“Ow! Damn it, that hurts!” I cried out, stumbling forward to dodge another strike. As I rolled, I nearly tumbled off the edge of the walkway.

  Rabbit's voice cut sharply through the panic, “Stop rolling, you idiot. It was an arrow from a higher level. They haven’t caught up yet, but they will soon if you don’t make it into the cave.”

  The clamor of voices behind me intensified, echoing closer with relentless speed. Struggling to regain my footing, the pain and panic muddled my focus, making it difficult to channel my mana effectively. In that desperate moment, I leaned on sheer stubbornness and the dwindling reserves of my strength to keep moving.

  The cave entrance loomed just ahead, tantalizingly close, as the sounds of my pursuers suggested they were mere seconds from catching me.

  Rabbit’s voice intruded into my thoughts again, firm and urgent, “Take out the arrow.”

  With every ounce of strength left in me, I lurched forward, my feet barely leaving the ground as I stumbled closer to the entrance.

  I knew the Goblins feared what lay inside, but their desire to claim my head and seize leadership for themselves was a potent force. In the brutal hierarchy of their society, power came from strength, and strength from dominance. I could only hope that their fear would outweigh their ambition.

  As I crossed the threshold into the lightning chamber, the air crackled with energy.

  “Take out the arrow now!” Rabbit started to yell. When I didn’t reply or try to take out the arrow, he began to get louder and more intense. “You need to take it out, or you will die!”

  That caught my attention, and as I swayed with weariness, my hand instinctively reached around my back to the arrow embedded in my flesh.

  The projectile had not gone all the way through, thanks to the Biodium chainmail that had prevented full penetration and stopped it from puncturing both sides of my body.

  If it had made it all the way through, I could have simply broken the shaft and removed both parts. However, since the arrowhead was embedded within me, I faced the grim prospect of having to tear it out backward, a process that would undoubtedly inflict even more damage and pain.

  My breaths came in shallow gasps as I steeled myself for the excruciating task.

  Time was not on my side, so I wasted no more of it. I reached up, grasping the shaft as close to my body as possible, and with a swift yank, tore it out along with chunks of my own flesh. Blood welled up and oozed from the wound, as dark as the stain on the arrowhead.

  Despite my exhaustion, my arms remained strong. The pain that coursed through my body was like a searing hot iron striking me, causing me to stagger.

  Though I had no sight under the Biodium hood and could only rely on Rabbit's guidance, my vision seemed to blur as if the periphery was ablaze with a shimmering purple light. My knee hit the ground, but the impact jolted me back to clarity, and I forced myself to rise once more.

  The voices behind me had the perfect opportunity to seize the moment, but they hesitated. If they had attacked right away, I would have been overwhelmed. Their momentary pause gave me a lifeline, at least for now. With each step, my footfalls echoed like drumbeats, driving me forward as a buzzing sound began to grow steadily in intensity around me.

  “And now the lightning round begins,” said Rabbit excitedly.

  This was pure dread.

  I had to place my faith in Rabbit's suggestions, praying that he wasn't merely insane and seeking a spectacular way to self-destruct.

  The lightning built with an intense and buzzing sound, and so did my nerves. I could sense the atmosphere shift as everyone behind me fell silent. Like me, they were waiting for the lightning to strike.

  According to what we were told and what we had observed, the path to the control room was a long, straight hallway with no exits except for the entrance. Once entered, the lightning mechanism would activate, building in intensity until it began striking. Once triggered, it would not cease until everyone was dead or had evacuated.

  The person at the front of the group would face lightning strikes at one-second intervals. While surviving a single bolt was possible, remaining conscious to withstand a second was unlikely. This scenario was somewhat akin to being struck by lightning on Earth. Even if one survived the initial strike, the aftermath could be fatal without medical help.

  In this realm, skilled healers could work miracles, provided the injured were still alive. When the Goblins first discovered this city, they came up with a clever strategy. They would enter the corridor in a line, each person stepping forward to take a lightning strike, ensuring each Goblin was hit only once. This rotation allowed them to advance halfway through the corridor, with the injured slated for eventual healing.

  However, the plan fell apart when one fearful Goblin hesitated, allowing the person ahead to be struck twice. This caused a cascade of deaths as more Goblins, fearing for their own safety, began to retreat, leaving those already injured as unwitting sacrifices.

  It seemed they all feared that a Goblin further down the line wouldn’t have the nerve to continue, prompting them to fall back as well. That initial hesitant Goblin was eventually executed as an example, marking one of the darkest days in the settlement's history. Since then, a deep-seated fear of this corridor's power to decimate them had persisted.

  As a lone individual, I was acutely aware that the lightning would relentlessly strike me until it claimed my life. I would have barely a second between each strike to brace for the next. Currently, the lightning was still charging, giving me a moment longer to prepare, but I wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to go. When the buzzing sound reached a steady pitch, I knew it was time.

