For a moment, Riley was blinded by the sun. As his eyes adjusted, the world revealed itself in breathtaking silence.
Before him stretched a sprawling mountain range, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. No clouds marred the horizon. Every ridge and valley was lit with warm gold, like the whole world had been waiting for him to wake.
To the left, an ocean shimmered beneath the light, scattered with small, jagged islands like shattered fragments of a forgotten land. To the right, the terrain shifted wildly—rolling green hills, glowing forests of blue-lit trees, rivers that gleamed like mercury. It was surreal, alive, and impossible.
But not all of it was beautiful.
Just two steps in front of him, the ledge dropped away into a chasm of jagged rock. The fall was long. Final.
Riley stepped back instinctively, heart ticking harder in his chest.
As stunning as the view was, he couldn't afford to stand here admiring it. He needed to move. Somehow, he had to get off this mountain. Judging by the vantage point, he was probably on the tallest peak for miles.
His path curled off to the right along a narrow ledge. He followed it slowly, boots crunching against frost-bitten stone. Before long, he reached a small clearing tucked into a small valley. The mountain loomed above him, lit up by the sun. It was truly enormous. As Riley began to walk into the clearing, his ears tuned into a nice song. One he hadn't heard in a long time.
And it worried him.
Music.
Faint. Familiar. Just a few broken notes.
It drifted through the cold air like a half-remembered dream. A song from a party years ago—something his friends had blasted while laughing into the night. It should've been comforting.
It wasn't.
Riley froze. His earbuds were in, but no sound came from them. The music was out there, in the clearing.
Everything around him felt too still. No wind. No birds. No echo. Even his breath sounded wrong—too loud.
He took another step forward.
And suddenly the music stopped.
Silence returned. But not normal silence. The kind that pressed in.
An itch in his brain told him to head back into the cavern. He turned back to glance at the path he'd taken.
That's when he saw it.
A figure stood right where he would've been moments ago, overlooking the landscape.
Still. Human-shaped. Watching.
It hadn't been there before.
His pulse kicked up, but he squinted, trying to make sense of it. The figure wasn't moving. Wasn't walking. Just… standing.
As his eyes focused, the details unsettled him more.
Its body was incomplete. Hollow, in places. Parts of its chest and limbs flickered with static, like something failing to render. Its head was smooth—glasslike—and reflected the world back at him in twisted distortion.
And in that reflection, Riley saw… himself.
Not as he was, but off. His mouth hung too wide, his smile a second too late. Eyes that didn't blink.
He blinked. Looked away. Heart hammering.
The voice crackled to life in his ear.
"Well, that's not good," Proxy whispered. "Keep looking at it, Riley. Don't let it out of your sight even for a second."
Riley's breath caught. His body froze. Slowly, he turned his head back.
The figure had moved.
It now stood only a few steps away.
"Oh, gosh. What is it?" Riley whispered.
"It's called an Oculus. It can't hurt you—yet. Do you have anything sharp?"
"Yeah, I have a knife, but it's in my bag."
"Good. Don't break eye contact. Get it out of your bag slowly. The Oculus won't move while you're watching."
Riley reached behind himself, dragging his pack forward without shifting his gaze. He unzipped the top with trembling fingers and fumbled blindly until his hand closed around the knife.
He pulled it free and slung the bag over his shoulder again.
"I've got it. Now what?"
"Start backing away. Slowly."
Riley shuffled backwards, eyes locked on the Oculus and the cliff beside it. It didn't move. He was now moving into the clearing, the area before him slowly widening.
But then, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention, tucked behind a rock hidden from his initial view.
Movement.
Another figure sprinting full speed toward him.
When Riley turned to look, it froze. But the first one, the one he'd been watching, lurched forward.
Panic surged. He darted his gaze between the two, but it was no use. One would always be free.
The original was just strides away now. Its gait was unnatural—like bones bending the wrong way, limbs flicking forward like a marionette on tangled strings. It made no sound. No breath. Just silent, horrifying motion.
"Riley," Proxy hissed. "Use the knife. Aim for the face. Pry the mask off."
Riley raised the knife to do just that. But as he did, the nervous energy got the better of his grip. The blade slipped.
Panic, fear and frustration overtook him in that moment. How? Why? What on earth is he doing right now?
In his spike of frustration, a blinding spike of pain tore through his eyes. Everything slowed. The knife drifted toward the ground like a feather caught in syrup. The second Oculus crawled forward in distorted, agonising slowness.
