"You know," I said, stepping over what looked like a particularly artistic bloodstain, "when I pictured my first real adventure, I imagined more treasure chests and fewer charred cultists."
Saras moved ahead of me with practiced silence, her sword ready as she checked each shadow.
The way she moved was exactly as I'd programmed her – efficient, deadly, but never wasteful. Seeing those animations translated into real movement was oddly mesmerizing.
"In my experience, my Lord," she said without looking back, "the dead often guard the most valuable secrets."
"That's either profound wisdom or deeply disturbing philosophy. I haven't decided which."
We'd left the ritual chamber behind twenty minutes ago, and I was starting to appreciate just how extensive these ruins were. What I'd initially taken for a simple cave system was actually a multi-level complex that had been carved and expanded over centuries.
Some chambers were natural formations that had been smoothed and improved.
Others showed clear signs of deliberate construction – archways carved with symbols that made my eyes water, rooms with perfect acoustics for chanting, and far too many surfaces stained with substances I didn't want to identify.
"This place has layers," I observed, running my hand along a wall where three different architectural styles met. "The oldest sections look... familiar. Like something I designed for the game's hellish realms. But the newer additions are definitely human work."
"The cultists were not the first to use this place, my Lord," Saras confirmed. "These ruins have served many masters over the centuries."
The first sealed door we encountered proved my point perfectly. It was massive – eight feet tall and made of black stone that seemed to drink light. Chains wrapped around it multiple times, secured with locks that had rusted solid decades ago.
"Want me to break it down?" I asked, examining the ancient metalwork.
"Allow me, my Lord," Saras said, already reaching for the chains.
"Actually, let me try something first."
I'd been feeling it since we left the ritual chamber – a sense that these ruins somehow knew me. The shadows seemed deeper when I was around, the temperature dropped in my presence, and I could swear the walls themselves were whispering in languages I didn't recognize but somehow understood.
I placed my palm against the stone door and spoke: "[Unlock]."
Power flowed out of me like water through a broken dam. It wasn't like casting a spell in a game – no mana cost, no cooldown, no careful resource management. The magic just... happened. The chains didn't break; they crumbled to dust, falling away like they'd aged a thousand years in an instant. The massive door swung open silently.
"Well," I said, staring at my hand, "that was disturbingly easy."
"Your power resonates with this place, my Lord," Saras observed, peering into the newly opened corridor. "The ruins respond to your presence."
She was right. As we walked deeper, I could feel the connection strengthening. These weren't just ancient stones – they were somehow alive, waiting for someone who understood their purpose. Every step seemed to wake sections that had been dormant for decades.
"It's like the whole place has been holding its breath," I muttered.
The corridor opened into what must have once been a grand hall. Columns stretched up into darkness, carved with spiraling designs that seemed to writhe when I wasn't looking directly at them. And the walls...
"Saras, look at this."
The murals covering the walls were still vibrant despite their obvious age, telling a story in vivid detail. They showed a great war between armies of humans and demons – but these weren't mindless monsters. The demons were organized, disciplined, led by figures in elaborate robes and crowns.
And at the center of it all...
"That's you, my Lord," Saras said quietly.
She was right. The central figure wore my face – Dantalion's face – the same golden eyes and pale features. He stood commanding legions of soldiers, one hand raised toward storm clouds, the other holding a book that seemed to pulse with inner light.
"But that's impossible," I said, moving to the next section. This mural showed the same figure building great cities, teaching both humans and demons, establishing what looked like a golden age of knowledge and cooperation.
The third panel showed it all in flames.
The final section depicted the figure – me, or someone who looked exactly like me – disappearing into a great rift in reality, leaving behind a world that burned and people who'd clearly loved him.
"Someone's been here before," I said slowly. "Someone like me."
"Ancient prophecy, perhaps?" Saras suggested diplomatically. "Or the artists' vision of what was to come?"
"Maybe." I couldn't shake the feeling that I was looking at history, not prophecy. "Come on. Let's keep exploring before I start developing a complex about predestination."
We continued deeper, and with each chamber, my confidence grew. This place could work as a base. The ancient architects had known what they were doing – multiple escape routes, defensible positions, chambers for different purposes, even what sounded like a natural water source echoing from one of the side passages.
"The tactical advantages are significant," Saras noted as we entered what had clearly been a library. Stone shelves were carved directly into the walls, and while most books had crumbled to dust, some had survived in impossible condition. "Underground but not trapped, with clear sight lines and multiple fallback positions."
