but you should step back.”

  They stepped back, and we all stayed still in anticipation. The longer we waited, the more anxious I became. Being in danger, I was braced for flames to engulf me or the floor to give way at any moment. The uncertainty was excruciating. Knowing what would happen or when it would occur would have allowed me to prepare, but the lack of any information was terrifying.

  After a tense, uneventful minute, the others cautiously moved closer.

  “I think it will trigger once you step off of it,” Sana suggested.

  “That was my thought as well. Does anyone know how to disarm a trap like this?” I asked, hopeful for a solution.

  The group exchanged uncertain glances. After a moment, Sana finally responded, “I don’t think so. Any other ideas?”

  I paused to think, and then a thought struck me, making me smile. “Sana, you’re a wealth of information. What would happen if I layered multiple pieces of armor?”

  She thought for a moment before replying, “That might protect against a physical blow, but it could be less effective against a magical attack emanating from the floor, unless the armor has magical resistance. It’s hard to say without knowing more.”

  We did the best we could to prepare. I layered Jack’s armor over my own, which was far from ideal. The misaligned joints made it nearly impossible to fight and difficult even to walk, but survival was my only concern. We also tied a rope around my waist and draped a shirt over my face to protect it. I didn’t want to suffer burns as severe as the last time. Although my face had fully healed, the scars made me look dreadful. My hair was starting to grow back unevenly. I was hoping to look normal again by tomorrow.

  With all preparations complete, we counted down. The plan was for me to leap off the tile toward them, and they would pull me back with all their might. If it were a physical trap, it likely wouldn’t sever any limbs. If it were a fire trap, at least my face would be spared. Either way, recovering from those injuries wouldn’t be too difficult.

  I crouched down, ready to leap. The armor restricted my movements, but I managed to position myself effectively. “Three, two, one,” I counted, and they pulled. I was about to say “Go…” but the word was cut off as I was abruptly yanked forward.

  The problem quickly became apparent. I had intended to jump on “go,” but they pulled on “one.” Fortunately, their strength compensated for the timing error, and it seemed this might still work. As one of my feet lifted off the plate, I heard an explosion before feeling the impact. A sharp pain tore through my body as my muscles seized up. Successive explosions followed, rendering me unable to control my body as pain continued to surge through it.

  I found myself on the ground, being dragged and convulsing from the pain. With a shirt over my face, I couldn’t see what was happening, but the light penetrating the fabric indicated it was intense. I was in excruciating pain, but at least I hadn’t been singed this time. As quickly as it began, the chaos ceased. I lay twitching on the ground for a short time before remaining still, completely exhausted.

  The others rushed over to assist, quickly removing the shirt from my face. One of them asked anxiously, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, that was a crazy explosion,” I replied, gasping for air. Every muscle felt utterly drained.

  “That wasn’t an explosion. Those were bolts of lightning,” Kaylie corrected me. Suddenly, it made sense. The pain wasn’t just random. It was electricity coursing through my body. I checked my health status. Surprisingly, it had only decreased by about 10 percent from what I expected given the intensity of the pain.

  The armor didn’t do anything, I thought, dismayed.

  “Not true,” Rabbit countered. “Most of the electrical power was conducted around you by the armor, only allowing a fraction of the full force to reach your body. Without that protection, you likely would have sustained serious burns, or worse, internal damage. Look at the walls. You can see where the electricity left char marks. You aren’t nearly as damaged.”

  Following his advice, I looked up and noticed more than one electric discharge. Those must have been the explosions I heard. Large black marks scarred the walls where the bolts had struck. Interestingly, the vines covering the walls were unharmed, untouched by the electricity. I had no idea what they were made of, but if I could harvest some, they might make for intriguing armor.

  “Here’s a little-known fact. Did you know that a dentist developed the electric chair?”

  “No way!” I replied slowly, genuinely surprised. “No wonder people are scared of dentists. Is that true?”

  “Oh yes, the dentist experimented on hundreds of stray dogs to perfect the method. When it came time to scale it up for humans, he used a modified version of the dental chair for restraining,” Rabbit continued. In my mind, I pictured the chilling method of electrocution. It seemed plausible. I wished I could verify his story, but it felt like he was probably telling the truth. It didn’t seem like something he’d make up. “How do you even know all that?”

  “It’s not my usual type of research, but it came up when I was looking into security breaches at critical facilities. Power plants top the list. The dentist’s method was discovered after someone broke into a power generation station drunk and looking for a thrill, only to end up electrocuting himself to death,” Rabbit explained.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Wouldn’t missile silos be at the top of the list?” I questioned, skeptical.

