Clang! Clang! Clang!
White fluorescent lights flickered on around a steel-lined gray antechamber, introducing Sam to a world diametrically opposed to the stony tomb she knelt within. The white illumination revealed a corrugated metal ladder that descended from the hole, leading down five feet into the chamber's foyer. Twenty meters in diameter total, the circular room centered about one specific feature: A titanium cylinder, large enough to hold at least ten grown men, lit up with sterile white spotlights around it that gave Sam the chilling feeling that she was intruding on memories long since buried.
Something wasn't right here.
"Firth?" Sam piped up. "I need you in here…"
"What is it?" he replied curiously from outside.
"Just come in."
As Firth wedged his way into the stone crypt, Sam's eyes just made out writing above the cylinder as she craned her neck for a better look. It wasn't much, but the few words revealed something strange – and undeniably creepy – about the chamber.
TO: DESCENT
"Jeez," Firth exclaimed as he wiped dust off his shirt, getting a good look at the skeletal body. "Is that…"
"That doesn't matter," Sam breathed. "Look at this."
Firth stared slack-jawed down the hole Sam had made. He said nothing for a full minute, letting his eyes take in the scene and stare about at the antechamber. The revelation of the hidden room – so unlike anything else on the desert island, and completely unexpected – had taken both former tributes off guard.
"Well, might as well take a deeper look," Firth finally said.
Before Sam could reply, Firth turned around, placed his hands on the ladder, and slid down into the hole.
"Wait – wait for me!" Sam panicked. She didn't want to be left alone with the skeleton – not when so much more lay just before her eyes.
Without further ado, Sam leapt feet-first down the hole, clutching to the ladder as she slid down the entrance. The metal felt alien in her palms – too clean for the dirty, ancient environment above, as if someone had cared for it despite its history. The air in this place felt just off, like a smudge in the corner of a master work of art. This place had meant to stay hidden - not to be breached by those above.
Yet Nihlus's words rang true more and more. Clearly this wasn't coincidence.
"What do you think 'descent' leads to?" Firth asked inquisitively, looking at the wording above the open silver cylinder. "Some sort of underground thing?"
A part of Sam wanted to hold back – to reject this foolish notion, to meet up with the others and say they'd found nothing. To embrace what little security could be found on this island…yet the rest of her urged her on. The "dark seed" of her soul; that's what Vespasian had called it. It called out to her, hungry to reveal what lay below – desperate to see what others had not, the instincts of an explorer finally freed from the clutches of restraint.
"Only one way to find out," Sam replied to Firth. "Let's see."
She shouldn't have been surprised by Firth's shrug and acceptance, yet it still came as a shock. The others who had loved her – and she'd loved back – had always exercised caution. Even Clay, to an extent, had kept his reservations close at hand, despite his freewheeling nature. His upbringing amid the poorer sections of District 10, so opposed to her own father's wealth and relative prosperity, had established a security divide between the two. Yet Firth, unlike Clay and Storm and Cal, had never felt the need to cling to security. He was ready to charge ahead and see what lay beyond the shadows – and after two Hunger Games and numerous brushes with death, Sam was ready to do the same.
The two entered the cylinder, pausing to inspect the interior. Sam quickly recognized it for what it was: an elevator. She'd only been in elevators a few times in her life, but it was impossible to mistake the surroundings for anything else. The panel of buttons with open, close, and directional buttons; the soft overhead lighting – all of it lined up with what she'd seen in the Training Center back in the Capitol. Even the soft gray interior of the elevator matched the same one she'd ridden down for training before the Games, reflecting an eerie vibe between the two distant locales.
Yet one thing did stand out – this elevator had only two floors. One discharged its guests in the antechamber here; the other led to places yet unseen.
"Looks like there's only one floor," Sam muttered, hitting the button and noting the silent close of a pair of hydraulic gray doors. "Hope it's the right one."
"If not, it's a pretty poorly designed elevator," Firth mused. "Where the heck were they trying to go? I didn't see any welcome centers back up top."
"I guess we'll find out," Sam wryly replied.
The elevator cab took off in a hurry, performing flawlessly despite the age of the hermitage above. A gliding swish sent the two down, causing Sam's ears to pop with pressure as they descended. The elevator came to an abrupt halt after thirty seconds, opening its doors to the lower level and revealing a brand new world to Firth and Sam.
"Welcome to the Mount Alvernia habitation retreat," a charming, sing-song female voice greeted them as they got off the elevator. "Please proceed to docking for descent. On-site guide personnel will assist you. Children must be supervised by appropriate guardians. Be prepared for a security checkpoint upon arrival. Have GA identification cards ready for presentation."
The sight was baffling. A tall overhang of steel girders revealed an expansive foyer, roomy enough to hold more than a hundred people. Synthetic white walls merged into the titanium floor panels, bathing the scene in neutral colors. Bright, hot lights shone down on Firth and Sam, targeting them as they walked out from the elevator. A small hallway retreated to their left; to their right, wide, expansive steps led down to a darkened platform.
