The Inquisitor, Cultist, and Adventurer were possessed by the exotic beauty of the room. The Adventurer had seen rooms like it at the base of the mountain, but none were as beautiful as this one. The way the ceiling twinkled, the glyphs on the walls slowly pulsed in brightness to a silent rhythm, the gradual change of colors, the dark glassy surface of the floors and walls, and the fluorescent blue liquid flowing from the fountain seduced him.

The Cultist approached the fountain and observed the flow of the water. It flowed not downward, but upward. It leapt up from the base pool and into the sockets of skulls surrounding the higher pools before lunging into the air and back down into the mouth of a standing humanoid statue. It reminded him of the one in the swamps where the pilgrims before him built the House of Holies hundreds of years ago. While the swamp fountain was massive enough to use as the base structure of the first true temple, this fountain was far more elaborate in the various skulls and creatures posing in the pools, frozen in strange dances.

The fountain in the swamp did not have flowing blue liquid like this one, and what this liquid was and what it did was a mystery to Seeker Demmel. He tore off a piece of his sleeve and dipped it into the pool, expecting it to be subject to some destructive force, desolving, shriveling, boiling, and so forth. He turned away, fearing what fumes may come of the reaction. The cloth soaked up the blue liquid and glowed. Demmel pulled out the cloth, holding his robe against his nose.

The cloth pulsated for a moment, and stopped. The liquid withdrew itself from the cloth and poured upward to a higher fountain pool. Years of wear and tear on the cloth had vanished. To this the Seeker to raised a brow. He looked at his companions, still wandering around, no eyes on the towering fountain that made the armored vehicle seem as small as a kitten. With no one paying attention, the Seeker climbed onto the edge of the lowest pool. He inhaled deeply and jumped.

Cox did not let the splash steal his attention from this find. His conscience insisted that he not rub his hands against the glyph-covered walls, but the glyphs' fascinating nature begged him to reach out and touch it.

At first he thought they were holograms, but when he touched the walls he realized they were in the stone itself, carved. He traced his finger through a curve and the glyph changed shape, the wall's carving shifting at the touch. "Hey, Lucy! Take a look at this!"

"I saw already!" Her voice did not echo in the vast room. The two looked around.

The fluid dripped up from his bare scalp as he climbed out of the pool. The liquid pulled up and away from him into the higher pool. Demmel took the torn cloth and the ripped sleeve and dipped it into the blue liquid. He pressed the ragged edges against each other as he dipped. He drew the sleeve from the blue liquid and it was mended, the torn piece part of the sleeve once more.

"Here's a down ramp!" the Inquisitor said. Cox looked over and saw her standing in a large threshold, looking around the corner. "We could drive the APC down this way."

"Why would we drive in here?" Cox approached from behind. "I doubt we'll find fuel."

"Likewise, I don't think the liquid in the fountain will be good for fuel." The short bald man approached from behind, looking a few years younger and in better health. "I don't want to see what happens when such chemistry is made to combust. Not until we can experiment with it properly."

"Experiment?" Lucy was intrigued.

"When you're a fanatic, you need to know what works and what doesn't. Otherwise you're better off jumping into a lake of fire and hoping for the best, and even that's finding out what works and what doesn't. What do you think human sacrifices are? Just wasting life? They're experiments. Sometimes we need to cut up a person to see if flesh and blood will activate the artifacts, and when we do cut up a body its much easier to burn it on the altar rather than take the risk of mass graves being found and our subtle activities being taken out of proportion by the public."

She glared at the short bald man.

He shrugged. "Infidels wouldn't understand."

"How long have you been a cultist?"

"I was a chemistry major," he replied. "Had a few PhD's in other fields. And if you're wondering, it was the gung-ho discovery philosophy that drew me. Secular science is too slow, religious science too restrictive, but Cult science is fast-paced and exciting! Rather than sit in an office and watch footage over and over again, I can do the same experiment again and again! There's no need to restrict ourselves for safety! No need to speed months filling out waivers and talking to lawyers! It's science in the raw!"

Lucy looked to Cox, who shrugged. "I'm a little gung-ho myself, but unlike him I prefer to have some standards. An adventurer without honor is a marauding villain." Cox looked to Seeker Demmel. "No hard feelings."

The Seeker was already halfway down the ramp to the turn at the end. He turned around. "Why don't you lead then?"

"Let me grab my gun."

They followed the twisting ramp deeper down into the mountain. Cox walked in front, but leadership was in the hands of Demmel, discouraging Cox from straying into rooms along the walls and drinking water flowing down a trench in the middle of the ramp. After descending dozens of flights, Demmel had the party turn toward a tunnel opening at the side.

Cox looked back. "And we should trust you because?"

"I've been in places like this before," said Demmel. "I thought you already know that."

Cox grimaced. "Watch your tone."

Demmel looked at Lucy and she shrugged.

The cylindrical tunnel had a bitter, clean scent. So far the interior complex was sterile. There was no dirt or dust, no mold or fungus, just dark with a lukewarm, dry atmosphere. Cool breezes brushed past the three in rhythm to the pulse of the glyphs. The complex seemed to be alive.

"It wasn't this active when we were digging," Cox said. He looked at Demmel.

"No idea."

The three continued walking but then stopped. Down the corridor they heard the mumbling of voices and metallic squeaks.

Cox threw Demmel to the back of the formation and had them press against the concave side of the tunnel. Cox and Lucy took off the safety on their guns and they trotted with light steps toward the end of the corridor. Near the tunnel's end, Cox stopped the group, readied his weapon, and popped out around the corner. Another ramp leading down, however it lead into a large room with various towering structures. He motioned for the other two to follow him. Lucy handed Demmel a combat knife.

The three trotted out the tunnel, across the ramp, to an opposing wall. They descended the ramp to the bottom. Cox raised his fist, inched toward the corner, and peaked around.

He almost dropped his gun.