The tunnel ahead was dark, barely illuminated by the flashlight in hand.
Lowering my head a bit, wanting to see how I would fit.
It did not promise a pleasant ride ahead.
Before entering the tunnel, I took a last glance back, the figure of the newbie falling into my eye.
She had made it this far, so calling her a newbie did not seem quite fair, considering the usual short length of a service to the government.
Still, it felt difficult to see Alexia as an experienced individual. She still had that hint of innocence in her that Authority Wielders could not afford.
She had yet to do anything against the Call's eternal melody, either.
Telling her the origins of the methods to lessen its effects seemed to have been a mistake.
Noting this down for the future, intending to inform Darron about this, to smoothen future indoctrinations.
Maybe it was better to leave them in ignorance than to inform them.
This would lead to fewer problems down the road.
After all of those to enter this line of duty, the naive will inevitably fall and be consumed by the city.
Ignorance was bliss, and it would lessen the burden on their team.
Throwing a nod her way one last time, a complex expression found itself on her face.
I left without regret, not acknowledging her feelings. It would be more efficient to nurture a feeling of debt that way.
Depicting emotions needed for such interaction was also difficult to achieve. This just leads to slip-ups.
Sending her in would have been pointless either way.
A liability such as her was too risky to bring along.
One hand on the wall, tracing the path, I carefully walked forward, a trace of confidence in every step.
As the white artificial light shining on my back weakened, it eventually seized up fully. The distance to the entrance had grown substantially.
Walking further…
This tunnel was far longer than originally expected.
How could a few mortal people dig such a substantially long tunnel? To add to that, it felt far too sturdy to have been brute-forced through.
Noticing walls closing in around, the thought of returning briefly came to mind before being discarded a moment later.
If the walls were closing in, it meant the tunnel was near its end. First, crouching down further, my head almost hitting the rough ceiling, as I continued on.
Half an hour later, the process had slowed significantly. At this point, I was crawling forward on all fours.
This was getting ridiculous. I had never been particularly claustrophobic, but this was becoming humiliating for an authority wielder of my status.
At least most of my coworkers would feel that way, I'd assume.
Seeing the seemingly infinite expanse of the tunnel, the thought of returning sprang up anew. This time, however, it was not immediately denied.
The desire did not originate from fear, but cold, calculating logic. This started to seem pointless.
I am not led by blind bravery.
It was simply clear to me that I would not die… today. My life force had told me so.
The day I'd die had long been set in stone.
Taking a last stark look into the darkness, I activated my ability.
The world turned grey, all around. A grey expanse could be seen through my eyes, nothing but grey, no other color finding its way into it.
Looking deeply into the distance of the grey expanse, where the way ahead would have lain, there seemed to be nothing.
Flash.
A weak white light sprang up in the distance, starkly contrasting the monotonous shades of grey.
I am close.
Crawling for another few minutes, a wall of small pebbles blocked the way, but through the cracks a weak shimmer of light broke through.
A shimer only he could see.
Life!
There was someone behind there.
Klanck!
What is that sound?
….
Klanck!
….
Klanck!
Quietly and carefully pushing the rubble aside, the rock below suddenly loosened.
Bam, I fell forward, the rocks pulling me along.
Worry wormed its way into my thoughts, or I'd like to believe that it was, all so similar to the larva worming through the dead man's corpse.
Will the cave collapse?
Will I be buried here?
What about my wife?
What will she do?
At least that's what I probably should feel at the moment, right?
That's what society expects me to feel.
Bwam.
I fell forward, suddenly colliding with a very even dusty cement surface.
Jumping up and shaking off the doubts, I aimed my gun, but there was no one. The sound had disappeared.
Bed?
Desk?
Closet?
This was a bedroom?
Looking around, this was a very normal bedroom with a luxurious bed and a wooden closet on one side.
Frowning slightly, I assessed further, the frown deepening with every second.
Did the tunnel lead into another building?
Judging from the length of it, this wasn't out of question.
Tracing the king-sized bed's rim, not the slightest particle of dust could be felt.
This place seems to be in good condition, so it's unlikely not to have an outside connection.
Carefully walking out of the room through the closed door to the right.
It did not need much strength to open the door. Its joints were properly maintained.
Gun in hand, the blue thin mantel designed not to hinder my movements, unmoved by the wind in the slightest, if there even was any.
I looked at the room in front of me. It was a bit larger than the bedroom, but not by a lot.
There was a bunch of stuff placed around the place chaotically, with all kinds of objects stacked on top of each other.
Some looked old, others new and technologically advanced. Books stacked upon each other, their titles bizarre others known widely. A stuffed animal, striped black and white, with its tail fluffy, was placed atop a wooden tower, a clock engraved on it.
In one corner, the large clock ticked quietly, its sound klanking throughout the room.
In another, there was a small round aquarium with a decrepit hand floating within, surrounded by myriad threads.
As I looked at it, a chill prickled the back of my neck, some uneasy sense creeping along my nerves.
Whoever...
Whatever the hand's owner was, it had been a powerful being.
The hand seemed almost to beckon or accuse, faint shapes beneath the water shifting in the artificial light, as if the whole thing was still quietly listening. And there were many more of these sights scattered throughout the room.
Out of all of it, the items and peculiar sights didn't shock me, a realization, on the other hand, did so very much.
I know this room.
It was the same one I had just been in before entering the tunnel.
A bit hurriedly, I walked to the door to the right, where the tunnel, Alexia, and a motionless corpse were supposed to be.
And there… was nothing. The room was empty, with a carpet depicting a river covering the floor where the tunnel's entrance was supposed to be.
