text: [Themes: grimdark fantasy, fantasy, anti-hero]
  
  The only option is to press on. Katia understood the danger. The book is close to being in your possession. Who knows? Finding the book could bring the secret to finding Katia. As far as you know, she's not dead. No, you came to the Altar to find the book and discover the mystery within. Her closure will be found along with the book.
  
  You can just make out an entryway at the end of the hall. A black hole, rising to the height of the ceiling. No door attached, simply an empty space. Walking more carefully now, bow drawn and arrow nocked, you make your way across the room, a lone man in the center of the room, crossing past circular columns several times thicker than an aged oak trunk.
  
  Evil marks this place. So we'll fit right in. The keep is silent, save for your soft footsteps on the stone floor. Your steps are muffled, intentionally quiet, but each small sound carries throughout the chamber. Something lurks in the shadows. Objects of worth aren't usually kept in the open. Or unprotected. Or unprotected.
  
  What are we going to do with the book? Haven't decided yet. Better decide soon. One step at a time. First, find the book. Our decision only matters after it's found. Best to focus on the present. The future is uncertain. One thing is certain. What's that? Life is fleeting. You pause, the latest thought unlike the others. Since when have you become sentimental? It's not an untrue statement, but it's not without implication. Life is fleeting. What are you going to do about that? What can anyone do about that? First, find the book. Existential thinking can be saved for later.
  
  The entryway takes you into a long and narrow hallway. By now, your eyes have adjusted fairly well to the dark. Small details fade into a formless mist, but other than that, you can make out your surroundings. Torches line the hallway, unlit of course, matching the braziers in the welcoming hall. Once, the keep displayed signs of life. Now it lies cold, dead. Tomblike.
  
  A spiraling staircase greets you at the end of the hallway, winding both up and down, its banister smooth stone carved into the keep. The staircase is wide. Eight could probably walk side-by-side and still have elbow room. The cube doesn't indicate whether the book lies at the top of the keep or the bottom. Its purpose was to lead you here, and that's just what it did.
  
  There could be a vault below, holding the keep's most precious artifact safely guarded away. Then again, whoever ruled here in the past would reside on the higher levels. As the book was likely in their possession, it makes sense to keep it close to them. Your guess is as good as any. Sometimes you find yourself in a seemingly random situation, uninformed on the outcome. It may appear to be a coin toss, but you have past experience to rely on, to guide your action. Make a decision and move on. What else can we do? Weigh the options, then commit. Whether you choose right or wrong, the journey begins by taking a step forward.
  
  > Down
  The book must be deep in the stronghold. In your experience, that's where it'd be. The most secure area lies below ground, guarded and buried. True, the upper levels would have housed the important members along with other artifacts that may catch a thief's eye, but you're not here for precious jewels and gems. Wealth isn't what you're after. You take the staircase downward.
  
  The staircase spirals down, twisting around a central column. You creep, bow in hand, ready to fire upon any appearing threats. It takes a matter of minutes to reach the bottom. You're met with an orange glow peering onto the bottom steps of the staircase, too constant to be traditional firelight. Devil's Altar, the space between twin volcanoes. Realization hits you.
  
  Confirmation accompanies the thought as you reach the bottom step. The staircase opens into a large cavern. Pools of magma fill the space, lighting the area with its red-orange glow. Instead of man-made stone, the floor is rocky. Pillars, like stony icicles, hang from the ceiling, more than a few creating their inverse from the floor. Besides the magma pools and rock pillars, one other thing sits in the cavern, resting comfortably, quiet: a stone pedestal with a black book sitting on top. The book. You've found it.
  
  Even though you're still quite a distance away, the book itself doesn't look like the kind men would kill for. If anything, it seems rather plain. Its cover is pure black as expected, but it's void of markings or inscriptions. You expected something to signify its worth. Also, it doesn't hold many pages. You've seen many religious texts with more content. As long as it contains the power Richter spoke about, it doesn't matter what it looks like.
  
  You confidently stride towards it. Everything you've struggled for is finally within your reach. The long journey to Devil's Altar, physically taxing it was, memories of your former past appearing with more frequency—it'll all be worth it soon. You pass by the rocky pillars, rows of stony pews leading towards the sacred text.
  
  Suddenly, the distinct click of a floor switch rings into the cavern. What did you get us into? Richter was the one who checked for traps. And you didn't think to check? We didn't notice it. The ground softly rumbles beneath you. More mechanisms locking into place, shifting gears. Your foot still remains on top of the pressure plate.
  
  > leave your foot where it is
  Whatever is happening underground beneath you, one thing's for certain: taking your foot off the pressure plate is a sure way to die. Foot-spring traps tend to have that effect once pressure is relieved. You remain in place, senses high, scanning for threats.
  
  Movement. The pillars of rock from both the floor and ceiling burst open, sending shards of stone into the air in a small show of fireworks. Still keeping your foot on the plate, you cover your arms in front of your face, dropping your bow in the process. Heavy shrapnel showers on top of you, the sharp sides tearing into your exposed skin.
  
  Looming over you, a dark shadow builds, a large section of stone falls directly where you stand. Given no choice, you dive to your left to avoid being crushed completely. Through the explosion of rock, another distinct click rings.
  
  The pools of magma that light the cavern start to bubble, growing larger, threatening to overflow. You try your best to dodge the rain, but more stone lands upon your body, deadening your limbs. One large piece lands squarely to your head, dropping you to the floor. Dazed, you look towards the book one final time, a thing of evil, a thing of promises.
  
  The entire cavern collapsing on itself, magma flowing towards your fallen body, you accept your inevitable death. Finally, peace.