"Here we are, gentlemen, where our journey begins."

The four brothers, the professor, stood before what the stairways led to below: a circular chamber, in the middle being a stone, mossy, cracked bowl of sorts, obviously left to be for the past centuries, large enough for one to bathe an Ursa minor. The air floated in coldness, though not strong enough to burn nostrils, and neither severe enough to cause a shiver; in some way, it felt comfortable to stand in the building's cold nature.

From the staircase entrance, across the room, were four rectangular passages, three clearly well-lit by previous expeditions, deep into the underground, with one being left to its own gentle darkness, beckoning forward the architect, as he spoke.

"This here will be the passage we enter. On each floor, there are ten rooms, in which we will record their relics. Once we clear each floor, we will head further down into the next, and the next, until we reach the chamber after we cleared a hundred rooms. Now, is there anymore questions you all have, before we begin the expedition?"

"... Yeah, is... is there anything else to worry about down there? Or is it the ghoooost we have to be aware of?" Russel inquired, his mind having been struck in particular by Richard's words in the airship.

"No. As deep as we have gone, we have found... nothing, yet, to pose a threat to us, other than the haunting of this construct."

"That's another thing, Richard acted back on the ship as if we could be harmed by the spirits, is it true?"

"... Yes," The presence of the chamber fell into mild dread, as the brother looked among one another, their expressions varying in small degrees of blanching, while Port, standing behind them, remained visibly calm. Visibly, but the anxiety did dwell within, for ghosts were more than out of Port's league. Our anyone's league for that matter, as far as any of the sic men knew. "But, do not worry. The spirits only grow restless the deeper we go. They tend to... start harming men after about twenty floors or so."

"... Twenty? Twenty floors? Two hundred rooms? How fucking big is this thing?" The old man chuckled, his features narrowing and stretching extremely, as he turned back at Sky.

"Kehheheh- well, so far the deepest we have gone through before retreating is... I'd say a little over a thousand rooms or so."

"..." Sky silently nodded his head, as the feeling of malaise took over. "Retreat, huh? You were all just retreating from... the ghosts, right?"

"Yes."

"Nice."

"Now, I'm assuming you all brought your own light-sources for our journey?" The four brothers raised their lanterns to their fronts, while Port simply pull out a flashlight. "Good, all of you will count everything we find in each room," Dr. Grun would hold up his own clipboard, papers attached, and a pen of shining properties, "and I will keep track of them, understand?" The man was met with affirmative yeses. "Then let's go, we will rest after having gone through fifty rooms."

And so, CRDL led the way, their lanterns lit with white lights, combined to offer more than enough guidance for them to move forward, Cardin leading the way, as Port followed behind, his flashlight smacking against the walls of the darken corridor, the circle of white revealing much more than needed of the amber-like walls, clean of cracks or plant growth from the dirt.

"Here we are: first room!" Cardin proclaimed, as he stuck his arm out through the first, empty doorway of stone. "Annnd... its nothing but shit." Not true, for it was filled with pottery. Shattered, that is, pieces of age, molded shards of clay and other minerals scattered about the perfectly flat floor. There was a bed frame, of rotted wood. But there was nothing more.

"If this discovery bores you, Winchester, don't worry. The deeper we go, the more peculiar and fascinating its own contents become."

"Yeah yeah..." Cardin stepped aside for the old man to pass, his pen clicking in anticipation. Russel, Dove, and Sky would end up taking count of the broken pottery, as the archaeologist stood back, taking down the numbers, as Cardin and Port waited near the doorway.

"All right, onto the next." From across the room, was another, where the professor and Winchester entered first, finding again more broken pottery. But alongside it, were these sheets of dried animal skin, etched upon them with ink, of images from the past.

"Ah, Cardin, look at this!" Port would exclaim, as he picked up one of the dried pieces, an action Cardin would have questioned. But he didn't. "Paintings! Or at least I think they are." The two studied the image, seemingly of two blockish-figures, one smaller than the other, looking up at a circular, gray object.

"You think that's... the moon?"

"Perhaps. It could be it before it was shattered."

"Should you even be holding that?" Russel questioned the professor, having just entered with the rest of the expedition, only to be answered by Grun.

"Not really; any other archaeologist would be livid at the sight of him holding that, but with there being so much having been discovered further down, I'd say there's no harm with one of them crumbling to pieces."