  Zap!

  The blast was intensely bright, the light penetrating even through the dense fabric of my hood. The Biodium chainmail, designed more like a fine mesh than traditional chainmail, was based on the same protective principles. While the hood was too opaque to see through even when facing the brilliant light of the sun, the lightning was so intense that its stark flashes penetrated the fabric, casting sudden, vivid illuminations across my field of vision.

  When Rabbit told me his idea of going through this lightning corridor, before the attack even began, my initial reaction was that he had lost his mind. My second thought was that he expected me to dodge the lightning during the brief one-second intervals between the strikes. It turned out that my first assumption was accurate, as Rabbit was undeniably insane. He explained that dodging the lightning was impossible because electricity always sought the path of least resistance. In a vast air pocket like this corridor, it would inevitably strike anything within it, namely me.

  Rabbit elaborated that different materials had varying levels of electrical resistance. For instance, rubber resisted electricity, while water and metal conducted it efficiently. This principle explained why electrical wires were made of metal and coated with rubber to contain the electricity within the cables and prevent it from escaping. Even though metal was more conductive, if a person touched a live wire, they could provide a more direct path to the ground, allowing the electricity to flow through them despite being less conductive than the metal they were touching.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Without any protective measures, we were basically dead. The lightning in the corridor would naturally follow us, no matter how fast I moved, because I would be the path of least resistance.

  Even though I understood that much already, I initially thought we might use rubber to insulate ourselves, thinking it could prevent the lightning from reaching us due to its low conductivity. However, Rabbit dismissed this idea, explaining that rubber could melt under intense electrical strikes, and any small gap could let electricity in, causing it to course through my whole body. Instead, he proposed a counterintuitive strategy of coating my body in metal.

  “Won’t that make it easier for the electricity to target us?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Exactly,” Rabbit replied, to my horror. “We want the electricity to hit the metal around us rather than us directly. If we're wrapped in something more conductive than our bodies, the electricity will preferentially flow through that path, traveling along the metal and sparing your frail meat bag body.”

  “That sounds insane,” I retorted. “Wouldn’t the Goblins have tried using armor to reduce the damage?”

  “They probably did, and it likely worsened their injuries,” Rabbit explained. “With armor, the lightning can arc between separate metal pieces, following paths of least resistance. This could lead to multiple paths of electricity crisscrossing through the body between these plates, increasing the number of entry and exit wounds. Without armor, the lightning would more likely follow a single, direct path through the body, potentially resulting in less overall damage.”

  “And you want me to do this after describing how terrible it is?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Well, I don’t want you to wear armor. I want you to try that Biodium chainmail. If you can cover all of your body, leaving no areas exposed, it should, in theory, let the lightning travel along the Biodium, bypassing your body completely,” Rabbit replied.

  “What do you mean, ‘in theory’?”

  “Well, we're facing a couple of complications,” he admitted nonchalantly. “First, there's the issue with Biodium itself. We've been told it’s a metal, but is it really? It molds to your skin and even changes color to match the wearer's skin tone. Since the locals tend to classify anything hard and durable as metal, there’s a considerable chance they could be wrong. So, I’d say there's about a fifty-fifty chance it might not be metal at all.”

  “This is not filling me with confidence,” I replied, my worry mounting.

  “Oh, and it shouldn’t," Rabbit continued. "The second issue is that we're in a world governed by magic. Who's to say the physics here follow the same rules as our world? Maybe they do, maybe they don't. I honestly can’t be sure. It would be intriguing to test this out, but remember, we’re operating under a different set of principles here. For instance, your own mana might attract electricity in ways we can't predict. I literally have no way of knowing.”

  Rabbit’s comments did little to reassure me, plunging my already waning confidence into deeper doubt.

  “This sounds like a horrible plan, especially without extensive testing, which we clearly don’t have time for. So, what’s your next best plan?” I asked, clinging to a sliver of hope.

  “Well, based on what the others have told me and their reactions, there’s no way to leave this place without facing significant resistance," Rabbit explained. "The only viable option for survival seems to be going through that lightning chamber.”

  Exasperated, I shot back, “But you just said the lightning chamber is a death trap.”

  “Yes,” Rabbit conceded, “and that’s precisely why it’s a good idea. They won’t want to follow you into a death trap. Plus, if that plan fails, I have another idea to get us through.”

  Eager for any alternative, I pressed, “Then why not start with your other idea? What is it?”

  “It’s not fully developed yet, and it’s equally dangerous. Trust me, if this initial plan fails, we can resort to the next gamble. But that’s all I have left. The choice is yours. You don’t have to help these Goblins. They will let you out, and you can go free. However, if you stay, you’re facing a fight for your way out, or you’re betting on this risky plan. Either way, the decision is yours.”

  That whole conversation had led to being trapped in a corridor with lightning striking all around, pinning my hopes on the physics Rabbit had explained.

