The Palace of Illusions
Raghu awoke slowly, his body aching from the journey through the blue light that had pulled him into the Doom Train. Darkness enveloped him, yet faint luminescence revealed a winding cave ahead. The air was heavy with moisture, and he felt the sting of acidic water seeping into his clothes. Each step he took left him wary; every splash echoed like a warning. Despite the pain and discomfort, he knew he had to explore. Survival depended on understanding his surroundings.
Moving cautiously, Raghu began mapping the cave as he went, noting the sharp, receding rocks and patches of algae-covered water. The path was treacherous—slippery, acidic, and uneven—but military training and years of street experience guided his movements. He found a shallow pool near the gorge's edge and debated internally whether the water could be dangerous. Not wanting to risk it, he improvised a measuring system using his belt, cutting it into seven pieces and tying them together to create a makeshift rope. The knife tied to one end would act as a test probe, allowing him to gauge the water's properties without direct contact.
Hours passed as he waited for the knife to rest in the water, his body pressing against a dry rock to dry and warm himself. Finally, retrieving the makeshift rope, he examined the knife: no reaction. The water was acidic to the skin but not to the steel, suggesting some selective corrosive properties. With cautious optimism, he plunged into the gorge, the icy water immediately numbing him. Each stroke tested his endurance, his lungs straining against the cold. By the time he reached the far side, exhaustion left him shivering violently, yet his determination never wavered.
Before moving forward, he allowed himself a rare moment to assess his strange physiology. Hunger and thirst had not touched him since entering the cave, a curious side effect of the CNC initiation, he assumed. Could this be the body's way of preserving energy? He dismissed the thought, focusing instead on survival, drying his clothes with old-fashioned patience and meditative breathing to replenish the energy he felt sustaining him.
Ahead, the cave opened to a structure unlike any he had encountered before: ruins of what might once have been a majestic palace. Blue light radiated from a crystal atop the highest point, reflecting off jagged rocks and corroded pillars. Acidic water had left its mark, eating away at the stone, leaving jagged edges and pits, yet the central structure remained intact. As Raghu carefully ascended, he noted the remnants of twelve pillars, with evidence of twenty-four others destroyed or eroded over time.
The interior revealed a blend of ruin and artistry. Hand-carved vases decorated each step, depicting ancient goddesses pointing toward distant mountains and extinct animals rendered in lifelike detail. The craftsmanship spoke of a time when this place was alive with purpose and reverence. As Raghu reached the second floor, he noticed a small, folded paper wedged among cobwebs. As he touched it, the paper disintegrated instantly into dust. Before he could react, it reformed, as if time itself reversed around it. Fascinated and cautious, he tested other papers, discovering the same phenomenon throughout the building. It seemed the palace itself was alive, enforcing its own rules of time and preservation.
Reaching the top floor, Raghu was met with a sight that froze him in place. Bodies floated around the crystal, trapped in a horrific time loop. Each attempted to approach the crystal, only to be burned or melted away by an intense beam of light, their forms repeating eternally. The scene was so vivid that past and present blurred; sweat ran down his face as fear took hold. Despite this, his curiosity forced him to explore further.
Among the ruins, Raghu noticed smaller crystals flickering in subtle patterns, reflecting the central light. He realized these stones were responsible for the projections, creating illusions to confuse and scare intruders. His relief was brief; the crystal itself shifted in hue, cycling from blue to green to red. Each color brought a new projection: a translucent, jelly-like being, devouring those attempting to claim the crystal. The room was alive with these ever-changing illusions, testing both perception and courage.
Understanding the danger, Raghu refrained from touching the central crystal. Instead, he began studying the patterns, noting the positions of stones and the flow of light. Hours passed as he diligently noted the projections, his mind working as rigorously as his body had in the gorge. The palace seemed to respond to his presence, the illusions shifting subtly, challenging him to perceive the difference between reality and trickery.
Eventually, he descended to explore other areas of the cave. The path twisted endlessly, but his exploration revealed a consistency: the palace and its surroundings were designed to teach, test, and intimidate. Every obstacle, every illusion, and every corrosive pool contributed to a greater understanding, forcing Raghu to adapt and survive.
Then, unexpectedly, he saw a human-like figure, towering and silent. Raghu attempted to approach, but an invisible barrier prevented him from reaching the figure. Confused, he experienced a chime in his mind: "Congratulations on finding the Temple of Niyoginaha. Complete the trail to proceed further." The world around him dissolved, and Raghu lost consciousness, waking once again in the familiar cave where his journey had begun.
The experience had left him both shaken and enlightened. He retraced his steps, eager to reach the palace again. This time, the ruins were transformed. The palace gleamed in all its original glory, radiating nobility and grandeur. Standing atop the structure was a figure, her eyes glowing yellow, observing him with an intensity that both intrigued and terrified him. Despite the palace's beauty, Raghu could sense the weight of unseen forces, the meticulous design of trials and tests stretching far beyond simple survival.
As he approached the palace once more, Raghu realized that he has traced the same steps again barring the changes in surrounding which were more challenging . The palace, the crystal, the illusions—they were all part of a broader challenge designed to test not just skill, but perception, patience, and resolve. Every choice he made now carried weight, and every misstep could be fatal.
The trials of the Doom Train as he named it, were beginning to reveal their true complexity. Raghu's journey had evolved from mere survival to an intricate dance of observation, strategy, and endurance. he has always trusted his instincts, had always measured his actions. The palace of illusions had taught him one critical lesson: in this world, seeing was not believing, and only by understanding the rules hidden beneath the surface could he hope to survive.