Before them, the feet of the wise, old door creaked. Its thick prowess was heavyset, weighing tons against the ground, cinderblock upon cinderblock weight inside it. It resisted movement, for no one had entered it for a while, and it became lonely so fast in its isolated darkness. It shared no fellow rooms, no moldiness that made it joyous, no wood to keep it company, to keep it fancied. Now, put in the darkened ways of ignorance, it held itself and itself only with grudge, a hate that became bloodlust over the few, lonesome days. Dark, greasy must dragged downward in narrow, upside-down pikes, prickling its own surface with a depressed knife of shadow, orange blood shed. Dried tears lingered at its face, its four, indecisive faces that could not be distinguished apart. It reeked of dust and the passage of time, as if it had swum in it much too long, swum just to find some comfort, some ease. No, only the presence of people – any people made it happy. Yet, arrogantly, it shut its mouth tight, strong, refusing entrance at the same time.
"This door," Lance muttered silently, carefully, as if his voice were to disrupt the deep lumber of the portal, the thick entrance put aside from recognition and into its own loathsome rest, where it could find only the least amount of comfort. "It needs… a key?" he asked, carefully, gently. Not one soul was daring enough to make a loud noise – nor a loud sound of any sort. They were afraid to move, their feet frozen in a paranoid meticulousness, only petrified by their own guilt, their own shame. All but Dylan, though, for he had no shame to sop for. He was the lucky one; so was Lance.
"Yes," Shintenmaru answered, voice rather nervous, downright panicky. He felt the need to clear his throat, to provide himself with a certain comfort. But he couldn't. Making that low, unnoticeable noise was much too tricky. Much too risky. "Good eye," he spoke. "Be careful when we go in, and only look straight forward," Shintenmaru instructed nervously, tensely, lowly in a bare whisper. "Trust me; you don't want to see what's at the sides." Lance and Dylan contemplated with nervous glances, constantly trading them in an everlasting exchange convention, then gulped, nervously. Their eyes lifted from each other with certain reluctance, as if looking at each other gave both of them comfort, ease. Lance knew that if this giant titan of a door with angry grudges leaking out from its mouth had to have a key locking its lips unlike any other door in the dimension, there had to be something important about it. Something that had to be locked up inside, something that had to be isolated, just like this door was because of everyone's fear – because of everyone's thoughts. It had to be something – something dangerous inside that had to be incased so it wouldn't harm anyone. Or… was it for the purpose not to keep something in… but to keep someone out?
Shihou focused herself, brought herself back together as much as she could into her regular norm. A thin, glinting ring of god held an immobile, unenthusiastic parade of keys in its arsenal, the golden dancers and bands jingling with each other, each with their own unique walk, unique pattern and cuts. They glinted faintly in the light, barely noticed; the noise made her wonder, made her worry. She knew eyes would be looking to the door from the other side. She knew that she couldn't make any noise, but she knew she had to at least try to act normal. Carefully she wound through each individual, each dancer, and each piece of the parade for the right one, for the right, unique piece that seemed to stand out more than the rest. Then finally, she found it. Its smooth surface of gold was small, sleek, rusted with a certain bloodlust. It felt sickening to her fingers, guilty and tainted with the curse of another, the burdens of someone more unfortunate than she.
With low-resistant trembling fingers, she moved her hand towards the door. The keys jingled once. Twice. Slowly, carefully, unexpectedly they made the noises; unexpectedly people began to worry more. Slowly, she thought. Slowly. She dug the key inside the hole. The hateful door's mouth was now filled, now ready, now awake. She felt it; she felt the gold tingle in her hands, tingle ever so slightly with the force of evil, the feeling and mood of darkness and hell. She swallowed unevenly, and for a second, forgot the next move. She felt the eyes on the other side fall the door and heavy the door, adding its weight, wanting yet somehow not wanting the entrance of an innocent other. Then, her fingers began to react again. Everyone watched, not the least bit impatient. In fact, the Council was afraid, too; they didn't want to enter. But they had to. They couldn't just leave… him there – inside, where he just didn't belong. Or did he?
Shihou turned the key. Silently it clicked. More eyes barricaded the wall. It became hard to swallow, hard to breathe; the air became thick with must, a suffocating, unseen fog of pneumonia and cancer and every other disease in the world. The door clicked once more. It was open – it was vulnerable to a single push, a tiny shove now. Many gulped, afraid, afraid of just by knowing the fact that the door could now be easily opened. "Minoa," Shintenmaru spoke gently, lately. "Get ready," he instructed carefully. A sweat drop lingered at his temple, itching against his skin, telling him to wipe it away and take its life all ready, for it was much too miserable. Shintenmaru couldn't. He had felt much too sympathy for it; sympathy that was caused by fear.
