So then, why does the robin move and eat? Of course, to survive, and to live.

This is just what the beasts of the world do, whether it be by nature, or because they were designed that way.

However, “people”—they do not deign to count themselves amongst beasts. Unbound by such base rules, they aspire to create meaning. They divine purpose.

If there were a formal decider of meaning, it would be interesting to ask what he or she thinks of this.

But such a being does not exist; can not exist, I would venture. The closest we could have is God—I mean, a god. Ask a god, though, and they would only be able to answer relative to their own personal ‘meaning’.

One should wonder, what ‘meaning’ would a god find in their existence? Whatever it might be, I venture that it involves us peoples.

Why? To put it one way… That answer is something that is trapped within my head. To know it, all you can do is hope to one day see inside.

The fire spread quickly as it engulfed the green vines, unstoppable even by the wet stone and dripping ceiling. Cris helped me to a junction, and to the left, flames were already crawling along the floor towards us. Some of the poppies popped violently as they were engulfed. With this, the end would come soon, whether it was escape or death.

We hobbled down the right corridor as quickly as possible, followed by the taunting thickening of black smoke. In the rooms we passed by, there was nothing that seemed useful—only debris and junk, covered by the growth.

Our movement was too slow. At this rate, the inferno would catch up to us, and Cris would get caught up in it too. There was no need for her to stay with me at this rate. Maybe she could at least get away by herself.

“Right here,” I said to Cris as we reached another junction. She hesitated, but did as I suggested. I was fairly certain that to the left was a path that led back to where Karl and Varus would be. Not that my impression of the floor’s layout should be trusted…

I wanted to tell Cris to go ahead by herself. The fire behind us travelled forward like the spray from a flooding river surging into untouched lands. It followed at a steady striding pace. I should have been able to tell Cris that it was pointless to stay with me.

However, I wasn’t able to. I didn’t feel especially afraid, but without Cris, I would fall to the ground and be consumed by the flames. So I couldn’t tell her to ditch me. I was unable to even satisfy my own will.

“Hey, Cris,” I said to her.

Maybe I only wanted to play a mock hero, and say and do what someone with courage would. Even so, it was what I wanted to do. Was that so bad?

“The flames are catching up…” I said.

I was forced to realize that people aren’t creatures who can grant their own wishes. If only Cris would make the decision on her own, and run ahead.

“…” She stopped in the middle of a desolate corridor. The crackling of fire was loud enough to be a nuisance now.

Adopting a bracing stance, Cris lowered her body and tensed her knees, and aimed a palm at the encroaching wall of licking yellow. A few moments later, a hefty blast of pressure exploded from her palm. The air distorted as the black smoke was blown back, and the flames were pushed aside by what looked like a swirling invisible ball.

The wall hesitated for a second, then red, angry fire swallowed the hole back up. Nothing had changed.

Cris sighed. “It would be nice if I had learned to conjure up water or something.” She looked between me and the end of the corridor, still shrouded in darkness.

Please, just go, I thought. Even if I couldn’t say it, I could at least beg for it in my mind. But even as the heat became uncomfortable, she just fidgeted on the spot.

“You’re too kind, to a stranger,” I managed to say.

She tried to laugh, but thought instead, then said, “Maybe. But, hmmm… If I leave now, I’ll be leaving behind something more than just a girl named Syco. And knowing that makes me a little unmotivated.”

I was about to ask what she meant, but the rustling of vines near our feet caught me off guard. Then, a heavy impact hit me in the stomach. The pain instantly darkened my vision, and it was all I could do to not black out. I felt myself being picked up and rushed away, and from somewhere behind me, Cris shouted out my name.

Not that I could struggle anyway, but whatever had happened, I was being carried away from the flames. I could faintly see Cris chasing after me as I flew through the air. Then, in some dark corner, I was thrown. When I realized that the floor had yet to meet me, I cradled my head in my arms and curled up as best I could. Fortunate, since the next moment, my skull would have smacked into the exposed edge of a stair.

I tumbled down a staircase, hoping that the vines would protect me somewhat. Ironic.

I regained consciousness, now with my entire body emanating dull pain. Somehow I wasn’t surprised that Cris was already with me, checking my wounds.