"... Okay." It wasn't okay, at least Russel believed it wasn't, as he went with his brothers to take count of the old pottery and paintings. He felt as if it was just a little disrespectful to handle such ancient artifacts with little care for their current state of stability. But disrespectful to who? The dead? Perhaps, though Russel just accepted it anyhow. The other paintings were of different scenes. Some being of what Russel could figure out to be forests, with hunters running for animals. Though what animals were they? They looked big, with horns and red outlines, while some looked exactly the same like the hunters, except just running on all fours.

None of them had time to examine them further, Dr. Grun would express, as they went on to another room. Within it, were more pottery, more bed frames with rotted sheets, yet only a few paintings scattered around.

Take count, take count. The brothers did as so, and when finished, they went onto the next room, the fourth. There was more of a variety of furniture in it, and by that, there were only chairs, loose, missing some legs, and big, rectangular, rotten, rotten, rotten dressers, filled with nothing but unsalvageable cloth.

Say it out loud of what resided here, and move on. They did as so, for the next five rooms, five rooms filled with nothing more but the same old relics they've encountered already, taking count of them, waiting as the old man written down all the numbers he head in this temple. Even despite remembering the haunted nature of this place- which so far they had not experienced, the brothers felt exhausted from boredom already, as Port just started to feel himself drain from the lack of variety in discovery.

Until they reached the last room of the floor, finding to be filled with nothing, except for a, "Skeleton!" as Sky would exclaimed, rushing up, his lantern brightening the surface of etched bone. It was but a human skeleton, its wrists and ankles strapped onto the chair, implying this to be more of a temporary cell for whoever this once was.

"Shit, Sky, calm down," Dove said to his brother, walking up to get a closer look of the skeleton, noticing the etching of its bones. "What the hell? What is this shit?"

"What are you speaking of?"

"Grun- doctor, this... these runes, shit, whatever they are. What is it?"

'Hm, ah- this looks to be what we've been assuming to be the, uh... language of this civilization."

"Ohhh... okay, so they carve their language onto skeletons? Is that it?"

A smile, of amusement, knowing the answer- or theory- to that question, came upon Grun. "Heheh, you say that as a joke, Dove. But, we so far have found nothing resembling to be that of a book, or written text on stone, so far. Yet, we constantly find remains, having been marked by these symbols, their language. As we've brought more and more out, I would sometimes ponder that this is how they record stories, history, events, their... knowledge. Not the dried skin of their paintings, but rather on the bones of their deceased."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"... Woooooow... thaaaat's pretty cool." Cardin dragged on, grinning as well, though it was more in the shape of how one would smile in when told of disturbing information. Even if it is just Grun's theory, the thought of a whole civilization recording everything they've known onto the bones of their dead was incredibly grim.

"Yes. I am honestly surprised that we have found a skeleton that resembles a normal human. This probably... the second, or maybe even third, that we have discovered that looks like it could have been in a non-mutated human."

"W... what are you talking about?" Russel inquired, his mind stuttering a moment, processing what Grun spoke, as he himself took down on his clipboard: one skeleton, one chair.

"Oh, don't worry, all of you will find out soon enough. Now come, for we march down into the second floor." With that, Port was the first to leave the room, followed by all, the feet echoing down, as they entered another stairway, taking them down a good twenty steps or so, into the second floor.

Room eleven, filled with the usual, broken creations, of pottery and furniture. Though it did have what resembled to be a crib of sorts, for a baby, maybe? Yet it was empty. In room twelve and thirteen, nothing but the same. Fourteen through sixteen, nothing but the same, except for a rack, that of which held, "weapons?"

"Yes, professor," Grun stated, as he stepped up to the burly man's side, "these are but a few of their weapons we will find down here. Axes, swords, daggers, all seemingly to be left safe from time." It was true, much to the bewilderment of the brothers and Port, staring at metal, at wood, looking as if they had just came out of a workshop, finely crafted, decorated, with blades of red, blue, silver, and gold.

"Why the hell do they look fresh?" Pitter-patter, pitter-patter- "WHAT THE-?!" Russel went, as fast as he could, turned 180 to shine his lantern towards the doorway, revealing nothing out of the norm.

"What? What is it?"

"You didn't fucking hear that?, Dove?"

"I heard it." Cardin said, "it sounded like footsteps," as he went out of the door, shining his lantern both ways, catching sight of nothing, with Sky and Port coming out to examine the hallway with him; the professors flashlight gave them much-needed distance, yet there was still nothing to be seen but the darkness being evaporated by light. Meanwhile, Grun was just looking at his clipboard, taking down the numbers.