"Yeah," Minoa whispered back in a tiny, barely noticed murmur as the door was pushed with a single touch of palm by Shihou. Into the darkness the door opened. Into the dark it was engulfed, and in the Minors and councils stared. It seemed normal. It seemed like any other darkened, dimmed place in the dimension. But it was all different. It was, in fact, capable of being more dangerous, more fearsome than the Swamp of Mystery. Much more fearsome. Who would be the first to brave into the juvenile fear of dark? Hanabikai. Silent, careful steps inside. He disappeared, immediately into the blackness. Shintenmaru, worried for him, followed. Minoa, worried about both, followed. And the process went on, until everyone, reluctantly, was in the room.
They found themselves walking through the darkness, pacing with no light yet with a way as well, a sense of direction in them, a sense of place and setting. The distant crying of slow, dripping water echoed off the close yet unseen walls. A drop a second, Lance counted in his mind. Specks of time. The dripping noise surrounded them all, as if incasing them in their own prison, their own mobile trailer of hell – more hell than they were already in. "This place is creepy," Dylan muttered daringly. He looked to the corner, and found nothing but dark, nothing but shadowy black. He looked to the other side, and cuddled himself lovingly with his arms, worryingly with his fingers, and found nothing but the same apparition, mirage. Everyone's footsteps accommodated with the drops of the faraway water source. One had to know that there was a lonely pipe somewhere, slowly crying itself to sleep, tears falling into a never-ending puddle to the floor, for its origin was this hellhole, this home made it sad. An unfortunate life it had been through.
"What do you need us for anyway?" Lance spoke solemnly, loudly. The council tensed up, looked around nervously, insecurely. The Minor immediately knew that he had to be quieter from now on, for the council said nothing – none of them even dared to. Minutes went on, minutes of nothing but walking one direction – farther away from the entrance, farther away from escape, and everyone began to get tense. Then, Lance finally got his answer.
"For this," Hanabikai said, risking his own life with his own lips. His body did not cooperate with each other – each body part seemed to hate each other now with a disgust that filled them to the brim with grudge and detestation. They stopped walking. Dylan and Lance were surprised to see a change in the flow they had built in just a couple of suspenseful minutes. They looked to what the council looked to at the same time, and saw a wide, enormous wall before them – the dead-end of the room that seemed to go on forever until hell. All the more reason to call it a hellhole. Thin, barely stable ribs of metal bars towered down and dug into the ground, barring something inside, encaging it innocently. Darkness was shredded between each bar, each pole, dimming the large prison behind them.
Dark, deviant eyes peered from the darkness, distorted horridly in a demonic disruption, staring blankly, dully with the intent of death in mind comprehending currently. A low growl came from the darkness, a growl of hate. A beast laid inside, a murderous, man-eating beast. "What…What is that?" Dylan asked scared, rubbing his own thin, lanky arms for warmth, for the air had grown eerily cold, suspiciously numbing. His eyes were locked in worry, as if he wanted to go under a rock and hide, hide himself so he wouldn't be seen by this – this monster peering back at them.
The Council stalled. Nothing but eerie silence filled the surroundings for a good couple of minutes. Not even the dripping of time or water dared to speak, dared to murmur a single word or syllable. "Jeremy," Shintenmaru answered.
PoVS
"It's been a long time since we went outside," Tsukansu said comfortably, easily, slipping on a new costume and old-style hat upon his head, as if to hide his identity. The orange, dark walls around them seemed to suffocate them, mold them until their horrible deaths. He clicked something at his waist, fixed his robes gently with strong fingers. The darkness crawled like listening spies around them, and they, knowing its presence, ignored it.
"Yeah," came his answer from Raikettei, fixing his own robes and hat as well, taking new clothes to disguise himself. A new costume gave him a new look; a new look gave him more comfort. He had never tolerated the fact that he was bald. Hanabikai leaned toward the darkness to pick something up and put it over him, to wear it.
"I barely remember what the sound of innocence is like," Tsukansu said nostalgically, telling nothing but the pure truth. Nothing but darkness and lies were around his life, nothing but hell and death.
