Walking took time to master, mostly because Jermal had to rest every two minutes. Still, after what felt like two full days of practice, he finally managed to move with some stability.
Fighting was out of the question. Walking alone felt like a trial from the gods. Fighting would be a last resort.
Oddly enough, Jermal noticed that he never felt hungry in this place. Nor thirsty. Only pure, crushing exhaustion lingered in his limbs. It was as if the world had removed one of his burdens. As if it understood he already had enough to deal with. Jermal found that hard to believe.
"Nothing is ever free."
Even so, he had no time left to waste. By his rough estimation, nearly a week had passed since he arrived in this strange world. It was finally time to move.
Leaving the cave on his own two legs felt liberating. A bird freed from its cage might feel the same. Jermal did not allow himself to celebrate. He needed to stay focused.
His initial plan had been to walk along the side of the cliff, staying close to the wall for balance. But now that he stood outside and saw the steep incline above him, a new idea pushed itself into his mind: climb up, reach the plateau, and travel normally from there.
"Easier said than done. I am barely a toddler right now."
He stood at the cave entrance, weighing his choices. The first option demanded constant vigilance with every step. The second promised easier travel, but only after enduring two or three hours of grueling climbing. And that was assuming he did not slip, fall, and snap his neck on the canyon floor.
Jermal looked at the sun, as immovable as always. It shone dimly on the rock, as it would have back on his world during an eclipse.
"Only up from here, right?"
The climb began. First his left arm. Then his right leg. Right arm. Left leg.
Jermal moved slowly, giving himself time to breathe and to choose each hold with care. There was no reason to hurry.
Soon enough, a rhythm emerged. Half his mind focused on the climb itself. The other half wandered freely.
"I should come up with a name for this place."
That single thought stayed with him for what felt like an hour, during which he slipped nearly ten times.
Eventually, a name took shape. The Land of Rebirth.
He had been forced to relearn everything. How to stand. How to walk. How to function in this strange world where nothing felt familiar. His old instincts were useless here. His old strength meant nothing.
So even if he had not truly been born again, the name felt right.
"If someone objects, speak now or forever hold your peace. No one? All right, it's settled."
Talking to himself might have seemed insignificant to an outsider, and Jermal probably would have said the same. Yet there was truth behind the habit. This place was silent. Vast. Empty. A cage with no bars and no roof.
Never in his life had he been alone for so long. He had always stayed close to his tribe. Always heard voices around him. Always felt the presence of others.
Here, there was only him. Only the climb. Only the quiet.
And if speaking aloud kept the loneliness from swallowing him whole, then so be it.
He stopped for an instant and looked to his right. He was high up. Higher than he had ever been in his life.
"I wonder what that green is over there, far off in the distance. Maybe a door to leave this hell?"
"Huff… huff…"
Even speaking felt heavy. His lungs were already working past their limits, trying to deliver enough air to the muscles that burned with each movement.
Silence had never bothered him before. He used to enjoy it. But here, in this place, it felt wrong. It pressed against him like a weight. He tried to drown it out with words, even if he was speaking to no one, or by dragging old memories out of the fog of his mind.
He did it without thinking. As if his heart knew something he did not. As if it sensed that the wrongness of this land was not just a guess, but a threat. A primitive defense mechanism, born from fear too deep to acknowledge.
He was about to pick another thought to occupy himself with when something changed.
His right hand reached for the next hold and found nothing but a flat surface.
Stone. Level and steady.
He had reached the summit.
"It wasn't that bad. I was scared for nothing…"
He said it aloud, but the truth was far uglier. His body was at its limit. His limbs were numb, long past the point where pain meant anything. His lungs felt ready to collapse from the strain.
His hands were cut open. Blood seeped from thin lines across his skin, marking every slip and desperate grab he had made along the way.
Yet there he stood. At the top.
Just in time, too. After hauling himself over the edge, collapsing, and glaring at the dim star in the sky as if it owed him something, Jermal noticed the twinkling lights beside it.
Night had arrived.
And with night came the nightmare fuel.
The swarm of monsters.