Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 105: Once a kingdom

The jungle had grown quieter as the day stretched on, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. No birdsong. No rustle of monkeys in the canopies. Just the soft thud of boots and bare feet against damp earth, the occasional snap of a branch underfoot. The air was heavy, thicker than usual, and hotter—suffocating almost, like the very world around them was trying to choke their courage from their lungs.

It was the third day.

The two native guides, usually composed and wordless in their duty, had started to falter. The older one had slowed, his grip on the machete tightening until his knuckles whitened. The younger kept glancing over his shoulder, eyes darting between the dark trees, as if he expected something to lunge out from the shadows.

They’d made camp only once the older one stopped dead in his tracks and raised a hand, his breath coming faster now.

Von moved to him, speaking in low tones, but the guide didn’t wait for translation this time. He turned, looked directly at Liam with a face full of something Liam hadn’t seen in any of them before—not even back in the village when the fire blazed on the altar and the priest’s body turned to smoke.

This was fear.

Real, raw, and desperate. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The man spoke quickly, his voice sharp, urgent.

Von, standing just behind him, hesitated before turning to Liam. "He says..." Von cleared his throat, glancing at the younger guide who had already stepped back several paces, sweat shining on his skin. "He says we’re less than a mile now. Maybe less. And they won’t go further."

Liam frowned, but Von went on.

"He says... they should not be here. That they have trespassed too far already. The ruin is cursed. The gods there—" he faltered, then corrected himself, "—the things that live in there...they are not meant to be seen. He begs you to turn back. Says we should turn back now while we still can."

The group had gathered slowly behind Liam, listening. Marcus crossed his arms, jaw clenched. Eleanor didn’t say a word, just watched the guides with narrowed eyes. Jason lowered his staff slightly, brow furrowed, while Sophia stood beside him, silent, her hand tightening around her quiver.

Mariel was near the back, but Liam could feel her watching him.

He didn’t look at her.

Instead, he stepped forward, locking eyes with the older native. The man didn’t lower his gaze like before. He just stood there, breathing hard, his fear holding him upright like a thread about to snap.

Liam spoke clearly, voice low but certain.

"Tell them," he said to Von, "that we didn’t come this far just to turn around."

Von didn’t hesitate this time. He relayed the words.

The older guide said nothing, just lowered his eyes and took a step back. The younger one sat down on a fallen log, buried his face in his hands. There was no more argument. No more pleading.

But the fear didn’t fade.

Liam looked past them, into the green ahead, where the trees grew thicker and darker, their branches clawing toward the sky like twisted fingers. He could feel it, even from here.

The ruin was close.

Too close to turn back. Too late for doubts.

And whatever waited inside... they’d soon have to face it.

Borik crouched slowly, the weight of the moment resting heavy in his shoulders. From a leather tube strapped to his back, he drew out a long, rolled-up parchment, sealed in cracked wax and stained with time. He unrolled it gently on the jungle floor. The edges curled with age, and the ink had faded in places, but the details were still clear enough to catch everyone’s attention.

The group moved closer without a word. Liam stood opposite Borik, arms folded. Jason was already kneeling beside the map, tracing the strange symbols with a finger. Eleanor crouched next to him, eyes narrowing at the outlines. Marcus hovered behind them, pacing slowly, axe slung across his back, and Sophia stood with her arms crossed, bow on her shoulder, watching it all with a skeptical frown. Even Mariel came near, though she kept her distance from Liam.

The parchment was no ordinary map. It wasn’t a topography or trail. It was something far more ancient—etched with an almost ceremonial reverence. Buildings, gates, winding roads... all drawn in a spiraling, concentric design that pulsed inward toward a broken symbol at the center. A city. A dead one.

"It wasn’t always ruins," Borik began, his voice unusually calm, almost soft as if he were afraid of waking something. "Once, this place was a kingdom. Towering walls, a palace in the heart, and people... thousands of them. But they tampered with something. Something that should have been left untouched. The deeper they dug, the more power they found, until it consumed them. Not in flame or war... but from within."

He tapped the center of the scroll. "The palace still stands—barely. Beneath it lie the tombs. A labyrinth of ancient kings, sorcerers, and high priests. The ones who ruled the city... and locked their power beneath the earth before it was their undoing."

Jason looked up, eyes wide. "Tombs?"

Borik nodded. "With traps. Tests. Curses. They say three trials guard the path to the chamber where the true power sleeps. Not just magic or relics—but dominion. The kind that can bend Elysium itself to the will of the bearer."

That’s when Liam spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Cut the crap, Borik," he said, stepping forward. "I don’t need fairy tales. I want to know exactly what the hell you’re after. What is it? A weapon? A crown? A throne?"

Borik met his gaze, unflinching. "You think I’d drag us through jungles, across the ocean and risk our lives over a throne?" He looked down, ran a hand through his beard. "This isn’t about greed. Or power. It’s about survival. You wouldn’t understand yet, Liam. But this world... it’s more fragile than you think."

"That’s not an answer," Eleanor said coldly.

Borik sighed. "I am telling you. All of you. The truth. And the truth is... no one has ever come back from these trials. Not one. The records stop. The scouts vanish. But the scrolls say it still waits... beneath the stone, beneath the dust. The power to rule Elysium. Not just a city. The entire world."

Marcus scoffed loudly, throwing his hands up. "Madness. Pure fucking madness. You drag us through all this, nearly get us killed by jungle freaks, keep secrets, and now you say we’re supposed to walk into some death trap for a fairy tale buried in a tomb?"

"I didn’t make the choice alone," Borik said. "The dwarf clan chose it, the Elves too. Sera is aware, She knows the stakes. I gave you the chance to turn away."

"You bound Marcus to her!" Eleanor snapped. "He can’t turn away!"

Jason muttered something under his breath and shook his head. Sophia bit her lip and looked away. No one seemed to know what to say next.

Liam said nothing.

He just stared down at the scroll, his jaw tight, eyes unmoving, as if trying to see through the lines into the truth hidden beneath them. The map didn’t lie, but it didn’t speak either. The palace. The tombs. The trials. The promise of power. The certainty of death.

And in the back of his mind, a whisper: This isn’t a game.

It never had been.