Riley's body felt locked in slowed motion, but his mind was clear—sharpened. His left hand floated up with eerie control. He caught the knife by the handle with professional ease. Although he didn't know what was going on, a smirk appeared on Riley's face.
Then time snapped back.
He lunged.
The blade plunged into the side of the Oculus's face. With a violent tug, he pried away the mask. The creature shrieked—a deafening screech, like metal dragging across bone.
In his hand was the mask—his own face, grotesque and hollow.
The Oculus' body vanished in a puff of dust, floating to the ground.
He whirled around. The second one was inches away.
Riley recoiled, jumping back on instinct, only maybe half a meter—
—But for some unfortunate reason, there was nothing beneath his feet.
His heart dropped. Wind screamed past him.
The clearing had vanished, and the Oculus with it. He was falling.
The world blurred in a rush of shadows and light. Jagged rock walls spun around him briefly before opening into a wide open area. Riley didn't have time to take it in as wind whipped through his hair, stealing his breath. His stomach churned, limbs flailing for something—anything—to grab.
Then—
Splash.
Icy water swallowed him whole. The cold was immediate and brutal, punching the air from his lungs. Panic clawed up his throat as he kicked toward the surface, heart hammering.
He broke through, gasping.
A faint white glow pulsed nearby. A shoreline.
Riley swam hard, driven by raw adrenaline. He hauled himself onto the rocky shore, coughing and shivering, the knife and mask nowhere to be seen.
He lay there for a minute or two, soaked and breathless, before finally pushing himself up. Sunlight poured down from the gap in the cavern's ceiling, illuminating the space with a surreal, golden glow. As he looked around, he realised exactly where he was.
The cavern. The same one he'd found earlier.
Only this time, he stood on the small island in the middle of the lake—right at the heart of it.
A thought then struck him—sharp and urgent.
He spun, scanning the space around him only he couldn't see anything accept water and the island.
A childlike giggle echoed behind him. Mischievous. Playful. Unnerving.
Riley hesitated, pretending to think for a second, then turned fast.
There it was.
The white flame.
It hovered in the air, swaying gently before vanishing in a blink.
Another giggle followed.
He turned again—and saw it hovering above him, basking in the shaft of sunlight streaming down from the ceiling.
"Well, this isn't good either," Proxy muttered, his voice more uneasy than usual. "That thing is probably why you saw those freaky Oculus earlier."
"Or why I managed to kill one and dodge the other," Riley said. Whatever had happened up there—it hadn't come from him. It had to have come from the wisp.
There was a burst of static in his ear.
"Maybe you're right," Proxy said. "But now we have to deal with it."
The wisp circled him, looping once in the air before disappearing again.
But it didn't stay hidden.
Moments later, it reappeared—and this time, it wasn't alone.
A dozen more white wisps flickered into existence.
Then dozens more.
The entire cavern was filled with them, glowing softly in the golden light. Their shapes bobbed and weaved through the air, and their high-pitched, childlike laughter rose in waves.
Riley turned, surrounded.
"Why are they doing that?" he asked. "Do will-o'-the-wisps harm people?"
There was a pause. Then Proxy's voice crackled.
"No… not directly. If they wanted to hurt you, they wouldn't fight you themselves. They'd just lead misfortune your way."
That did nothing to calm him.
The giggling grew louder, and the white flames multiplied. One appeared ahead of him. It hovered directly in front of his face. Its form shimmered, and the tip of its flame split into two small arms.
The strange arms reached out.
Riley didn't flinch. He stood frozen, knowing there was nothing he could do. Surrounded by hundreds—maybe thousands—of them, the last thing he wanted to do was annoy something that could bring him misfortune.
So he held his breath.
The white flame touched his face.
It wasn't hot.
It wasn't cold.
It wasn't anything at all.
Then—
Silence.
The laughter stopped.
The cavern, just seconds ago teeming with light and sound, was empty.
Even the one that touched him was gone.
At first, it felt subtle, but a discomfort grew progressively more intense—the pain.
It ripped through his eyes and throat, a burning force unlike anything he'd ever felt. Not like fire. Not like electricity. This pain was everywhere—consuming, raw.
He'd heard of heart attacks feeling like a chest burn.
This was far worse.
He opened his mouth to scream—
—and a white flame burst from him, spiralling upward before plunging back into his chest.
He collapsed to the ground.
The pain overwhelmed him. Filling his mind. Riley lost track of time.
Eventually, when the agony faded, Riley lay still, the moon's milky white glow from the ceiling casting long shadows across the cavern.
He was drenched, shivering, but very much alive.
How could it possibly get worse than this?