"It's the ghosts, men, the spirits. And they will deliver us more than mere footsteps, so brace yourselves for them." Russel and Dove followed him out, looking at one another now with uncertain expressions, yet saying nothing, as everyone went into the seventeenth room. Home to another skeleton, missing a few of its own pieces though. Yet it skull remained, being to most notable.

"What... what is that?" Dove asked Grun, their light revealing a skull of what looked to be a normal shaped skull of a human, yet all over its cranium were sockets, of all kinds of sizes, meant for the eyes to inhabit within.

"A skull."

"Yeah, but what the fuck? Look at it, that's not a fucking normal human skull."

"Yes, you are correct. It's like I said: the first we found resembled a perfect human. The rest though... they are of other creatures." Everyone stood still, staring down at it, at the alien skull, their minds racing along with thoughts of how this humanoid may have looked, when it was alive. "There's still more to come, so get on counting."

Count, count, count. They did as they were told, with hesitance, as their eyes occasionally glanced over once in awhile at the abnormal skull, its face staring forward at the doorway. When they finished, rooms eighteen to twenty were next, completely lackluster in terms of having anything peculiar, or more rather inhuman, unnatural.

And to the third floor they went, already feeling their minds strain in mild tiredness; having to constantly count out what lied before them was surprisingly tiresome, thought that skull, and the footsteps, added at least some for of adrenaline, with their hearts beating in anticipation for what else was to come.

In the twenty-first room, there was nothing, literally nothing. The twenty-second and twenty-third, nothing as well. Where did it all go? The twenty-fourth room, apparently, because in reality, it was filled to the brim with what would have been pottery, paintings, furniture, though it was all destroyed, ripped apart.

"... Do we have to take count of all of this?" Dove would inquire of Grun.

"No, no, no. We'll... we'll just have the soldiers clean it out."

To the twenty-fifth room, they would go, yet stopping midway, as they started to listen to what sounded like something was rummaging through the mess of the twenty-fourth room, hearing shards scraping, scraping, scraping, scraping.

Cardin and Port went back to the doorway, as the sound stopped, right as the Winchester's lantern, and Port's flashlight, filled up the room.

"Anything in there?" Grun would casually ask, faintly smiling, unintentionally getting himself confused looks from Dove, Sky, and Russel, baffled by his tranquility with the paranormal.

"... No. No one's in there." Port replied, his narrow eyes slowly searching the room, his thick, white brows twitching.

"Well, then keep on moving then." The doctor led himself into the twenty fifth room, followed by the rest of CRDL, stopping in awe as their lanterns revealed two more skeletons. One, sat in a chair, not strapped to it. Its hands and feet looked more as if it belonged to a canine of sorts, while its skull definitely belonged to a dog, or more so a wolf. Yet despite that, the second skeleton was more impressive.

Sky would be the first to exclaim, "T-That fucking thing is huge!" Before the first one, was a giant, chained up against the wall, with human-esque features, save for only having one eye socket. "It must have stood at twenty, thirty feet TALL at least!" It was the masochist claimed such a fact, that Port and Cardin came in, both becoming nothing but bodies for awe-inspiring feelings, gazing upon the gargantuan, rune-etched skeleton.

"By the Gods- it's massive!"

"It is, isn't it, professor?" Dr. Grun asked, writing down the the chair and two skeletons. "I haven't seen like that, so far. Interesting, how many surprises one can fine here. Let's keep on moving." The five reluctantly did as so, still looking at the giant, canine-humanoid, skeletal remains for a few seconds, before Grun spoke up. "Come on now, there's plenty more for you all to gawk at further down!"

They followed him down, going through rooms twenty-six through thirty, the noteworthy thing coming across of being a rather large canavs of dried skin, nailed onto a wall, painted on it an army of figures, ranging in shapes and sizes, as they stood before a cliffside, on top of which a blue figure stood on top, holding what they could only guess to be a sword, perhaps, or maybe a rather large dagger, as Sky suggested.

Anyhow, they went one, down to the fourth floor, Russel leading them down this time. It was he left off the last step, that for a second, the Bronzewing boy immediately jumped back, into Cardin, as he started to panic. "FUCKFUCKK- CARDIN!-"

"SHOT- DOVE! What the fuck is it?!"

