He trembled.
Fear gripped him—his hands shook as adrenaline surged through his veins.
He could feel it.
He stayed still.
The world held its breath.
Then a sudden whistle sliced through the dawn air.
Thwack!
An arrow struck the snake cleanly through the head.
Tony gasped and stumbled backward. His pulse spiked, heart hammering in his chest.
He turned and ran, breath ragged, away from the tree, away from death.
"Who... who did that?" he called out, voice echoing through the trees.
No answer. He searched the area—nothing. Whoever saved him was already gone… or didn't want to be found.
This place was dangerous.
He knew that now more than ever.
With renewed urgency, he pressed forward, tightening his grip on the Codex.
He journeyed beyond the clearing, stepping into another phase of wilderness.
Through winding valleys, up craggy cliffs, he climbed—fueled by instinct and desperation.
Eventually, the terrain opened before him.
There it was.
A towering cave, mouth dark and yawning, etched with ancient markings.
The glowing glyphs on his Codex matched perfectly.
The Tomb of Zabiida.
Curiosity surged in him like fire. Whatever lay inside—fame, power, maybe even answers—he had to know.
Unaware of the ancient danger pulsing through its entrance, Tony stepped forward, full of confidence, unaware.
He didn't know this was the Cave of the Dead.
But he would find out soon. It felt… strange.
The chamber was shaped like a perfect square, unnaturally symmetrical for something so ancient.
Tony stepped forward slowly, his boots echoing softly against the cold stone. Ahead, in the dim light of the cave, an altar emerged—bronze, worn, and inscribed with markings that pulsed faintly with a soft blue hue.
Strange writings curled across its surface like living vines.
"I think I've got a translator," Tony muttered, reaching instinctively into his saddlebag.
His hand brushed scrolls, map, the traveler's time clock… but not the one thing he desperately needed.
The Prism.
He froze. Searched again, faster this time.
"It was right here," he whispered, panicking. "Right here…"
His heart pounded.
He emptied the bag onto the cave floor. Nothing.
The Prism of Life was gone.
How? When?
He scrambled through memories, every step from the snake encounter to now—but there was no moment it should've slipped away.
Yet it had.
He bolted from the cave, his mind racing. He had just lost one of the most powerful artifacts he possessed. He had to get it back.
Fast.
Using the Codex map, he retraced his path, winding through trees and broken trails, eyes scanning every inch of ground. The forest around him felt darker now, more aware.
He approached the tree—the same one from before. His breath caught.
A glint.
Something flashed near the roots.
He froze. A shadow moved—slow, humanoid, slipping from the brush like smoke.
Tony crouched, silent, eyes locked on the spot.
Then… nothing.
He stepped forward.
The place looked abandoned. The snake's corpse? Gone. Just a dark smear of dried blood on the leaves.
He stayed alert, searching.
From behind him, a soft footstep rustled through the leaves. Tony turned sharply.
There she stood—a young woman, radiant in the fading light. Her presence was like a calm storm: composed, powerful, and utterly captivating. A slender sword rested at her thigh—polished, fast, ready—but it was the long bow slung gracefully across her back that caught his breath.
The same bow that had saved his life.
She was a warrior, but not the kind that stormed gates. She was the kind that stood strong when others faltered. Graceful. Fearless. Lovely.
The sunlight dappled across her face, catching the strands of her chestnut hair as she held up the prism of life, its colors dancing over her fingers like starlight.
"You looking for this?" she asked, voice smooth as flowing silk with a spark of playfulness in her tone.
Tony's heart skipped. "That was... fast," he muttered under his breath.
"Yeah," she said, eyes gleaming.
He swallowed. "So, can I please have it?"
She tilted her head slightly, not threatening—just curious. "Hmm... I saved you once from that snake, and now I've found your prism. What do I get in return?"
Tony thought fast. "Uh... I give you friendship."
She raised an amused brow. "Friendship?"
"Yeah. To me, it's more precious than minerals."
Her expression softened as she stepped closer, boots brushing the grass, sword swaying lightly with her stride. "Do you have friends?"
"I do."
"Then why come back for the prism? You can go to them then." Her voice was gentle, thoughtful. "Are precious objects more important than people now?"
Tony gave a shaky laugh. "No, no! I didn't mean it that way, girl."
She smiled—a warm, sincere smile that lit up her face. "So... friends, right?"
"Yeah. Sure, Friends."
She offered him the prism. As his hand met hers, her fingers brushed against his—steady, warm, reassuring.
In that moment, Tony knew: she wasn't just a warrior or a stranger. She was something different. A companion fate had placed on his path.