"That's easy," Hyoumaru replied, chuckling in his own favor, thinking of what he was about to say before he said it. "Just think; it was poor you when you were a kid," Hyoumaru answered, then went back to chuckling ever so slightly, ever so carefully in the rising darkness. Tsukansu seemed to sneer; others laughed, happily, engulfed in their own nostalgia as well.
"I was naïve," Tsukansu said seriously now. "But; it has been a long time, hasn't it?" he went back to being cheery again. It was so strange how they could joke about the past like this, after what they've been through. He guessed it was something you could do after so many years of crying, cheering, and fighting. However, he still felt like they were just barely capable of making fun of what happened five hundred years ago. Just barely – it gave him no comfort, just bad memories. Bad memories he didn't want to hear of again. But with the Minors – wouldn't he have to?
"Too long if you ask me," Kakori replied, fixing his dark, green hinted hair. He pulled on his own bamboo hat to secure his identity. Half his friendly face was now shaded over and costumed, the other half barely dimmed like a moon's light below a cloud; an innocent smirk told the sign of kind purpose from under the hat. "Well then, I guess we should get going," he suggested, turning back as he was at the threshold of the significant door, watching to see if everyone was ready. He lifted his head to access his full view. Everyone leaned forward, closer. The door was big, yet not so much bigger than the other wooden doors. It was made purely of stone, as if someone were afraid that someone else would open it up and venture into the unknown.
"Yeah," agreed Tsukansu as his careful steps inched forward, step by careful step coming closer in the deep darkness. It was amazing how these councils could see, despite the horridly dimmed halls and walls, doors and floors. The rest of the team followed.
"Okay, then, I hope you guys are ready," Kakori said to the other five members of the team. Everyone seemed to nod, carefully, yet somehow carelessly. With a brush of a finger, Kakori tapped the stone exterior of the significant door. It opened with an unnatural creek, split from the middle. As its two sides diverged, yellow, mystifying light poured in from a sliver, and the sliver – it grew as well, grew like a mid-ocean ridge, the hot, bubbly lava of yellow light and swirling white world pouring in with its tremendous light that never ceased to fill the councils with great awe. They peered in; watched the swirling bright goldenrod yellow mix with the mysterious dimension of white waves. It churned before their very own powerful eyes, and gave a sense that it was more powerful than them – even if each one of them combined.
Carefully, they seemed to step in. They took their foot and placed it onto the golden, groundless surface. Kakori stepped out first. There was no visible floor; no regular dirt and ground to support their feet. They just remained grounded, calmly grounded as if they had done this a million times upon an invisible ground, an unfelt one as well, for if you reached down and tried to feel it, your hand would just sink down, sink to another level until you reached another surface. Soon, all six councils poured out, and automatically, the door that led to their old habitat of darkness closed, slid with a rumble. They were happy to be out; but they weren't just outside yet. No, not yet. They had left the Inner World most definitely. But they had not even taken a breath in the Outer World.
"Will we be all right?" Raikettei wondered, stepping closer to Kakori, careful not to get too far. He tipped his unnaturally darkened with shadow hat. Their figures were shaded as if they had stood under the highest tree in the world that followed them around; yet their surroundings did not accommodate. Their surroundings were nothing but a swirling dream of gold and swirl, a fantasy of contour white, a reverie of reality. Their shadows fell from their heads up instead of their feet down. Their steps made no noise; their voices echoed on for forever. There were no walls – no limits as how far you could run and how high you could fly. But at a certain point, you had to stop – if you wanted to exit.
"Yeah," Tsukansu answered casually around the glowering light around him. The hallucinating features grew more with their psychosis every second. "It's not too far from here," he informed as he took a step past Kakori. He was the leader now. His comfortable steps slid easily against the nonexistent ground. Soon, the team followed after exchanging similar glances with each other, a waste of time and union. "Oh yeah," Tsukansu almost forgot. Everyone looked up from their bamboo hats and thick clothing. They peered with dark faces, and wondered what was wrong. "When it comes," he began. "Let me handle it."
Hyoumaru sneered nostalgically and amusingly, a friendly scoff. "You're such a fun-hog," he spoke with certainty, noting that some characteristics of Tsukansu hadn't changed over the many years he had lived – which was both a good and bad thing.
Tsukansu sneered back, the same way as his partner. "It shouldn't be too hard," he suggested, walking more towards the middle of the lost whorls of light and golden yellow. The team followed with their paranormal shadows above them. It was like a mirror image casting a silhouette reflection placed above their heads. The top part above their heads seemed a bit glassy, too; the surrealism of it seemed far too hallucinated. The team somehow seemed to know their way around the objectless barren field of no surface, no sky, no boundaries at all. Just plain field – it wasn't even a plain field, it was more like an empty space of walking on air, like you were walking above the atmosphere and defying gravity with sure, amazing steps. It was like you were in outer space, and you saw nothing around you, and everything looked the same in every single direction. That was the feeling one could get from just being here. "Anyway, I got these," Tsukansu clicked two long shafts at his waist.