"I, just saw something FUCKING looking at me!" The two stood by eachother sides, Dove clutching onto his leader's elbow, his heart throbbing hard, as he pointed towards a doorway, the second one on the right. "Over there! It was FUCKING poking its head out from there!" The two would quickly rush over without hesitation, having pulled out their weapons, as they entered into the room, finding there to be nothing. Absolutely nothing in the room.

"Dove..."

"IT WAS HERE! I FUCKING SAW IT! SOMETHING, CARDIN, WAS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME FROM THIS ROOM!"

"Dove, calm down," he heard Port's voice, turning around to find the rest of the group having caught up to them, "calm down, and... tell us what you saw."

"... I... it was... it was like a human, kind of. But its skin was... it black, like fucking pitch-black." Cardin's heart skipped a beat. "And it's eyes, they were just white, bright, fucking white. With sharp-ass teeth." It sounded much like that hallucination, or monster, in the woods that night.

Grun asked, "That's what you saw?" and Dove would nod his head, prompting the doctor to now look around the room, in all its emptiness. At first glance, one would not notice all of the scratched on the walls, belonging to a claw with three nails. "... Well, there isn't much I can say about it, other than what you saw was an apparition."

"... Yeah? That's what I saw?"

Grun shrugged, "Well... what did you think apparitions were?"

"No no, I know what they fucking are. It's just that you seem pretty damn calm despite all of this happening."

"Well... I will acknowledge that. But it is mostly due to I having spent more time down here than probably anyone else. Once you get to know the unknown, it becomes... a little less frightening."

"... Only a little?"

"Yes... only a little."

"..."

"Now come, we must keep going." No one would speak for the rest of the floor, not even to express opinions or shock when they stumbled upon the remains of humanoids, of skulls too large for their bodies, arms too long for the average human, finger bones growing out of an entire skeleton, tusks sprouting from their bottom jaws, crossed between animals and man, or just generally looking like a mutant.

When hearing footsteps, thumping, knocking on the walls, however, they would bat an eye, just to make sure nothing was there, their beating up against their ribs whenever turning around, waiting for their turn to be met with a ghastly image or vision or mirage, waiting, waiting.

After having cleared the fortieth, in it being the crushed skulls of what they feared to be belonging of infants- Sky joked about them being little people instead, but they knew better- they would head down into the next floor that awaited. In room forty-three, Cardin would come across a painting, that of which unnerved him to the fullest that any human could achieve.

It was not much, but a, surprisingly detailed, tall figure, with lanky arms, lanky legs, on a lanky body, that was pure black. Yet in the middle of it, there remained to be a white, perfectly equal, triangle; it was it, wasn't it? Yet Cardin did not say a word about it, and no one caught sight of him shoving it in his backpack, intending to examine it, then burn it to ash.

They're coming

It was when they were about to enter room forty-four when the explorers heard the disembodied, whimpering voice, a woman, whispering, like she was from someone. But nobody said a word about it, all they did was stop in their tracks, waiting, ears spasming and grips tightening on their sources of light, soon going back to their mission and entering into the room to take count of the broken past.

It just so happened, they'd find a skeleton, curled up, wearing rags, hidden within a closet. Unlike the majority of them, this one looked to be that of a perfect human.

In room forty-five, it was a mess of goods, too damaged to take count of properly, mixed with scattered ulna, ankles, wrist bones, teeth, skull fragments. Now being a pack rat apparently, Cardin noticed a golden, curved knife, hidden among the rubbish, the sight of which seduced Cardin into taking it with him as well, another hidden addition to his backpack.

For forty-six through forty-nine, gem were discovered, these large, maybe a foot-long, purplish beauties, beckoning Cardin to yet again take one for his own. Albeit it won't serve any purpose to him, unlike the painting or the knife, but it is pretty, and Cardin wouldn't mind having one of them just to decorate their room, perhaps he could set it up on one of their crates.

"Did one of you just lick my hand?"

"... What?" Dove inquired of Sky, looking over at his brother, seeing him staring down at his own hand.

"Something just... I think licked my hand..."

"... Weird." Dove responded dismissively, feeling that being licked by something unknown is not the worst thing to happen to Sky. He knew it must not be a pleasant sensation, to be licked by a ghost, but still, it's not that bad.

Sky felt otherwise though, "Weird? Weird. That's all you gotta say?"

"Well, yeah, what the hell do you want any of us to say about that, Sky?"

"Dude, a ghost licked my hand, DOVE!"

"And I don't care enough about it, Sky, okay? I literally don't care enough about it."

