Online In Another World

The tiles of the stygian stone were cold, feeling chilly beneath his uncovered feet as he approached the tall, metal doors of the solemn temple.

Approaching the entrance, his lungs filled with the nebulous air cascading down the structure, finding himself peering at it, unknowing of what he will find beyond the doors before him as he stared at the symbol hanging above. The stone-carving of a four-armed, four-legged man didn't help him to feel at ease, though he knew there was only one way to get past the skin-crawling anxiety building up within him.

I have to push forward, he thought.

Placing his bare palm against the steel doors, he felt the smoothness of the sleek, sable entrance before beginning to push.

To his surprise, the colossal gates parted to his slight push, as if wanting to open for him as they spread apart with a rumble echoing beneath his feet. It didn't take much strength to cause the tall doors to fully open, revealing the interior of the mysterious structure to his eyes.

"...Hmm."

Squinting a bit, he stepped into the opening corridor, finding himself in darkness before suddenly, the entrance slammed shut behind him.

"--Hey!"

He spun around, but just then, the darkness left as torches hanging on both sides of the walls were born with pale-silver flames, granting light inside the sealed-off hall.

"What's the deal here…?" He muttered, staying on guard.

Lining the walls of black stone were paintings, though bleached and devoid of color or any semblance of art; simply blank and lifeless. The only paintings that bore any art on them were even more unsettling: portraits of people without any features to speak of–faceless and inhuman.

It was unnatural; as he walked through the dark corridor, alit only by pale fire, he felt as though the decorations tried to mimic human culture, though it was vapid and devoid of expression.

As if it couldn't get any weirder–just what is this place? He questioned.

Stepping deeper into the corridor, it seemed unnaturally long as after having his attention siphoned by the faux art, he realized he'd been slowly walking for a good bit of time.

Just as he became aware of this, the hallway rapidly shortened itself before his eyes, pulling in the stretch of space before him as he stumbled back, unsure of what was happening in that moment.

"--What the?!" He let out.

As the walls of grime-colored stone stopped stretching, a single door was left in front of the frazzled Dragonheart.

It was pitch-black; the door was of a vantablack shade, darker than anything else, almost as a shadow itself with a reflective, silver handle being clear as day.

"Guess I've got no choice…I really don't want to, but…" He mumbled, reaching his hand out to grasp the door handle.

Turning the handle, the door was pulled open to reveal a perplexing room beyond it: there were four, different colored doors of varying material; three were on the leftmost, rightmost, and forwardmost walls, while the last of which was attached to the ceiling.

…What is all of this? He thought.

The floor changed from stone to dark-brown floorboards; walls remained as stone, with blank paintings hanging from them all the same.

As he walked in, he found a glass stand that held up a peculiar, black cube. Though it was ominous at best, he decided to pick it up, inspecting it carefully as he ran his fingers along its smooth shape.

Odd…He thought.

There were four holes on each side of the cube, each resembling a "lock" that required a specific key. Clearly, he lacked such keys, though he didn't know if it was necessary, considering he had no idea of what the function of the cube was.

However, knowing how he was led here thus far, it was a safe bet to assume he needed whatever the cube possessed.

I'm sick of these games, but…I guess I'll have to play, he thought.

Standing there for a minute, he inspected the room, finding that there were no cabinets or storage spaces that could hold keys, though he did come to another conclusion:

Four keyholes, four doors…If I'm right, I'm about to be led on quite the goose chase, he thought.

For now, he left the cube on the glass stand, weighing his options on which door to check first. The leftmost one caught his eye immediately; it was made out of a bright-red, chalky material. As there was no way of knowing what each doorway led to, it was as good of a start as any as he moved towards it, turning the copper handle before opening it.

A passageway introduced itself; a corridor built of the same, chalky, red material that the door was made out of.

It smelled dusty with a very light, but noticeable scent of cinnamon that came off of the walls.

Stepping into the ominous hall, he found himself wary of its nature; the red walls seemed to slightly curve in an unnatural fashion—tricking him into almost believing his own senses were thrown off.

"…Give me a break," he muttered.

It left him having to walk carefully, finding the corridor naturally moving in a spiral the deeper he went; slightly elevated pieces of the chalky, crimson floor nearly made him trip.

Finding his way to the other side of the corridor, the door that was stationed on the end of it revealed itself to be much smaller than he initially saw it as.

Actually, it didn't even seem like a doorway made for a human, as it was only up to his waist in height.

"What is it, a door for mice?" He whispered to himself.

Kneeling down, he checked out the suspicious, wooden door before grasping the circular handle, spinning it as a "click" resounded with the opening of the small-scale entryway. All he could get was a small peek inside while on his hands and knees, peering into the tiny entrance as he could make out some details of the room beyond.

"...You're kidding me…" He let out tiredly.

It was the same scale as the tiny door; the following room was proportional for a toddler, maybe. Yet, it didn't lack in teensy paintings and antiques that seemed as brittle as a cracker.

Though something caught his eye as he looked around: a tiny, humanoid creature with a rat-like face. It was a peculiar figure, perhaps only as large as his hand, but it held something much more important–a key, held in its arms.

The pitch-black key it held was unmistakable for one of the four he needed, prompting him to reach his arm in, catching the attention of the abnormally small humanoid within.

"I could use that, so hand it over please…" He reasoned.

Though just before his fingertips could so much as graze the cold material of the key, the rat-faced humanoid ran in the opposing direction, scurrying off as fast as its little feet could take it.

"Hey! I need that!" He called out.

It was just as he yelled to the figure that he realized he wasn't going to make any sort of progress by reasoning with it, knowing a chase was in order, though that came with problems of its own; everything was far too cramped and claustrophobic.

Still, he decided to burrow forward if it meant he'd come one step closer to getting answers, and perhaps out of the mysterious realm he found himself in.

Fine, then…! He thought.

Crawling on his hands and knees, he kept his stomach almost touching the chalky floor below as he moved through the tiny room beyond him.

It was uncomfortable to say the least, but an idea came to mind–one he didn't know why he didn't think of sooner as his elbows scraped against the dusty ground.

That's right! I'll just use a spell to snatch it! He decided.

Stopping for a moment, he outstretched his hand, focusing on the key that was as large as a greatsword in the arms of the tiny, rat-like humanoid. He took extra care to focus the spell of wind, making sure not to bring harm to the seemingly frightened individual–

–There! He found his opening.

As he called upon the element of wind to take the key from the fleeing creature, the sensation of mana leaving his fingertips and evolving into manipulation of the air itself, was absent.

"--Huh?" He let out.

Nothing came from his hand; not even a small gust of wind breathed out.

It was like a natural function of his own human anatomy had been disabled; something as crucial and natural as breathing had been cut away.

My magic…isn't working? He thought.

Though there was no interference felt with his mana or any lack of said resource; it seemed as if magic itself wasn't permitted in the tiny space.

Perplexing as it was, there was no way he could just sit there and question why this was happening as if he had all the time in the world–the tiny humanoid was still fleeing all the same.

"Hey…!" He yelled out.

Again, he started crawling on his elbows and knees, further and further into the claustrophobic space.