  When the first bolt struck, fear nearly stopped my heart. But just as Rabbit had described, the electricity coursed not through me but across the metal encasing me. It traced a fiery path along the chainmail from my head to my feet.

  Then, unexpectedly, something changed.

  As the electricity surged through the chainmail, it encountered the high resistance of the various components in my boots and seared right through them. Each step I took felt like trudging through thick, viscous tar, as my feet sank into the disintegrating shoes. The upper portions of my footwear were torn asunder, spiraling away into the electrified abyss. A thunderous boom reverberated throughout the corridor, causing me to stumble but not entirely collapse to the ground.

  A second later, the lightning flashed once more, but it didn’t boom like the first time. This one in particular was an intense zapping sound, but again, no boom.

  “It worked!” I exclaimed with happiness. I wasn’t sure this was going to work, but now that it had, I felt like I never doubted it in the first place. “Why was the first bolt louder than the second one?”

  “The first bolt destroyed the regular boots you wore over your Biodium ones. They aren’t fully made of metal, so the non-metallic parts in between melted. That resistance caused the louder noise. Also, this is really loud, and I think it’s damaging your hearing,” Rabbit pointed out, and I thought he might be wrong until I realized he was in my head, and even if I went deaf, I could still hear his voice.

  Throughout our brief exchange, I was repeatedly struck by lightning, each strike hammering my ears with deafening noise. Though the first bolt was exceptionally loud, the relentless thunder of electricity suggested I might be deaf by the time I reached the end of this corridor.

  Despite the temptation, I dared not lift my hands to cover my ears. I was terrified that any shift in my posture might alter the path of the electricity through the chainmail and into me, a risk I couldn't afford to take.

  It took a little bit of concentration, but I was able to start circulating my mana once again and strengthen my body. As I slowly walked forward, not seeing anything except Rabbit’s outline, I wondered about the hole in my armor.

  "I think we have a problem," Rabbit abruptly announced, snapping me back to the present.

  “What kind of problem?” I asked, my stomach in knots.

  “Well, you know the Goblins behind you?”

  “Yeah, the ones you assured me wouldn’t come in here because they were afraid to get hit by lightning?” I replied, already knowing where this was going, but wanted to throw it in Rabbit’s face anyway.

  “Yeah, those ones. You can’t hear them, but their voices are starting to echo more, meaning some have entered the corridor,” Rabbit informed me, confirming my suspicions.

  “Okay. So the plan is to get them all deep into the corridor and run behind them, so the lightning targets them instead of me,” I assured, proud of my last-minute plan.

  “That’s a negative, sky captain. I like the idea, but the major problem with your plan is that if your chainmail gets more damaged, it won't be pleasant. Also, you hear that loud booming? It hasn't just destroyed your hearing. It's so loud that I can't distinguish their individual sounds. That means I won’t be able to show you the enemies accurately. Remember, you have your face covered while the Goblins can see. These weaker warriors would eat you up.”

  I was stunned by the logic, so I asked, “What do we do then?”

  Rabbit's voice crackled urgently in my head, "Hurry up. If you move quickly enough and they continue to hesitate, they'll find themselves trapped further back in the corridor. Ideally, only a small number will make it through. Let's hope there's nothing too formidable waiting at the end so you can remove your hood and confront them."

  Spurred by Rabbit's directive, I quickened my already labored steps. Exhaustion clawed at every fiber of my being. Running on empty had taken its toll, and the effort to channel mana into my weary muscles felt increasingly complex. My attempts to draw mana through my muscles kept getting interrupted by the intermittent crashes of electricity and the growing clamor of the Goblins.

  Zap! Zap!

  Zap! Zap!

  “Follow the…”

  Zap!

  “Wait to...”

  Zap!

  Their voices grew louder, and the sounds of their movements were ominously close.

  "Okay, switch to plan B," Rabbit suddenly cut in, his tone more serious than before. "They aren’t planning to attack you directly. They’re just trailing you to the end of this corridor. We need to switch to plan B now. It’s risky, might even be lethal, but trust me, it's a better option than what they have planned for you."

  I couldn't believe it. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that they might capture me alive. It sent a shudder down my spine. Yet, I still had no clue about his Plan B. In this critical moment, trusting Rabbit was my only option.

  “What do I do?” I asked, panic edging my voice.

  “I have been working on creating new spells from what I have learned. We are going to try to teleport your whole body 40 feet. Think about 40 feet directly forward and use the spell when I give you the signal,” Rabbit said, shocking me.

  The possibility of teleporting at will thrilled me. Mastering such a spell would grant me the power to escape from any battle. Until that moment, my spell was limited to transporting lightweight and small objects over short distances. It was a mere parlor trick. I had always hoped that it would one day evolve into something as formidable as what Rabbit described.

  “Now!” Rabbit's voice thundered in my mind. I activated the spell in the same instant lightning struck, and immediately, everything went wrong.