One moment, there is a massive stone creature, looming over Toby, about to crush him into paste.
The next, there is nothing but a pile of gray dust settling on the chamber floor. The warden is gone. Vanished. Not destroyed, but...unmade. Just enough of it left in the form of the dust to make it so that I couldn't have imagined it.
Silence falls over the chamber. The oppressive heat is gone, replaced by a cool, dry stillness. The light from the orb has faded to a soft, twilight glow.
For a moment, I can only stare at the pile of dust.
What just happened?
How did it-?
Then, I remember Toby.
I run to him, my bare feet skidding in the fine gray powder that used to be a monster. He's lying on his side, half-buried in the rubble of the broken pillar. His eyes are closed, his face is pale and streaked with dust and sweat.
I kneel beside him, my hand hovering over his chest, afraid of what I might find. Then I see it. A faint, shallow rise and fall. It's shallow, but steady.
He's alive. Unconscious, but alive.
Dull relief registers, before I fall down onto the dust with a thump.
I'm too tired for anything more expressive.
Tired and confused as to why we survived right before we were about to die.
My gaze scans the area - that's about as much as my energy allows me to do right now. I won't be leaping back up to continue digging in the dirt and stone for keys again. Not just yet, at least.
Could that silver stuff had caused a delayed reaction? It seems unlikely. I'd have expected some kind of melting or sizzling or...
Something related to the actual liquid. Not a sudden collapse to powder.
It was more along the lines...of one of us solving a riddle on accident.
But I was barely doing anything at the time, and Toby was...actively unconscious. Even if I didn't understand the puzzle, I cant' see how either of us could have accidentally stumbled into the answer in that exact moment.
Nor did we do much to change it leading up to that, either. Unless Toby's otherwise useless looking attack had somehow critically injured it.
I rather doubt that.
The fight doesn't appear to have exposed anything like some magical rune of light. that dispelled the warden. Nothing like that. If anything, the place looks worse now than it did before. And the orb that seemed connected to the warden is still intact, even if it's calmed now.
My eyes scan across the room once more, and then cross the broken pillar.
That.
Grips my attention.
Toby is barely alive, probably only alive at all because whatever we're made of now is tougher stuff than we should be. His chains are still heavy and laying over him.
But they're loose.
The pillar that they were tied to is broken now. The chains aren't attached to anything, simply lying freely on the ground. If he were conscious he could simply slip them off of him.
I can't help but stare at those.
It's not just a feeling that says that the chains and the warden were related. My eyes see the dust on the ground, and my brain doesn't make a connection that these two things are the same. But...
I know they are.
I don't know how, but I'm sure.
These chains were made by the warden.
That's what I assume. Might even be what Toby said when he was rambling a little while ago.
But.
This place is strange. Even if he remembered the Warden locking him away and tossing a key, could it somehow be that the chains had created the Warden instead?
Or...
I blink slowly, and look down at the unconscious man.
It's a ridiculous thought. One I can't hope to say with any confidence now, with how little experience I've had with this place.
Could his consciousness, somehow, have been the one creating the warden...? Is that why it was gone the moment he went down?
Is that possible?
That the one imprisoning him was his own mind somehow?
It's a quaint answer, but I don't have enough evidence to say that with any degree of certainty.
If I think about what I've seen... David was in a factory. That surgeon had found an operating theater. The nurse too, somehow, had met up with him. They weren't completely isolated from what mattered to them, despite this labyrinthine halls.
It's bare scraps of evidence, and I don't even know why David would want to be in a factory at all if that's the case. If anything, he goes against that, as I'd think he'd want...a clinic, or something, right?
But -
Still. It's a nagging thought that I can't quite dismiss.
Could it be our consciousness can somehow influence this place? Or that it is...reacting to us deliberately for some reason...?
No. No.
I shake my head.
It won't help me to form wild theories on barely any observation. I need to understand this place at least a bit if I want to survive to make it to the top, I know that, but it won't help me to make up fiction.
I can't completely disregard it, but I can't dwell on it, either.
It's a question worth asking someone, though. If I ever find another sane person who knows more about this place. I have a long way to go, and there's bound to be someone.
Or maybe Toby will wake up and I'll get more answers.
That would be nice, but I'm not counting on it.
Time passes, though I never know in this place how long that is. He doesn't wake up, but he does seem to slip into a more restful looking sleep, rather than the initial ragged unconsciousness he suffered.
I stand up, my legs wobbling beneath me. I'm exhausted. I need to rest. But I can't stay here. The warden is gone, but who knows what else this floor has in store. And who knows how long Toby will sleep before he wakes up.
I pick my way through the rubble to the other side of the chamber, where the exit is. The corridor beyond is just like the others, a straight, unending path. But it's a path forward.
I look back at Toby. I could drag him with me. He's unconscious. He wouldn't be able to stop me.
But I'd be dragging dead weight through this hellscape. It would slow me down. Get me killed, or him killed instead.
And..I can't make the choice for him.
To go forward in this place.
He asked me to free him, and I have. He's alive now, and his tormenter is dead. The chains are loosed.
Whatever choice he makes from here is his to make. Even if that means staying here. At least he has the chance to make it.
I turn and walk through the doorway, leaving the chamber of dust and broken stone behind me.
I don't look back.