  “Nope. You have to consider not just the impact but also the security of the facility. Think about a missile silo. It’s manned exclusively by military personnel and guarded by multiple layers of security. It also has protocols to prevent unauthorized launches and to disarm missiles even after they’ve been launched. They also require some preparation time to launch long-range missiles. In contrast, electric plants, while secured, don’t have nearly the same level of protection,” Rabbit explained.

  “True, but let’s circle back to what started this whole mess,” I suggested, refocusing our attention. “You pointed something out on that wall…”

  “I would check on Jack first,” Rabbit interrupted me just as I was about to reach the wall. Heeding his advice, I paused and made sure to look at the floor, verifying that the tiles were blue before stepping on them.

  “They were holding the rope, and Jack was at the front. I bet he caught some of the electricity,” Rabbit informed me. I hadn’t considered it, but it made sense as current could travel through objects, even if a rope wasn’t the best conductor. I had been in the air for a moment, after all.

  “Thanks, Rabbit,” I said, genuinely grateful. His insights were particularly beneficial when he shared thoughts I hadn’t considered. Even if his pranks were pretty brutal, he always came through. Well, sometimes.

  As we had already checked all the previous tiles, my walk back to the group was quick. Approaching Jack, I asked, “You okay?”

  He stood a bit taller and replied condescendingly, “Yeah, I’m not a child like you.”

  Ignoring his tone, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He jerked it away, but not before I saw it. “You’re burned,” I stated bluntly. “You should have said something.”

  Kaylie jumped in, evidently worried, and said, “Jack, why didn’t you tell us?”

  It was good that Kaylie said something, as she was a tough person to argue with. He responded to her instead of me. “This is nothing. I’ll be fine. Alf probably got burned worse, and he isn’t complaining.”

  “He heals fast. You won’t be healed soon. It might take several moon cycles for you to heal naturally,” Kaylie replied. The presence of several moons always intrigued me. I was curious about how they orbited the planet. Seeing multiple moons with the naked eye added a layer of mystery that planets like Jupiter could never match, even with its many moons.

  “I’ll be fine,” Jack insisted, covering his hand and managing a slight smile.

  I pulled out a healing potion from my bag, the same one Jack had once used on his home island. He never finished it, but took a sip to put himself in full fighting shape when facing down future enemies. I offered it to him, but he waved it off, saying, “I’ll be fine. We don’t have many of those to spare.”

  This was true. We only had what we had stolen from the ship we were on. In the village, they were low on potions as well, so they wouldn’t have given them to us even for a reasonable price. One of their trading partners had stopped trading herbs with them because they signed a peace treaty with the Unionists. This caused stocks to plummet to extreme lows, and they wouldn’t be able to start producing more potions until they had a proper way to either harvest herbs or find a new trading partner.

  “Jack,” Kaylie started, “if you’re injured, you won’t be able to defend us.” She was going for his pride.

  I realized she was right. Jack was too proud to use one of our few healing potions on an injury he could technically ignore. However, I wanted him at full strength, given his skills as a fighter. I decided to lean on Kaylie’s influence. “Come on, Jack,” I urged, gently shaking the potion held out to him. “You know how often I find myself in trouble. I need you at your best.”

  Jack actually laughed at that, a genuine chuckle that lightened the moment. He reached out and took the potion. “While true, I do see what you’re trying to do,” he said with a smile. He took just one sip before handing it back to me.

  In most games I’d played, potions were typically housed in large bottles with a bulbous base. The healing potion in my hand, however, was different. It resembled little vials, wider than medical beakers but about the same length. So far, we had consumed only two sips from it. It appeared to have roughly three sips left. If someone suffered injuries like mine earlier in the day from the fire, they would likely need a full potion or possibly more. My natural healing ability was proving to be more valuable than I had ever imagined.

  “Anyway, I noticed a mark on the wall earlier. That’s actually why I stepped on that trap,” I explained, pointing to the spot Rabbit had highlighted. Unfortunately, the highlight, combined with the overgrowth of vines and its high position on the wall, made it difficult to see clearly. I suspected the others might have a better view since they didn’t have Rabbit’s symbols obscuring their sight. While highlighting helped locate things, it often obscured the finer details.

  I moved back to the wall and cleared the vines out of the way from the bottom. I was afraid they would attack someone else, and we really couldn’t afford to use the potion to heal everyone. The vines didn't react. They just moved when I pulled them to the side. I’d guess they were there just to keep idiots from climbing up.

