For thirty whole minutes, they ran. And not just casual running.
No.
This was desperate, full-speed sprinting with literal death chasing at their heels.
At least, for Creed it was.
The crimson magma had flooded every single path behind them, turning all possible escape routes into boiling, glowing rivers of doom.
There was no turning back. No stopping. No moment to even catch their breath.
They had two choices; keep running forward or take a nice, sizzling magma bath in a liquid that would drive you crazy.
Creed had never run so hard in his life. His lungs burned. His legs felt like they were made of pure lead.
His throat was dry, his body was drenched in sweat, and his entire existence had been boiled down to a single thought.
Keep. Running.
He swore this was enough cardio for an entire month. No—an entire year! Heck, at this point, he might as well cancel his future leg training forever!
