Primordial Awakening: I Breathe Skill Points!-Chapter 98: Two of Five (1)

Kael and Seris stood on their side of the wall in silence. The kind of silence that came from shock rather than choice. The kind that preceded either action or complete breakdown.

Not the comfortable silence of people who’d run out of things to say. The terrible silence of people processing trauma in real-time. Trying to understand how their world had just rearranged itself without warning.

Two people. Where there had been five. Without Tank’s tactical leadership that had kept them alive through situations that should have killed them.

Without Whisper’s navigation that had guided them through corridors that made no geometric sense. Without Zeph’s analytical problem-solving that identified patterns before they became fatal.

Just a claustrophobic fighter with severe fear issues and a healer.

The two least equipped to survive alone in a facility specifically designed to kill trained soldiers. And the maze knew it. Could probably sense it through whatever mechanisms tracked their movement and calculated threat levels.

"Okay," Kael said finally. His voice came out too high, too tight. Like someone trying very hard to sound calm and failing spectacularly. "Okay. We’re fine. We’re totally fine."

His hands were shaking. He clasped them together to hide it. Didn’t work. Just made both hands shake together instead of separately.

"We need to keep moving," Seris said. Her professional healer’s calm was still holding but showed visible cracks around the edges. Voice steady but hands trembling slightly when she adjusted her grip on the light stone. "Tank said to descend. Find the center. We do that."

"Tank also had Whisper who can actually read the walls and Zeph who’s apparently made of ice and tactical efficiency." Kael’s voice was climbing toward panic. He could hear it happening but couldn’t stop it. "We don’t have Whisper to read the walls. We don’t know where we’re going."

"Down. We know down. That’s enough."

"Down is a direction, not a plan. Down could lead literally anywhere in this nightmare facility. Down could lead us directly into the Harvester’s feeding chamber for all we know."

"Kael—"

"I’m just saying we should acknowledge the extremely limited nature of our information here. Like, catastrophically limited. Like, we know one direction and precisely nothing else about what we’re walking into."

Kael looked at the corridor ahead with the expression of someone being asked to walk into a tiger’s mouth. Narrow. Dark beyond their light sources. Glowing script covering every surface in languages that meant absolutely nothing to them.

Might as well be decorative patterns for all the good it did. Pretty lights before death. "We’re lost. We’re fucking lost. We’re going to die down here and nobody will ever find our bodies."

"And in a thousand years, some future archaeologist will discover our skeletons and wonder what complete idiots walked into an obviously dangerous alien facility without proper preparation or support."

"That archaeologist will be correct in their assessment. We are those idiots."

"Kael." Seris grabbed his shoulders with both hands. Forced eye contact with the intensity of someone who desperately needed him to hold it together. "We stay calm. We keep moving down. We’ll find the others at the convergence point. Tank said so."

"Tank also said to stay together and look how spectacularly that worked out." The words came out more bitter than he’d intended. Anger easier than fear. "The maze just dropped a two-foot-thick wall between us and I don’t see Tank anywhere to provide better instructions."

"Kael."

He took a breath. Held it for a count of five and let it out slowly ."Right. Okay. Down. We go down. Simple."

"Simple," Seris agreed. Her tone suggesting she believed this about as much as he did. Which was not at all.

They started moving. Seris took point position with a light stone held high. Casting as much illumination as the magical item could manage. Creating a sphere of visibility in the oppressive darkness.

Kael followed three steps behind. Sword ready in a grip tight enough to make his knuckles white. Close enough to support her if something attacked. Far enough to have reaction time.

Jumping at every sound. Every scrape of stone on stone. Every distant echo that might be footsteps approaching. Every shift in the walls that might be the maze rearranging itself around them.

His heart hammered steadily. Not quite panic attack levels but approaching the threshold. Breathing carefully to keep it controlled.

The maze’s behavior changed within minutes of their separation. Recognizing they were weaker without the group. More vulnerable to exploitation. More likely to make fatal mistakes.

The security system had apparently updated its threat assessment. Recalculated their danger level. Found it significantly reduced.

The walls moved more aggressively than before. Closing paths faster with that grinding bone sound that made Kael’s teeth ache. Opening new routes that felt fundamentally wrong in ways neither could articulate. Like the maze was herding them rather than testing them.

Guiding them toward something specific. Something predetermined. Something they probably didn’t want to find.

"The maze feels different," Seris said quietly. Voicing what they’d both noticed. "More active. More aggressive."

"It knows there’s only two of us now. Probably recalculated our threat level from ’moderate’ to ’negligible.’" Kael’s voice carried bitter humor. "Which is accurate, honestly. We are significantly less dangerous than we were with Tank and the others."

"That’s not helping our morale."

"Just being realistic. Realism is healthy. Helps manage expectations."

"Your realism is terrifying."

"My realism is accurate. There’s a difference."

Traps activated more frequently than they had with the full group. As if the security system had recalculated acceptable mortality rates for reduced group sizes. Decided two people could afford higher risk thresholds.

That losing one or both of them was an acceptable outcome of whatever testing process this represented. Just data points in the algorithm. Expendable variables.

The first trap was a pressure plate. Ancient stone that looked exactly like every other stone in the floor. No visible difference in color or texture or positioning.

