Meager Power

The hardest part of our climb wasn't actually the fights we encountered. Sure, we were minorly injured still, but honestly, with our growing coordination and experience, the boney boys we fought along the way really didn't bother us that badly.

I'm not sure how long we spent waiting for our rapid healing to get us to fighting shape. If there was one thing I really missed, it was having a phone or a watch or something to know the time. It was suddenly impossible to know if we sat there for fifteen minutes, or an hour, especially without the sun to guide our temporal senses. Inside the broken down stable, all we had was just the general vibe that it had been probably more than half an hour, probably less than two. Our conversation had stalled after declaring our alliance, mostly from weariness. Adrenaline wearing off, pain re-accompanying our bodies, and overall a spot of low emotion after that genuine moment. My hip eventually felt good enough to stand on my own, and Rachel was well enough to swing her sword through the air with just a few winces here or there. I tested a Dash and found that it hurt, but not so much that I couldn't function afterward.

Neither of us had wanted to stay there long, remembering how the mine had gotten much more dangerous after the last time we'd spent too long inside the labyrinth. Our current trip was already well into its second day, and it's also not like we had unlimited resources. Water was starting to run low, and only a couple pieces of jerky were left for us to chew on. The promise of progress along with the fear of growing danger propelled us onward into the space ahead.

Stairs, unfortunately, abounded. We were absolutely going up and up and up, toward the building at the top of this rocky mesa. And they were harsh on us, very much so. Though I was improving, the upward stepping definitely was delaying my recovery, and it was also exhausting. Atop the first flight of stairs we'd come across an armory, filled to the brim with rusty, broken weapons. I'd looked longingly at a weighty metal spear, solid in both shaft and tip, but the sheer amount of rust on the thing guaranteed the need for a tetanus shot that would definitely not be forthcoming, and it was far too heavy for my poor facsimile of strength. Maybe one day, sure, but right now, even though I was in good shape, I didn't have the muscle mass to handle something like that. No matter how much I wanted to.

The second and third flights of stairs were longer than the first, and both had terminated in battles against more skeletons. The first fight was against four of the normal ones, and we took care of them with little trouble. I ended up only using one Spark the entire fight, so we determined it would be advantageous to continue as we were. The next one was against an oversized elite, but even then, it was pretty easy. Honestly, with both of us specced for one-on-one fights, the fact that this was a two-on-one made it absurdly easy. It was strong, and fast, of course, but with Rachel's ability to lock opponents down and my ability to hover into blind spots and hit from advantageous places had been too much for a simple opponent. Perhaps if it had been more powerful, or more skilled, or more intelligent, it might have been a challenge, but whatever force animated these undead grays did not bestow them with much of a brain.

Again, our greatest foe was stairs. The climb was exhausting, and if my sense of direction worked like I thought it did, even on the z-axis, we were going up and up, further than should be possible. The mesa had been tall, but not this ridiculous amount. Our moods fouled and we stopped chatting between trips, and by the ninth flight of stairs, I was audibly growling and sighing in frustration as we padded upward. Endurance and Mana might be their own special stat categories, but at the moment, they had nothing on the lactic acid raging through my legs. It hurt worse than my damn hip did, and it still wasn't fully better due to the constant motion we were forced to endure.

A full minute of slow ascent up the stairs terminated in a short little landing which led to, predictably, another set of fucking stairs. At least there was no welcoming committee here to give us the what-for with bone and danger. As we hit the top, I held my arm out at Rachel, huffing and puffing like crazy.

"Rachel, we gotta stop. I can't do another flight. I have to rest."

"Allison, if you stop now," she heaved, having difficulties of her own, "you will be unable to continue afterward. Do not sit down. Drink your water."

I mumbled out a few expletives at her, not loud enough for her to hear, but out loud enough that it made me fell slightly better. It wasn't very fair to blame her, though. She was right. I'd done tough exercises and such, long term things like different sports when I was younger, and the only way to beat it was to go through it. But I felt awful and I didn't wanna. I bit my tongue between my teeth to force myself to not hit her with those exact words. A few breaths, in through the mouth, out through the nose. A swig of water, then two, but no more. I scrunched my eyes together and nodded at her. "Yeah. I know. Sorry. It's just, the combination... pain, out of practice, and we should fucking be there by now."

Honestly, she didn't really look any better than me. I had my bags and such, but she also had her things, as well as the shield she refused to unequip. Rachel stared a moment, took a gulp of her own water, and let out a huge sigh. "Yes. But every piece of this place has been a challenge, and we must rise to this one as well. Endurance, constitution, resolve."

"Ugh. Okay, maybe not sit, but we should just walk around for a minute. If we keep going and there's a fight next up, we're gonna be in a bad way. I can fling myself around with Dash, but I need good footing to take advantage of it and not just crash to the ground.

Rachel nodded, and paced around. Unfortunately, we did need to conserve our voices. Our energy. Our everything. At first, it'd seemed like reaching this place had been an absolute win, but damn, it was turning into a torture chamber. No way, no how did I want to know who thought this place was a good idea. If the labyrinth was somehow some sort of sentient subject, well, some sap was gonna get slapped silly. Okay, that's a lie, I wanted to talk to the manager and tell them how much I fucking hated their guts. After a bit of waiting, we proceeded up the stairs again, legs burning, hearts a-fury, teeth a-gnashing. For fuck's sake, we'd just come from such a triumphant moment, and now we'd spent... hours? Fuck, I missed having a time piece. We'd spent hours doing rote, ridiculous, dumb, frustrating, stepping.