“I’m in your debt again,” I said self-derisively. “It’s not fair. You’re too reliable. I’m starting to think nothing can kill me if you’re around.”

“You’re the only one in the world who would say that,” she replied.

She helped me to sit up against a wall, and the surroundings immediately gave me pause. The staircase to the right extended dozens upon dozens of steps upwards, and at the top, the fire was still clearly raging. To the left, the hallway opened up into a vast void. I could see a couple large pillars, but beyond that, the vines thickened even more and disappeared into the dark.

“The vines… look at them,” Cris whispered. The vines at the base of the stairs, on closer inspection, were wriggling like thick, fattened worms. Or rather like centipedes, as they used the thin stalks that grew along themselves to squirm forward. It wasn’t just at the base of the stairs—the vines along the ceiling and the walls were also wriggling towards and up the stairs. The room itself felt as though it was shifting without us.

“Cris, just to be sure. Do plants usually do this?” I asked. Cris shook her head. “No, they’re vines, they can’t see or sense light or heat, they have nothing like eyes, but if they have nerves then perhaps they could sense certain changes around them, are they like jellyfish then? The pressure of the air triggers something, …” She trailed off as she hurriedly mumbled theories to herself. Of course, even I could tell that this was unnatural. So what was happening? It might make sense if the vines were escaping for their lives through some unknown natural reaction, but in this case, were the vines feeding themselves into the fire? It didn’t follow any known logic of the natural world.

“At least the flames aren’t coming any closer,” Cris said. “Either there’s a gap at the top, giving them no fuel to burn, or they’re extruding water or some other substance to hold it back… D-Do you mind if I go look?”

She looked oddly excited. Sure, it was interesting, I could understand. But right now?

“Just kidding. We can always come back and check,” Cris sighed. I thought she’d have to be mad to ever return here, but I kept it to myself.

“I’m more concerned about how I managed to fly through the air,” I said. Cris just shrugged, and then helped me to my feet. So that didn’t interest her? I thought I was beginning to get her, but that feeling kept slipping away.

With only one way we could go, we slowly crept into the giant hall away from the loitering fire. If this was a dead end, it could very well be a dead end for us as well. We both understood. Cris shone a light across the walls as we advanced further in; the ceiling contained a large inset dome high above us, which seemed to be carved all over with complex patterns and symbols, though there were thick cracks running through them. The vines reached even up there, and the ground coverage grew thicker and thicker, until we were walking a good foot above where the stone floor would be, crunching layers of vines and poppies beneath our feet.

Without any warning, Cris collapsed to the side.

“Cris, are you okay?!” I quickly pulled her back up, fearing that the vines would engulf her.

“Y-Yeah,” she said. “I’m just feeling disorientated. Did I fall over?”

We weren’t even halfway across the hall, but given its structure, I guessed that there was surely another door at the far end. Despite how deep we were, I could again faintly hear the sound of a heavy downpour and running water.

“C’mon, not much further,” I said. I mustered my strength and ignored the aches as I allowed Cris to lean on my shoulder as she stood up.

“Let’s go back and follow the wall, the vines are thinner there,” I suggested. Cris wearily nodded. She must have been exhausted, and it was catching up with her. Or it was just the effect of the poppies. However, my mind was clearly in better shape than hers. Why was that?

“You know,” Cris mumbled. “Dying here is fine. At least I won’t die in the village…”

“You won’t die here,” I said. This was the worst time for Cris to suddenly lose strength. I remembered that she hadn’t eaten since we had gotten trapped. Could that be the cause? Her bag was still on her.

“A life I don’t understand, in a place I don’t understand. Hehe, it’s perfect,” she laughed, but it was delirious. I couldn’t think with my feet sinking into the damn vines. With my arm around Cris, I turned to guide her towards the wall. However, as I did so, a chorus of hideous sounds resounded about the hall. The origin was directly behind us.

I was too slow to do anything. A petrified stake appeared where Cris had just been, sending her flying forwards and slewing a vile gush of blood over the entire scene. The light girl tumbled towards the wall like a rag doll. Blood splattered over the walls and dyed the vines red. The only light I had was extinguished.

Behind me spoke a voice riddled with harsh grating friction. It sounded like all the worst parts of nature—the poisonous, the parasitical, the painful—had formed a mouth and commanded words.

But it spoke nothing human.