Sorry for the delay, was stuck without a computer to work with. Looks like B has it.
Chapter 4.8: Power
The choice was simple. You picked up the thread and threw yourself at the Minotaur to prevent it from smashing Theseus into pulp. Darting in between the mindless, brutal attacks of the beast, you harry it with quick slashes that are meant only to get its attention. You know that striking hard at your current strength wouldn’t be sufficient, and would only serve to slow you down enough for the Minotaur to actually hit you once – which is all it needed. Your muscles were already groaning from the effort of constantly leaping about, however, and you don’t know how long you could keep it up. It was only a matter of time before that axe split you apart. Theseus, regaining his breath, looks around the chamber.
“Runi!” he yells. “Lead it to the passageway right behind you. The traps! Use the traps!”
The trapped corridors. You take one last swing at the Minotaur, and begin backing away swiftly. As expected, the dumb brute comes after you. You move into the corridor, watching your step. So did the Minotaur. You gawk. It appears to be able to see where the trapped stones are, and steps around them with lumbering strides. The corridor wasn’t narrow enough that it couldn’t continue attacking, and you realize that the confined space allowed you even less space to dodge its attacks. It didn’t need to move much to generate enough force to pulverize you. You duck another powerful slash, and reply with a quick cut across its wrist. Just then, your luck runs out. Your fatigue catches up with you, and you slow down for the briefest of moments… and the Minotaur grabs your body with its huge fist. Immediately you feel a crushing pressure on your body; your bones creak, your organs squirm, and you scream. It raises you to its face. The bull’s jaws open wide, and you can smell the fetid stench of its breath.
You raise your sword arm, Honourblade in hand, and in a last desperate act of defiance you thrust it at the Minotaur’s head. It catches the blade in its eye. The beast bellows and squeezes down tightly with its fist. Your torso goes to mush, and you scream again and again. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It hurls you down the corridor – you fly and splat against a nearby wall. You cannot move. Your body is done for. Your organs are crushed. You think you can see your legs at a considerably different angle from your body. You just wonder why you aren’t dead yet, why the pain hasn’t robbed you of all your senses. Hearing a loud bellow, you watch as the enraged Minotaur charges down the corridor at you, bleeding profusely from one eye.
It forgets to watch its step.
Well, the stone was in its new blind-spot anyway.
There is a click.
A solid block of stone slams down on the Minotaur, ignoring its monstrous strength. The head of the bull pops off and rolls to your side. Even in death its rage-filled visage was hideous.
As the trap raises, you see Theseus walking towards you. Looking down at you with pity and sorrow, he searches through your smashed body for the thread, which he pockets. Then, he picks up the bull’s head with some difficulty. You manage to open your mouth, croaking out a word. “…statuette.” If he managed to bring it to you, you might have a chance of regenerating. Theseus closes his eyes. He appears to be struggling with himself. His hands balls into fists and tremble. When he opens his eyes, they are blank.
“I’m sorry. You were a brave fighter, but I love Ariadne far too much to risk my life any further.” He picks up the Honourblade, fallen by your side. “All I can give you now is a quick death.” And with that, he drives it through your neck, and you know no more.
***
Well, looks like you couldn’t last without us, kid.
A voice breaks the solitude of the darkness. No… many voices.
“How are you guys talking to me?”
I suppose you could say that you’re nearly as dead as we are.
That’s why you can perceive us.
“I’m dead, then?”
Almost. There’s that littlest spark of you still living. Good thing it got stuck in your body.
Guess where it is?
Even before they finish speaking, you know.
“The Honourblade. You’ve been watching me?”
We’ve been asleep, mostly, but your memories are easily accessed.
Well, boy, to be honest, if you die, we do die with you. There doesn’t seem to be any other way out of this…
That sword of yours was designed by those tendriled monsters. It works as they do.
It can give you one last shot. Here, we'll show you.
You feel a sudden hunger. The urge to devour permeates your very essence.
Eat us.
“What?”
You’ve been a really kind lad, and this is why we’re making this offer. Consume us.
Sure, this is going to bring down a shit load of attention on you from the masters AND the Gieloth, but we think you’ve always done the right thing… or at least, tried to. We think you can handle this.
You deserve another chance. For old time’s sake.
“How’s this going to help… me eating you?” The hunger is getting stronger.
Oh, we don’t really know. At best it will use our energy to spark your little Gieloth-made toy to full life, which in turn brings you back to life due to the conduit between you and the sword.
At worst you die. Which is what’s going to happen anyway.
You mean, at worst he becomes an undead abomination bent on devouring all in his path.
That’s a very very low probability, not even worth mentioning!
We really don’t know exactly what will happen, however. Never been tried, all theoretical!
You think for a minute. “And you will die? You’ll give up your energy so that I can live?”
Yeah, we won’t be around anymore. But we know exactly what type of person you are, and that’s why we think you can be entrusted with the power we have.
We’re a really bad batch, y’know. Rebellious and shit. You showed us with that Sekhenun incident that true defiance was possible. Kept us thinking for quite a while.
The voices laugh.
So, what’ll it be? A chance at life, or eternal rest?
***
A. New life, new power, another chance at setting things right on this painful world – you will pay the price to gain it. You succumb to the hunger and devour the willing voices, killing them in return for power. They will live on, eternally, as part of you - they would die uselessly anyway. You refuse to die here, rotting where no man will ever find you.
B. You are tired. You have no real purpose. Every good deed you have done is transient, easily undone. This world does not need you. There will be other immortals. There might even be other good immortals, but that does not concern you. At any rate, to ask the voices to sacrifice themselves for your folly is unthinkable. You will go with them into death, and take your eternal rest within the Labyrinth of Crete.