To put it simply, I was a jumbled pile of angry.

Ten flights became twelve, became fifteen, became twenty. I was leaning on my spear more than using my legs, and I'm not sure I'd had a coherent thought in a while. The only reason I knew how many stairways we'd traversed was because I was loudly announcing them after each one, uncaring if I was giving our position away. The labyrinth faded away in my mind, the skeletons little more than a wary memory, and our destination a thing of legends. The stairs, the stairs, they went on and on.

After twenty-four, I hit my limit. I raised my leg to get on the twenty-fifth stairway, but It refused to budge. I blinked, my head coming back into focus, staring down at the slight risen part of the floor in front of me.

"Move," I said to my unwilling leg. It simply stayed there, like a petulant child, not responding to my will, nor my command. "Move, damnit. We're not done." I attempted to push myself up using my spear as leverage, but instead, I dropped it out of noodly arms and I rapidly descended to the stone floor. I didn't land on my head, thank god, but it was a rough landing, half assisted and half sabotoged by the stairs next to me. "Ow," I let out. Oh, I meant thank goddess. Right.

My eyes refocused - again - and found Rachel leaning against the wall, staring at me. Staring through me. She was just as exhausted as I was, maybe more. She was in better shape than me but these ascents were not meant for mortal bodies to use. Was there a puzzle we had missed? Some sign? The hallways between the stairways had compressed into simple passages, cut stone sides and an arched ceiling that was maybe three meters high, but no markings anywhere. Was this a puzzle? A special challenge?

"Are you well?" Rachel's voice sounded out towards me, ringing a bit hollow. I just nodded in response.

"The fall didn't hurt. But. Um. I can't get up." I lifted a shaking arm, realizing I had been overutilizing those muscles too, leaning on my weapon more and more as the time had passed. "I don't think it's a question of 'should' we rest anymore, Rachel. Miss Wilson, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that I stay the fuck down right now."

Her stare focused, the light coming back to her eyes. We held each others' gaze for a breath, then three, then I lost track, but eventually, she blinked. Man, she must be good at staring contests.

"Fuck," she stated with finality, then reached up, ripped off her shield and tossed it to the ground. I watched in amazement as she dropped her things with a complete lack of imperiousness and slumped to the floor, almost like a cat. "Fuck," she repeated, when she got to her sitting position against a wall.

"You good?" I asked, though obviously she wasn't. By the shake of her head, that feeling was immediately vindicated.

"No. I am tired. I am worn. I could have gone on a little longer but it is useless if I am the only one to progress." Rachel closed her eyes. "I am infuriated by this, but I am too tired to object to it. I want to reject it, I want to lash out, but we have not seen a single foe in a dozen floors. So I will sit here, until we get our feet back under us." She reopened one brown eye to stare at me. "It will hurt."

"I know," I said sullenly. "I've dealt with day-after muscle pain before, and having to fight through it. But it's different. The soreness, the stiffness, that's not this. I'm just too exhausted." I motioned at my legs with shaking arms. "I'm jelly right now. Fuck. We need to eat." I grabbed the bag next to me, and shoveled through the various extra pieces of cloth to get at the remainder of my jerky; four big pieces left. "How much you got?"

Rachel reached into her own bags and produced three commensurate pieces, and idly nodded. Not at me, no, but just nodded in general. "We eat these, we rest, and we move. No sleeping."

A laugh escaped me at that. "Girl, I hurt way too much for sleep." But we did so. We nibbled at our food, careful not to overeat while so worn, and waited for a while. I hoped that whatever force was healing us would apply to this as well, and though I suspected it did, without a timer or watch, there was no way to really know. Of course, we both broke the sleeping promise. At some point, I stirred awake and could move enough to take care of my business further down. Extra stairs didn't excite me, but it was better than leaving a mess where we were going to be walking once ready. I judged it safe enough, so returned to rest.

Eventually we both woke, sore, tired, irritated, but not nearly so debilitated. Neither of us said much, just hydrated with a little of our remaining water supplies, and continued our journey.

Twenty-five. Twenty-seven. Thirty. Finally, after thirty-three flights of stairs, we'd made it. I recognized the doorway, haughty, proud, old, stark against the wall. It was in a different spot, obviously, but it was the same doorway I'd seen and gone through when I first set foot into the labyrinth. Though I hadn't been sure before, I was now. Beyond that portal lay a foe I'd been dreading and anticipating, the Blutwild Berserker in all its dangerous glory. I sighed and settled myself. Mutual understanding had us take a long, standing break at the threshold, not opening it, but not completely powering down either. We wouldn't be going into this perfectly rested, but we would be going through with purpose, intent, ready for the danger.

Was this murder, like I had considered before? I didn't know. Maybe. Maybe not. But here we were, and I was too tired to worry about moral conjectures anymore. We had a job to do, which was get strong and win. I'd trade some words, maybe confirm that its intent was to kill us, but no matter what, we were going to finish this thing.

A wordless signal went between us eventually, and we prepared ourselves for the conflict. I cracked my knuckles and Rachel braced herself, and slowly, firmly, opened the door.