Chapter 1
The mountain trail was familiar: documented, predictable, comforting. Eron Vale had walked it so many times that every bend and slope felt like part of his own memory. He could point out where the rocks always jutted out, where the roots tangled across the ground, and where the trees opened just enough for a glimpse of the valley below. He trusted this path. It was routine, safe, and unchanged for as long as he had known it.
But today, something felt wrong.
The air was heavy and unnaturally still. Usually, a soft wind ran through the trees, carrying the smell of pine and earth, but now there was nothing. The branches hung stiff, not a single leaf stirring. Even the usual sound of birds was gone. The silence wasn't peaceful. It pressed down on him like a weight, making every step louder than it should have been. The crunch of his boots on the gravel sounded sharp. His own breathing filled his ears, steady but uneasy.
He paused, looking around, waiting for something—anything—to break the quiet. Nothing did. The forest had lost its voice.
It felt like the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Eron shook his head, trying to brush off the feeling. He stopped at a ridge, shrugged off his pack, and took out his water bottle. The simple routine calmed him for a moment. He drank, wiped the sweat from his brow, and let his eyes wander across the landscape below. The valley stretched out in the distance, green and endless, the same view he had seen dozens of times. It looked normal, unchanged, exactly what he expected.
Then his gaze caught on something he didn't expect.
Past a jagged outcrop, half-buried under ivy and moss, was an opening in the rock face. Narrow, dark, and sharp-edged, like a split had opened in the mountain.
A cave.
Eron froze. That didn't make sense. He knew this trail. He had been here in the heat of summer, the chill of winter, and everything in between. There had never been a cave here. The guides who worked in these mountains—people who knew every crevice and shortcut—had never spoken of it. None of the maps marked it. Not even the most detailed hiking apps showed anything close to a cave at this spot.
"That's… new?"
The words slipped out before he could stop himself.
Caution tugged at him, but curiosity pushed harder. He stepped off the trail, boots crunching over loose stones and grass. The closer he came, the colder the air felt. A faint breeze drifted out of the cave's mouth, carrying with it a damp, metallic tang that lingered on his tongue. He switched on his flashlight, the beam cutting a pale line across the black gap.
He stopped just before the entrance. His chest tightened, not from the climb, but from something else—a feeling that this was wrong, that he shouldn't be here. His heart thudded in his chest, but his hand gripped the flashlight tighter.
"Just a quick look."
He stepped inside.
Darkness swallowed him immediately. The beam of the flashlight only lit a small slice of the tunnel, leaving shadows pressed against the edges of his vision. The floor was uneven, damp beneath his boots. Roots dangled from cracks in the ceiling. Small puddles glistened where the light struck, reflecting tiny fragments of his own face.
And then he saw the walls.
Symbols were carved into the stone. Spirals, jagged lines, shapes that almost looked like stars or constellations. They were clean, deliberate, too sharp to be weather marks, too exact to be random scratches.
Eron's breath caught. He lifted the light higher, sweeping it across the carvings. There were more of them, stretching deeper into the cave.
"What the hell… these aren't on any hiking forums."
His voice bounced back at him, echoing off the stone, sounding smaller than he wanted it to.
He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. The light from the flashlight mixed with the phone's flash, capturing the markings in harsh, white glare. He opened an image search, heart racing faster than he cared to admit. No matches. He zoomed in on a symbol that looked like an eye split down the middle and tried again. Still nothing.
That was when he saw his signal bars.
Zero.
Eron frowned. He had checked his phone earlier—full bars. He refreshed the connection. The screen stuttered, froze, and then went black. The phone vibrated once, then powered down. He pressed the button. Nothing. Battery still read seventy-six percent when it died, but it was useless now.
"Seriously? Come on…"
He shoved it back into his pocket, gripping the flashlight harder. The beam shook slightly as he walked deeper. The tunnel sloped downward, narrowing as he went. A faint draft brushed against him, damp and cool, like someone breathing against his skin.
Then the ground shook.
A deep rumble rolled through the cave, vibrating through his boots and into his bones. Dust trickled down from the ceiling. Small stones rattled loose and bounced off his shoulders. He staggered, one hand shooting out to steady himself against the wall.
"Earthquake?"
His voice cracked in the stillness.
Panic struck. He turned and ran, boots hammering the stone floor. The beam of his flashlight swung wildly, throwing jagged shadows ahead of him. His own breathing roared in his ears, fast and uneven.
But the tunnel didn't feel right.
He recognized the walls, the cracks, the knots of roots jutting out—but they repeated. The same forked crack flashed past once, then again, then again. His stomach dropped. He was running in the right direction. He had to be. But the cave stretched longer than before, as if the mountain itself was shifting around him.
"Wait… no. This was the way out."
His words came out broken, uneven, almost a plea.
Behind him, the carvings began to glow. At first faint, then stronger. One symbol lit up, then another, then another, until the walls pulsed with light. They flickered in rhythm, slow and steady, like they were alive—or worse, like they were reacting to him.
The air grew thick, heavy against his chest. Breathing felt like dragging sand into his lungs. Sweat stung his eyes as he pushed harder, legs screaming with every step.
Minutes blurred together. His body moved on instinct, but the exit never came. Darkness stretched endlessly in front of him. The walls glowed brighter behind.
At last, his legs gave out. He stumbled to a stop, chest heaving, sweat dripping into his mouth. He bent forward, hands on his knees, trying to drag air back into his lungs. The flashlight beam wavered, shaking across the glowing symbols that surrounded him.
"Where the hell is the way out?"
The cave gave no answer.
Silence closed around him again, thicker than before.
Eron Vale stood alone.
Trapped.