There was a foul-smelling, sticky green slime on the floor. Just when I thought something must have spilled over, a sudden chill ran down my spine.

Since I began my adventuring career, I had never ventured out with so many others before. Ever since my brief encounter with the goblin merchant a few days ago, my mind had been filled with thoughts of Nebula Island. Nebula Island, he said, was where the treasures of a lost age were hidden. Clearly, something hidden on Nebula Island was calling to me. My companions expressed apprehension, but I stood firm in their midst. As adventurers, we must test our insatiable curiosity and courage, right?
We finally arrived at Nebula Island, where our first encounter was with a group of possessed armor soldiers called the Ancient Guardians. Chills ran down my spine as I fended off their razor-sharp blades, and during our battle with them, we nearly fell again and again. This island was certainly a fearsome place, worthy of legend. After defeating all of the Guardians, we found a mysterious portal and entered without hesitation to claim the treasure.

The place we entered through the portal was a dark altar with an ominous aura. We slowly walked around the altar and noticed a strange substance on the floor. It was a sticky, light-greenish liquid. Something about it made my stomach turn, but I didn't have time to realize it was an ominous sign.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, a giant eyeball stared down at us. The eye with tentacles reminded me of the name Exodus I had heard from the goblin. Light began to pour out of the center of that demonic eye, and in an instant, my guild members fell to the ground. All around me, screams and shock erupted into chaos, and the horrific eyeball now pounded the ground, sending powerful waves. Cries of pain broke out here and there, and more than half of my companions died on the spot.

The gaze of Exodus drove us into a hell of despair. Everything seemed to end in an instant. I was on my knees on the ground, clutching my sword. No anger or vengeance filled me, only a fear that seemed to freeze me in place.
The survivors gathered together and attempted to escape, but I was unable to do anything as fear overcame all judgment. I barely made it out alive with the help of my companions. Even now, days later, as I write this journal, I feel fear occupying my mind rather than vengeance, and every night I have nightmares of my companions dying over and over again.
What is it that I need now: a fight, revenge, or simply to forget the memories of the cursed island that I never want to be reminded of again?