  As I cleared the vines, I realized I needed to step back quite a bit to get a better view of the mark due to its height. Unable to see it clearly from my new position, Jack, from our group, kindly offered to swap places with me after he had a chance to examine the mark himself. I doubted this was his kind of adventure, but he was helpful nonetheless. I joined the others while he managed the vines, keeping them from completely covering the symbol again.

  When I got to the others, the brand was still highlighted, and I couldn’t see anything.

  “I wonder what it means,” Rabbit mused in my head.

  “I wonder what it says. Can you circle it or something to make it clearer?” I replied.

  “Whoops,” Rabbit responded quickly and promptly circled the mark. With the circle highlighting it, I could now see it more clearly. It looked like three horizontal marks, nothing else. It just seemed like the capital of the letter E, but without the vertical line.

  “What is it?” I said out loud.

  Sana responded, “We aren’t sure what language it is, or if it’s a language at all. It might simply be part of a puzzle. If it involves turning wheels, setting them all to horizontal might be the answer.”

  I knew what she meant, despite knowing that wheels were round. If there were a puzzle requiring us to align images on three wheels, choosing a horizontal orientation for all seemed sensible. Yet, this approach could potentially apply to other types of puzzles as well.

  “True. I guess we should move on?” I finally voiced, trying to refocus on the immediate task.

  However, we didn’t immediately proceed. Instead, we took a brief break to eat. During this time, I checked on Jack’s hands to make sure they were healing well. The slow pace, combined with occasional bursts of adrenaline, was taking its toll on the group, although it affected me less due to my focus on navigating the treacherous tiles.

  As we were moving, I was feeling a slight improvement in my feet and noticing some new hair growth. I pondered the quirks of my regeneration abilities. I had been severely burned, losing some hair, but it was now growing back, albeit slower than the rest of me had healed. It seemed to be regaining its original length. I started to wonder if my hair would just grow right back if I cut it. Was I destined always to have this same hair length? These were questions for later experiments.

  We resumed our journey, slowly making our way through the long hallway. The corridor was unusually consistent, with no turns, and it maintained the same width, always curving slightly to the left. As we continued, the perspective remained unchanged, an endless stretch before us.

  We progressed slowly, and it took us another hour to encounter another symbol. Fortunately, I managed to avoid any further traps along the way, a testament to Rabbit’s guidance. The previous mishaps had been my own fault. The new symbol we discovered was a single horizontal line. Despite a lengthy discussion, we were stumped. None of us had any idea what it might signify.

  The day wore on, and Sana’s anxiety grew. She surmised that the sun would set soon and increasingly insisted that we should return to our starting point. Although we had uncovered more symbols, the approaching nightfall raised her concerns about being trapped here overnight. Initially, I did not see it as a significant issue, but her repeated cautions began to unsettle the others. She kept saying, “How do we know what will happen at night?” and “Just because it is clear during the day does not mean we will not be attacked at night.” They echoed her worries, especially apprehensive about the possibility of having to defend ourselves amid so many traps.

  The view had never changed. It was just the same curving white hallway this whole time. The long, solid path we were on almost gave me a headache. The monotony of staring at tiles without a change of scenery was frustrating, and Jack began to complain. Sana repeated her concerns about finding our way out, which led to disagreements.

  I argued that since we now knew which tiles were trapped, returning wouldn’t take as long. Moreover, there was no guarantee the traps would remain the same the next day or if they might reset or change entirely. This uncertainty mirrored the concerns about potential night attacks. Simply put, we didn’t know what to expect either way. Despite these unknowns, I continued to advocate for pressing onward. The day had dragged as we navigated this corridor, and time seemed to crawl by.

  As we argued, a turn in the corridor suddenly came into view, igniting a spark of excitement among us. Despite this discovery, reaching the turn took time as we had to persist with our meticulous trap-checking. The debate raged on about the best course of action. We all agreed to check out what was there, but Sana and Kaylie suggested we should go back before it got dark. Jack and I, however, argued that we should keep moving forward.

  As we got closer to the turn, the traps seemed to disappear, and there weren’t any of the red-highlighted tiles.

  “Finally!” Jack exclaimed.

  We were standing in front of a marble door. It looked exactly like the entrance to the hallway we came in, but we hoped the area awaiting us on the other side would have fewer traps.

  We opened the door, and Jack was the first to say, “We're fucked!”