Kael stepped on it before either of them registered anything wrong. His boot came down with normal weight and the plate depressed maybe two millimeters. Barely noticeable.

The click of activation was soft but unmistakable. The sound of something mechanical engaging deep in the floor. Of gears turning after centuries of stillness. Of consequences beginning.

"Move!" Seris shouted. Already diving sideways. Already knowing what came next through pure survival instinct.

The ceiling opened. Panels sliding back with mechanical precision that suggested perfect maintenance despite impossible age. Spikes descended with frightening speed. Gravity and mechanism working together.

Each one as thick as a finger. As long as a forearm. Covered in something that glistened wetly in their light. Liquid coating the metal. Dripping slowly from the tips.

Definitely not water. Definitely not lubricant. Definitely something designed to make this trap worse.

Kael pushed Seris forward with both hands. Hard enough to send her stumbling clear of the spike zone. Hard enough that she hit the opposite wall with her shoulder in an impact that would leave bruises. Not hard enough to save himself entirely.

One spike punched through his left shoulder. Through the muscle between shoulder and collarbone in a location that was simultaneously lucky and catastrophically unlucky. Missed the major blood vessels by centimeters. Missed the bone structure entirely. Went straight through soft tissue and stopped when the tip hit the floor.

Pinning him in place like an insect in a collection. Like a butterfly mounted for display. Like a specimen meant for permanent preservation.

Kael screamed. High and shocked and full of pain that hadn’t processed into full comprehension yet. Still operating on the adrenaline spike that came with sudden traumatic injury. The sound echoed down the corridor like an alarm announcing weakness. Announcing prey.

The spikes retracted as fast as they’d descended. Mechanical precision working in reverse. Pulled out clean with a wet sucking sound. Left Kael on his knees with blood soaking his shirt from both wounds.

The puncture was clean—entry and exit, no tearing or jagged edges. Just two neat holes through muscle. But deep. Bleeding freely from both sides. Through and through.

"Don’t move," Seris said. Already beside him despite having just been thrown against a wall. Healer’s instincts overriding pain and shock and fear. "Let me see it. Don’t try to apply pressure yourself."

Her hands were steady now. Professional training taking over. This was familiar territory. Injuries she could treat. Problems she could solve.

She pulled his shirt away from the wound with careful fingers. Examined the damage with professional assessment that temporarily overrode her horror at what had just happened. Entry wound in front showing a clean circular hole. Exit wound in back showing the same.

Bleeding steadily but not spurting. The blood flow consistent but not arterial. Not the pulsing spray that meant death in minutes. Muscle damage obvious from the way his shoulder wasn’t holding position correctly. Hanging slightly lower than it should.

But everything vital intact. No major vessels severed. No critical nerves destroyed. No bone fragments. Just traumatized muscle and a lot of blood.

"You’ll be okay," she said. Hands already glowing with healing magic. Warm golden light that felt like sunlight on skin. Like hope made visible. "The spike missed everything critical. You got incredibly lucky."

"Hurts like hell," Kael managed. His voice shaking badly enough to make words difficult. Each syllable requiring effort. "Everything critical feels pretty fucking hit from here."

"That’s shock talking. Your body’s entire nervous system is screaming alarm signals right now. But structurally, you’re intact." Healing light flowed into the wounds like liquid warmth. Closing them from the inside out. Knitting muscle fiber back together cell by cell. Sealing blood vessels. Reducing inflammation. "The spike went straight through muscle. Didn’t hit bone, didn’t sever major vessels, didn’t destroy nerves. Painful but survivable."

"Just muscle. Right. So comforting."

"It is comforting. Muscle heals. You’ll be able to use the arm."

"When? Because right now it feels like dead weight attached to screaming nerves."

"Give the healing time to work. Minutes, not hours."

They rested for five minutes that felt like fifty. Time stretched by pain and fear. Seris poured healing energy into the wound with steady concentration. Watching muscle knit back together under her hands.

Until it closed from gaping bleeding holes to angry red marks. Until Kael could move his arm without the world going white with pain. Could lift it without nausea. Could grip his sword without dropping it.

Still hurt. Still ached like he’d been stabbed through the shoulder. Which he had been. But functional pain instead of incapacitating agony. Pain he could work through instead of pain that paralyzed.

"Can you fight?" she asked. The question they both knew was coming. The question that mattered more than comfort.

"Have to be able to," he replied. Testing his grip on the sword. Opening and closing his hand. Rolling his shoulder carefully. Everything protested but functioned. "Not like we have options. Not like we can just sit here and hope the maze leaves us alone."

"We could rest longer. Give it more time to heal completely."

"And give the maze more time to close in on us? More time for traps to activate? No. We move now while I can still move."

"Your shoulder—"

"—will work well enough. It has to."

They stood. Kael swaying slightly but upright. Testing his balance. Confirming his legs worked. Seris stayed close in case he fell.

They continued forward. Kael’s shoulder aching with every movement. Every swing of his arm sending pain signals he had to consciously ignore. Every breath moving his chest in ways that pulled on damaged tissue.

Seris walked ahead, watching the floor obsessively for more pressure plates.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​