Walking over to where the tunnel should have been, I carefully moved the rug aside, its wave patterns so finely woven that they almost seemed real, as he pulled it aside.
There was a cement floor, similar to the previous rooms, a very common architectural style for hundreds of years, one that had not changed much over those years.
Nitting my brows together slightly, I moved the carpet back, not planning to disturb the place's order. As the carpet's imagery fell into my eye once more, a thoughtful expression lay on my face.
I should report back. This might be bigger than expected. Making the decision, I headed out of the room and through the room of antiques.
Walking through the open door, the edge of the king-sized bed came into sight, but the tunnel, however, did not.
It was gone.
The collapsed wall was healed, as if it were new.
Not getting discouraged, at most a bit annoyed, I tapped the wall where a hole should have been. It was solid, no cavity behind.
Narrowing my eyes. This was strange.
Theories came to mind.
This phenomenon originated from a beast or an artifact.
Most likely one with a main tendency towards time, considering the symbolic connections scattered across the room.
Space seemed a likely tendency as well, considering the copy of the space he had been in a moment ago.
But this might have been wrong, or partially, at the very least.
Looking at the intact wall, far beyond it, the image of the man's corpse came to mind.
He had not shown any kind of visible resistance, almost as if he had simply lain down and died.
What a peculiar way to die. If it were a beast, it would have consumed him more likely than not, or at least hidden the body.
So it's more likely an artifacts doing.
Concentrating on my eyes, the world became grey once more.
The white light, however, was far clearer this time. It was five steps ahead.
My ability is to see the life force of entities and the traces they leave behind. The vision it grants comes at a cost: the longer I use it, the heavier the dull ache behind my eyes becomes, and my perception of the real world starts to blur at the edges. If I push myself too far, it leaves me disoriented for minutes, sometimes unable to distinguish lingering afterimages from actual threats, which can be dangerous in a place like this.
That was how I had discovered the hatch, since someone had recently opened it.
And now, right in front of me, there was the life force of someone who had to stand there.
Blinking once the ability was deactivated, and in front, there was once again no one, not the slightest sign of life.
Understanding a bit more about the circumstances, I activated the ability once more, a bit more certain this time.
It stood there again, its light-formed body repeating the same movement over and over, its arms rising and falling with the sound of the ticking of the clock.
Taking a step forward, the light moved a step back. The creature, however, never stopped its movements.
"Hmmm"
Is this an Illusion?
An illusion like a cage built out of the past?
Not planning to work on assumptions, I walked back into the living room and started collecting items.
There were many awful facets to working for the government, but at the very least, they had a protocol for dealing with and understanding almost every situation.
To deal with Illusions, one first had to make sure that one was in one, since getting out of them typically required extreme measures and consequences.
The methods to ensure that one was truly in an illusion were numerous, some reserved only for special individuals, like those blessed with the ability to see through such illusions, and others usable through objects taken along.
And then there was the oldest, tried-and-tested method: attempting a ritual.
Throwing down a sheet of paper, I bit my thumb. A light but somehow different than usual pain ran through my nerves, as I started drawing differing symbols onto the sheet.
Not every ritual would work, since those pulling power from oneself could be used normally.
The rituals that wouldn't work were the ones that involved exchanging something with a higher entity, after all, if you exchanged something imaginary, conjured by the illusion, the entity would likely not respond, or even send retribution if it was malicious in nature.
Writing down the name of an entity that was fairly neutral to humans, onto the sheet, I cut my hand deeply as droplets filled with a certain spark of energy fell onto the paper.
The entity chosen for the ritual also had certain importance since there were those who would still react even without a proper offering, and use this as a bridge to influence the person. Luckily, over the generations, they had found the symbols for those that were mostly friendly and those that were unfriendly.
Looking at the circle for a few moments, it flashed as the blood started glowing, from the outer symbols closing in on the inner ones, and suddenly, when reaching the offering of a few droplets of blood, it stopped.
The circle lost its light as the contract was rejected.
"So it's true. sigh"
I let out a deep sigh, one filled with relief and, at the same time, a bit of trepidation at what was to come next.
Picking up the gun or the illusion of a gun that I had had placed next to the circle. I stared at the trusted companion of mine or the illusion of it at the very least for a few long moments, then slowly brought it to my head, until I could feel its cold metallic nosle pressing at my temple.
I feel a slight tremble run through my hand, and the ticking of the clock in the distance seemed to be growing louder by the second.
Seconds went by like hours.
The doubts of having made a mistake clawed.
Klank!
Klank!
Bang!
***
Opening my eyes with sudden motion, I was drenched in sweat.
Klank!
Looking to the side, two motionless bodies lay, a man and a womman.
Klank!
They were both dead.
Klank!
Rats were eating and tearing at their innards, their lifeless, glassy eyes staring upwards.
Klank!
And Infront…
Klank!
There was a man holding a large pickax, mashing it into a wall, as his eyes were similarly glassy, slowly digging a tunnel.
Klank!
Digging his way forward into some far-off place that he would never reach, simply going on and on until his life would one day fully snuff out.
***
Walking out of the tunnel, a relieved Alexia stood there. In my hand was a pickaxe, and on my forehead was a barely opened round wound, a bit of blood stuck to my clenched fist holding the pickaxe.
"You're wounded, I-I'll get a first aid kit. Just wait there."
Wearing an innocent and relaxed smile, as if nothing had happened… Nothing had happened.
"Dont worry, it's over. I've got the object."
Waving the pickaxe, lightly, a glove, separating me from it.
"And tell the corps collectors that there are three corpses down there.
Let's head back." I spoke using the lighthearthed tone that relaxed those in my surroundings.
For some reason, Alexia wore a weird, disturbed expression on her face at those words.