The Flower Is Finished

We continued swimming side by side, keeping just enough distance to avoid colliding with one another while still monitoring each other's movements. The darkness around us was absolute—no light seeped in, no reflection shimmered on the surface of the water. It felt as if the chamber itself was swallowing us whole, erasing direction, time, and certainty.

Every stroke had to be calculated. Panic would only waste energy, and energy was something we could no longer afford to lose.

Swimming without a clear destination was never a choice—it was surrender. Yet right now, it was the only option left to us.

Ten minutes passed. My lungs burned faintly, and I forced myself to slow my breathing, counting each inhale and exhale. Still no sign of an exit. Worse, the water level continued to rise, creeping higher along the stone walls, steadily reducing the space above us.

"Do you think… the water flow is increasing?" Farrel asked, his voice tight with unease.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's definitely increasing."

I scanned the chamber again. It was far larger than the previous corridor—wide enough to swallow dozens of soldiers whole. Yet in such a short time, the water had already filled nearly half of it.

"This is insane," Farrel muttered.

"The rate is abnormal," I said quietly. "If it keeps increasing like this, this place will turn into a liquid grave."

Farrel turned toward me sharply. "Since when do you know how to calculate things like that?"

I clicked my tongue in irritation. "Forget it."

Then I added, more firmly, "We need to find an exit. Now. If we don't, we won't last much longer."

I looked around again, forcing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. No statues. No carvings. No corridors branching off. Just cold stone walls that seemed deliberately empty, as if designed to mislead anyone trapped inside.

"You closed the door behind us properly, right?" I asked.

Farrel nodded without hesitation. "Tightly."

"Then the water isn't coming from there."

I paused, thinking quickly.

"Stay here," I ordered. "Don't move."

Before he could argue, I dove away from him, heading back toward the steel door we had passed earlier. I swam downward, feeling along the walls and floor, my fingers brushing over slick stone. No cracks. No visible seams.

Then—there it was.

A faint pressure pushed against my palm.

A current.

"There has to be a channel," I muttered under my breath.

I dove deeper, forcing myself to ignore the burning in my chest. In the far corner of the chamber, hidden in shadow, I found it—a concealed water channel pouring into the room with relentless force.

My lungs screamed for air. I surfaced briefly and looked back toward Farrel. He raised a hand, waving weakly to show he was still conscious.

I dove again.

"If this keeps going, we're done," I thought grimly.

There was no other choice.

One by one, I removed my armor. The heavy metal dragged itself to the bottom as I let it sink, piece after piece. When only a thin layer of cloth remained, I tore it apart without hesitation, twisting and rolling the fabric tightly into a crude bundle.

I pressed it against the channel.

The force nearly pushed me away.

Gritting my teeth, I shoved harder, using my entire body to force the cloth deeper into the opening.

"Don't come loose," I prayed silently. "Just hold."

Slowly—agonizingly—the pressure weakened. The water still flowed, but no longer with the same deadly force.

I surfaced, gasping for air.

Relief barely had time to settle before panic struck.

Farrel was gone.

My heart dropped.

Without thinking, I dove again, scanning the murky water until I spotted him drifting downward, his movements sluggish, his body dangerously still.

"No—"

I grabbed his clothing and dragged him upward with everything I had. He didn't resist. He didn't respond.

He was unconscious.

I hauled him onto a section of stone that had begun to emerge as the water level dropped. His skin was cold, his lips tinged pale.

"Farrel!" I slapped his cheek. "Don't you dare fall asleep!"

No response.

I pressed my hands against his chest and began compressions.

"Thud. Thud. Thud."

Again and again. Hard. Precise. Relentless.

My arms burned, but I didn't stop.

Then—

"Ghuk—khak!"

Water burst from his mouth as his body convulsed. He sucked in air violently, coughing and gasping.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Are we… dead?" he croaked weakly.

I almost hit him. Almost.

"Not yet," I said flatly. "And don't make me regret saving you."

He gave a weak laugh, then winced. "My chest feels like it's been crushed."

"That means you're alive."

The water continued draining slowly, no longer filling the chamber.

"You found it," he said.

I nodded.

His gaze dropped, then narrowed. "Where's your armor?"

I pointed toward the corner where it lay submerged. "Sacrificed."

He shook his head with a faint smile. "You're completely insane."

"Let's move," I said. "This place isn't finished with us yet."

We walked forward as the chamber revealed more of itself. It was enormous—empty, silent, and unnervingly symmetrical, as though waiting for something to happen.

At the end of the path stood two doors, side by side.

I stopped instantly.

Something about them felt wrong.

Strange markings were carved across their surfaces. Not decorative. Purposeful.

I had seen them before—somewhere—but the memory refused to fully surface.

"Have you seen this before?" Farrel asked, stepping closer.

"I have," I answered slowly.

He lit a small flame, bathing the doors in flickering light. The carvings sharpened into focus, and my stomach tightened.

This wasn't decoration.

This was a test.

A trap.

Farrel looked at me, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "What does it mean?"

I didn't answer immediately. My mind raced, recalling fragments of lessons, warnings, and bloodstained mistakes.

One door was the path forward.

The other was death.

If we chose wrong, the castle would claim us just like it had claimed so many others.

I stared at the doors, the silence pressing down on me harder than the water ever had.

"We only get one chance," I finally said.

Farrel nodded, all humor gone.

I stepped forward.

And for the first time since entering this cursed place, my confidence wavered.

I remained standing, staring at the door.

My hand tried to grasp it, but the moment I touched it, dizziness overwhelmed me.

My head throbbed violently.

I saw a shadow—one I did not know—continuously appearing inside my mind.

"Xander…"

I heard someone calling my name, yet I could not stop this pain.