"What is this?" Firth wondered out loud. "Was this made back during the Dark Days? Before?"
"I don't think this is something new," Sam mused.
She wandered down the hall to the left, poking her head around the corner. The white walls morphed into a computer-laden security center, ostensibly present to monitor new arrivals.
The man on duty wouldn't be checking in anyone anytime soon.
"Oh God," Sam put a hand to her lips as she surveyed the long-dead body in front of her, swathed in some sort of strange white apparel. "There's someone here…he's…"
Firth joined up, gritting his teeth as he noticed the corpse. "He's been dead a while. This isn't recent."
He jogged up to check out the corpse as Sam observed the security room in detail. The computer consoles were no longer working, having run out of power ages ago. Lights were dimmed, still functional yet clearly on their last legs. Three plush chairs sat unattended, waiting for occupants who would never return. Whoever had once supervised this place, they had long since disappeared – taking the secrets of this strange installation with them.
Sam picked up something from the floor near the skeleton – a black rectangular prism, covered in black ridges running up from the surface. She located a red button near the bottom of the device, throwing caution to the wind and pressing it hard.
A winding sound activated, giving way to a deep, baritone, male voice, speaking with a heavy accent: "I never thought we'd need this place...never thought we'd have to go this far. 'McIlroy,' Haruspex told me. 'This is a last resort. Only if the bombs hit, if the plagues strike…it's a precaution. We're hedging mankind.' Funny. I'm a little worried now…now that the bombs hit; now that the plagues struck. Was the last resort supposed to come? Last resort or not…don't count me confident in this sea of dreams."
"What do you think that means?" Sam said as the recording ended. "Bombs? Maybe it is from the Dark Days."
"Sam," Firth exhaled as he searched the skeleton's white clothing. "This…this isn't old."
"What?"
"This ID card," Firth pulled out a small, laminated white slip from the clothing's pocket. "I've seen my mom and dad with something like this. It's from the Capitol, back earlier right after they'd won their Games…this was a Peacekeeper. His suit's not new, but…he could be from some time earlier. His ribs are broken. It's like – I don't know, it's like someone smashed them in, or something did. Probably punctured his heart."
Sam didn't have to go far to find answers. Her eyes wandered up the wall, reaching the gray titanium ceiling. Someone had crudely carved words into the metal – and it didn't take her long to figure out who.
NO PURPOSE IN FAILURE
"He's been here," Sam said slowly, her eyes widening.
"What?" Firth replied. "Who?"
"Nihlus," Sam breathed. "I…Firth, he's watching us! He wants us to be here, the crash wasn't an accident…"
"Sam, slow down," Firth replied. "Who is Nihlus? Can you just tell me?"
"Firth," Sam said slowly, hesitant to reveal what she knew. "He's…he's not like us. He's – I don't know if he's with the Capitol or not, but he's been following me since I became a victor. He's something they cooked up, something bad. Like a mutt, but worse – and a person, but only sort of. I don't know, I can't explain him…I just want to get away from him, but I can't. I can't. He's followed me everywhere for the past year and a half."
"Hey," Firth moved in, grabbing hold of Sam before she could burst into tears from the stress. "I don't know about any of this, but listen – wherever we are now, whatever all this is…we'll figure out a way out, okay? Just stick with me, Sammy."
Sam sniffed. "You've never called me that before."
"What?"
"Sammy. My brother always calls me that…Clara did, too."
"Well," Firth smiled. "New thing, maybe. C'mon – let's go check out what the other side of this place had. Nothing for us here, anyway."
Sam nodded, pushing herself up and avoiding looking at the skeleton –or the ceiling. She'd had enough of Nihlus's games.
Lights clanged on as the two made their way across the foyer to the right of the descent elevator. The broad steps, coated in white synthetic plaster, dropped down to another platform, flanked by a second flight of falling stairs. As the final row of lights came on and the salty smell of sea water snaked its way up Sam's nose, the reality of the situation – and the location itself – came into play.
"Is that…" Sam gasped with awe.
A final overhead light clicked on, bathing the area with fluorescent white illumination. A large pool of dark ocean stretched before the two, fifty meters in diameter and reaching below the raised foyer they'd just been previously standing on. Several arms of floor, positioned like docks for sailing ships, reached out into the pool – all empty but one. Positioned alongside that lone dock in the center of the pool, waiting like a lone, forgotten sentinel, was an elongated, cylindrical submersible.
The word finally made sense. Descent.
There was something beneath all this – far beneath. This station, this…place, that Nihlus had touched long ago – this only brushed upon the surface, only introduced the first line of answers that would only reveal themselves beneath the lapping salt water of this brackish sea. Nihlus had clearly intended this – no doubt long ago he'd breached these watery barriers, found out what secrets there were below himself.
Now he expected Sam to do the same – and that "dark seed," the same one that relished victory and exploration, cried out for more. It demanded answers, demanded to know what Nihlus had understood – craved the reasons why he always stayed one step ahead of the others. There was only one way to find out.
"We have to tell the others about this," Sam said quietly. "I have to know."