"Took them out again, huh?" Hyoumaru asked, remembering the times Tsukansu had used those two in battle. They were amazing! One could be envious of his specific weapons built by him by… it was forbidden to speak, or even think of anything like that past this point. Everything beyond the line Hyoumaru was just about to cross was just memories insane from recollection, memories just waiting, wanting to be forgotten, but never left – and as a result, could only be ignored. Hyoumaru cleared his throat, trying to return himself back to his regular norm and tempo he had been caught up in before.
Tsukansu scoffed friendlily once more. He smiled, gave a short, somewhat forced chuckle along with it. Eh, why not? Just throw forced laughter in, it won't make a difference. Then, Tsukansu's features went dark with notice, serious with a suspicious, crooked frown. His footsteps froze into a slump, not a nervous slump, but a watchful one. "Here it comes," he sensed, voice deep and grave.
"Yeah," Hyoumaru agreed just as stern, eyeing everything around him from left to right. His field of vision seemed too limited in the barren space of the surreal. The air shivered, coolly, coldly, and finally the council knew that there was such a thing as air in this part of the interface between the Inner and Outer Worlds. Or, was it that, something else was making it shiver, not the temperature? Temperature didn't exist here. Everything seemed perfectly out of place. Pigs flied and the value of a million became a million times more, and at the same time, a million times less. Some traced silhouette of transparency shimmered against the swirling whorls of gold and traced white. Layers upon transparent layers continued to move constantly like water, swimming like a liquid.
"You can never be too safe," Tsukansu informed the rest of the team behind him. Everyone stopped moving. They waited. "Here it comes," he told them. The air shivered once more, eerily, gravely. "Kakori," Tsukansu spoke sternly, peering to the left to catch a glimpse of the council in his eye. He thought he saw Kakori nod and then blink in preparation, cooling his thoughts from his mind as they slowly reached the surface and lost ignition.
"I got it," Kakori ensured. With a loud snap of his palms smacking together, he declared war; the battle began. Meanly, Kakori stared left to right, left to right, over and over again, searching for something, scanning for something. Then, he took his two palms in front of him apart and slammed them against the solid-nonsolid ground. They smacked with a horrid smack, and, if possible, bright stars poured from the ground surrounding the fingers and their silhouettes. They were all various colors, more than just the seven main branches of the rainbow. They were four-sided stars, too, glittering the surrealism of the world and blinking like real stars in the darkened night sky – except now, the sky was not jet black and devious – it was fantasized and glowing brightly on the face of the new sun reality.
The millions of them poured and swirled round and round, constantly dancing with each other, sleuthing for the presence of what they were looking for, what they knew was going to be in their way, for it had been in White Cloak's way once before. The six members of the Council peered from left to right, not even caring to turn their heads as they waited in the swirling light. The specks of neon gave off the brightest luster of the world, more beautiful than diamond – more praised than gold and its riches. Their costumes rendered their faces speechless, featureless, nothing left but the bottom half of your eyes and your nose, the bare lip of your upper mouth, all shaded over in dark secrecy. The eyes continued to dot around the interface of dimension.
"It's over there," Raikettei called out, lifting one arm casually and gesturing towards the left. His voice was somewhat hoarse, yet calm, cut, unworried and unalarmed. The sudden temporary change in outfit gave them a new demanding, grim tone to their faces, as well as their personalities. They had to remain in their own personalized secretion for they were going to the Outer World – "undercover." They didn't need useless beings walking up to them in praise and prayer. They only needed the few specific people they were to talk to to recognize them. That was all; that was it.
"Okay," Kakori spoke with a staid personality, completely unlike him. These Councils – not only were they great at fighting and controlling their powers, they were great actors, too! Who would've thought? With another slight clap of hands, like it was about to parade in swirling light, the stars and specks began to gather in one place only, and began to swirl around this one place magically, dancing in their own tornado tune of music. They glittered the space with decorative colors and gave a breathtaking performance of light and beauty, constantly gusting themselves in a trapping whirlwind of brightness. The thing was now trapped. And now, it roared – it roared horribly and dangerously inside the tornado. Just what was this thing? What will it do?