Vorden made his way through the narrow tunnel, the path winding endlessly with no sign of reprieve. He wasn't exactly worried, not yet—but the space had begun to tighten around him, forcing him to turn sideways and inch along with deliberate care. The walls were rough, uneven, scraped by time and something else he couldn't name. Up ahead, the passage seemed to widen again, so with a shrug, he pressed forward.
Just as he reached the tightest point yet, his torso twisted awkwardly to pass through, he felt the slab of stone beneath his feet shift. A low, grinding crunch echoed through the tunnel as the rock sank about an inch, locking around his chest with sudden finality.
"Shit," he muttered, twisting slightly. He tried to slide backward, then forward, but neither direction gave way. The pressure clamped down across his ribs and spine like the jaws of a giant.
"Fuck," he growled under his breath, trying again.
No good. He was wedged tightly, and while he could have used the super strength ability they carried in reserve, the risk was too great. One wrong burst of force and the entire passage might come down on him. They hadn't copied any earth manipulation abilities for this mission, unsure how the strange minerals in Morvidk's mountains would react. The composition wasn't exactly stone—at least not any kind native to Earth or the planets they were used to navigating.
He racked his brain for options, his pulse pounding in his head as the deafening silence of the tunnel amplified his heart rate as it began ticking upward—and then, he heard it.
Movement.
A faint, almost imperceptible rustle, just a small distance ahead. Small. Subtle. But unmistakably alive.
It was coming from further ahead—inside the tunnel with him. It was moving toward him. Directly at him.
Panic tightened in his chest, as his blood ran cold, draining all the color from his face. His muscles tensed, his arms straining uselessly against the press of rock. He was a sitting duck, pinned in place and powerless to face whatever creature was slowly moving in his direction. He began pulling against the stone in earnest now, pain lancing through his back each time as a jagged edge pressed it's razer like point into his side each time he tried to wiggle himself in that direction. In order to retreat.
"Dammit—" he hissed, breath catching.
The sound came closer. Still soft, still slow, but steady. Dread began to cloud his mind, making him frantic, trying desperately to find some way out of his situation. He sucked in his breath, attempting to make himself as narrow as possible, hoping to gain even a hair's breath of wiggle room between his muscular chest and the unforgiving stone. Unfortunately that was a big mistake, as it simply caused him to slide further down into the wedge he was in. Vorden stifled a painful groan as he felt something sharp slicing just slightly into his back.
He tried once more to rock back and forth, hoping to free himself. The sharp point of the wall that tried to pierce his side each time he attempted to retrieve was slightly higher up in position, but just as ever present. He clenched his jaw. If he couldn't back up, then he'd have to go forward. Toward it. Whatever it was.
Muttering a sharp curse under his breath, Vorden forced himself to breathe, then pushed forward—inch by inch, scraping, dragging, shoving his way through the narrow gap. With a final grunt of effort, he ripped himself free, stumbling forward with such force he nearly toppled face-first onto the stone floor below him, landing instead on one knee.
He regained his footing quickly and reached for the short sword slung at his side, unsheathing it with practiced precision as he looked around to face the noise coming at him.
The tunnel ahead was silent. Too silent. So silent that again all he could hear was the wild thumping of his heart beating like a runaway engine, roaring in his head. Vorden held his breath, bracing himself.
Then, from the deep darkness of the tunnel ahead of him, and much to his surprise, a tiny creature emerged.
Vorden jumped back from surprise as whatever it was leapt toward his feet with slow, awkward hops, its form squat and reptile like. It resembled a toad—if toads on this planet came with faintly translucent skin and six stubby legs. The creature ignored him entirely, hopping past his boots without even a passing glance, then continued up the tunnel in the opposite direction.
Vorden watched the little creature make its way back the direction from which he came, and slowly exhaled a shaky breath once it had finally moved completely out of sight. Feeling the color return to his cheeks he lifted one trembling hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow. Then he laughed softly at himself, shaking his head.
"Oh man… I'm glad Raten wasn't here to see that," he muttered, returning the short sword unceremoniously to its sheath.
He adjusted his sword's strap, rolled his shoulders, and continued forward. The tunnel was still tight, but it widened slightly, the oppressive walls giving him just enough space to breathe.
Just as his heartbeat had finally returned to normal, another sound echoed through the passage ahead.
This one, however, was not small. At least, it sure did not sound so.
It was heavier. Louder. A thud, followed by a strained grunt. It sounded a bit further away that the sound he had heard before, echoing more it seemed.
Vorden narrowed his eyes and smirked to himself.
"Not falling for that again," he said under his breath.
Still, he slowed his steps, now moving with more caution. The sound came again—another grunt, unmistakably human. And then he heard the voice. Familiar. Frustrated. Struggling.
His brother.
Sil.
Vorden's expression hardened, the smirk vanishing. He picked up his pace, careful to keep his footsteps controlled, balancing urgency with silence. The tunnel twisted ahead, and he pressed forward, navigating every curve and narrowing wall with precision.
He didn't know what Sil was up against—but whatever it was, he was determined to reach him before it was too late.