"Plus look at these texts," I said, approaching one of the intact books. As I got closer, it began to glow softly, its cover pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. "They're reacting to me. If I'm stuck in this world, I'm going to need information."
"Information we cannot currently read, my Lord," Saras pointed out. "These scripts are ancient. We would need a scholar to decipher them properly."
She was right, of course. The symbols on the books were completely foreign to me, despite the fact that something about them felt familiar. I'd need help – the kind of help that came with violet eyes and a obsession with forbidden knowledge.
"Good point," I said. "Though I think I know someone who could help with that problem."
"Meidina," Saras said, understanding immediately.
"Eventually. Let's finish exploring first. If we're going to make this place our base, I want to know every entrance, exit, and potential weak point."
We spent another hour mapping the complex, finding chambers that could serve as living quarters, workshops, storage areas, and what looked suspiciously like a throne room complete with a chair carved from black obsidian.
The place was even more extensive than I'd thought – it extended deep into the hillside, with natural caves connecting to artificial chambers in a maze that would be a nightmare for invaders to navigate.
"Whoever built this knew about defense in depth," I commented as we explored a particularly twisting section of corridor.
"Multiple builders, my Lord," Saras corrected. "I count at least four different construction styles. This place has been expanded and modified for centuries."
She was right again. The oldest sections were clearly non-human – all dramatic arches and subtle architectural malevolence that matched my memories of designing hellish realms in Erevos Online. Later additions were human but still focused on dark magic. The newest sections were obviously the work of the recent cultists, crude and amateurish compared to the ancient craftsmanship.
"It's perfect," I said as we stood in what was clearly the most defensible chamber we'd found – circular, with only one entrance, carved from solid stone. "Hidden, defensible, with all the infrastructure we need. The people who originally built this knew exactly what they were doing."
"Shall we clear the remaining areas, my Lord?" Saras asked.
"One more level," I agreed. "Then we can start planning how to actually use this place."
We descended a carved staircase that spiraled down into the deepest part of the complex. The air here was different – older, heavier, filled with the weight of centuries. Our footsteps echoed strangely, as if the stone itself was listening.
The staircase ended in a long hallway lined with alcoves, each one containing what looked like ceremonial artifacts. Chalices, daggers, books bound in materials I didn't want to think about too hard, and other items that practically radiated magical energy.
"This feels important," I said, running my hand along the wall. The stone was warm to the touch, and I could swear I felt a pulse underneath my palm, like a slow heartbeat.
"My Lord," Saras called from ahead, her voice tight with surprise. "You need to see this."
I hurried to where she stood at the end of the hallway, in front of what was clearly the most important chamber in the entire complex.
The entrance was sealed by a vault door that made the others look like practice exercises. This one was covered in symbols that I recognized immediately.
Runes from Erevos Online.
Symbols I'd designed myself for the game's most ancient and powerful magical systems.
Script that I'd created to represent the fundamental forces that governed reality in my fictional world.
"That's impossible," I breathed, moving closer to examine the intricate carvings. Every single symbol was exactly as I'd designed it, down to the smallest detail. The primary rune at the center was the Mark of Dominion – the symbol I'd created to represent ultimate authority over demonic legions.
"My Lord?" Saras asked carefully. "Do you recognize these markings?"
"I should," I said, reaching out to touch the central rune. "I created them."
The moment my finger made contact, the entire door blazed with golden light.
Power flowed through the symbols like molten metal through carefully carved channels, and I heard the sound of ancient mechanisms awakening.
Locks that hadn't moved in centuries clicked open, and the massive door began to swing inward.
"It knows me," I said in wonder. "This vault was made for Dantalion. The real Dantalion. But if that's true, then..."
I couldn't finish the thought. If this vault was designed for me – for my character – then someone who knew about Erevos Online had been here before. Someone who'd either played the same game or...
"My Lord," Saras said urgently, "what lies beyond that door?"
I peered into the darkness beyond the threshold, feeling ancient power calling to me like a siren song. Whatever was in there, it was important. Possibly more important than anything else we'd discovered.
But it was also dangerous. I could feel that too, in the way the shadows seemed to writhe just beyond the edge of the light, in the whispers that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I think we're about to find out."
As we stood on the threshold of a vault that shouldn't exist, designed with symbols I'd created for a fictional world, I realized that my situation was even more impossible than I'd thought.
Someone had been here before me. Someone who knew about Dantalion, about the legions, about the entire mythology I'd built around my character.
The question was: were they friend or foe?
And were they still here?
To be continued...