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP

"Well I fucking cared about that apparition you s-"

"-Sky, shut up. That's a order, you little shi-" Cardin cut himself off, turning to his back in the blink of an eye, appearing to be immensely disgruntled by something, as he rubbed the back of his head.

"... Did you feel something touch you?" Port guessed, not meeting up his eyes with Cardin's.

"... Fucking- come on, let's just fucking go to the next room."

"Yes, we are almost done for the day. Just one more room, and then we can finally rest." One last room, finally. The four brothers would lead the way to the fiftieth, and final room for the day. And when they entered into the square chamber, the sight of a statue, stood before them, the only object of the room.

It was made in the image of a humanoid, a creature, hunched over, in a begging position of sorts, atop a block, with an overweight torso of man. Its arms however, looked disproportionate, with biceps and forearms as skinny as a twig, yet its hands were freakishly large, with only four, fat digits, instead of five. As for the legs, there were none. Instead in their place, looked to be that of a slug's own tail. On the altar's front, of which this thing hunched upon, as a plaque, made metal that clearly was not the same as that of the weapons, being a rugged, filthy old thing, written on it more of the characters that belonged to the ancient language of these people, or more akin to monsters.

"Look at this, Grun. Have you seen anything like this so far?" Cardin asked the old man, having just made his way into the last room of the day, as his wizened eyes laid upon the stone abomination.

"Hm, yes, we do come across statues from time to time. But so far, not one is the same as the other. And this one," the doctor went up to the statue, looking at where a face should be, only to see a smooth, blank surface, "... is no exception. " One statue. "All right. Well then, shall we rest in here? Or would you all prefer the hallway?"

Everyone chose the room with what Sky referred to as "Slug-Man," feeling more comfortable with the thought of not being pulled into one of the other rooms when sleeping in the hallway. So they unpacked all that the brought, sleeping bags, snacks, drinks... that was about it. Nothing really else was brought. One lantern would remain lit, Cardin's, as he placed it at the base of Slug-Man.

"So, how you boys liking... liking this mission, so far?"

"... Eh."

"Eh? Are you not enjoying your time here?" Went Port, eyeing Cardin.

"When I say eh, professor, I mean I'm just... this just wasn't what I was expecting, honestly."

"And what is it about this place that you did not expect, Winchester?" Grun inquired, just blankly staring up into the ceiling, as he let himself be enveloped by his own sleeping bag.

"... The skeletons. I thought they'd be human, but nah, they aren't, are they? Whoever it was that lived here were fucking monsters, weren't they?"

"I wouldn't call them monsters, Cardin-"

"-Nah, that's right, you said mutants, I remember. Everything that lived here was a filthy abomination. We came from these fuckers."

"Now now, I did say mutants, but... we still don't know what they really were, Cardin; that's just what we're currently calling them."

"Well there no fucking way they were all born like that, or else some of us would be born like them today."

"Maybe the faunus are descendants of these freaks," Sky chimed in, "they're animalistic like these skeletons, so maybe the genetics or shit like that just toned down as centuries went by."

Russel would counter his brother, however, having snuggled himself into his sleeping bag, staring up into the ceiling of this temple. "Mmmm... not really. These remains have features that aren't really animalistic. Like that skull with all those sockets? Or how about the cyclops we saw? That basically fucking confirms that they were once real."

Someone started to groan, not from their room, but the one across from them, where the lantern struggled to reach. It'd only last for a few seconds though, the entirety having been allowed in silence from the men, as their heads craned over into the direction, their eyes remaining blanks until it stopped, giving them permission to look back at one another, eyes flicking from one another.

"... I'm more bothered by what's here now." Dove, huddled in a corner, facing a wall, made it known, "I don't mind if we're all descendants of mutants, or if these were just as born as they were. But... what I saw, and what we're hearing... it's just surreal, to experience this for the first time. I'm glad we're not going deeper than a hundred rooms; I don't want to face whatever it is that made you all retreat."

"..."

"... Welp, I believe chit-chat is over now. We'll need as much sleep as we can for what lies ahead, tomorrow."

"Counting broken vases and bones?"

"And paintings, don't forget paintings, Cardin."

"... Thanks Sky." So they slept, Cardin, Grun, Port, Sky, Russel, and Dove, as the statue was circled by all of them, the lantern wading off any darkness that wanted to take them oh so desperately, sleeping tightly in the comforting light. The sweet light, they took comfort within its sweet protection.

It burns... it burns..