Cox clung to his gun and peaked around the corner. He looked into Demmel's eyes, and looked around the corner. He looked back into Demmel's eyes and looked around the corner again.
"What is it?" Demmel whispered.
Cox held up a finger and moved his lips.
Demmel understood the mouthing: "Take a look".
Cox shifted back and the Seeker took point, knife in hand. He turned two his two companions. "Stay here," he mouthed.
The bald man approached the two oddities while trying to remain calm. As a cultist he was used to seeing what many would faint to, but what was before him trumped all of his experience. Only through a strong will was he able to get closer without collapsing to the floor and screaming.
The two oddities towered above him. He was relatively short to most people, however he considered most people not as tall but of normal height. These two things, particularly the one on the left, towered over most people.
He stopped a few paces away from them, not wanting to appear threatening. At that thought he almost chuckled considering who-or what-he was up against. Yet he strongly preferred civility in this case.
The two things were at consoles filled with glyphs. Their long fingers snapped against the glowing marks as other glyphs danced across the walls, flashing in all manner of colors. A soft hum surrounded the room, increasing or decreasing as the glyphs shifted and shaped. Against the wall towered statues of what appeared to be a female guard of sorts. They stood upon thick bases, arms crossed against their chest, and legs crossed against the wall. Their dark gazes fixated upon the floor before them.
Demmel looked back to the corner where an impatient Cox glared at him. Demmel raised his finger and looked back to the two strange things busy at the consoles, marveling at who they might be. Were they the ancients he admired and looked for? Were these forms truly their perfect appearance? He had many questions, but surely there was a language barrier.
If there was a language barrier, then what the hell was he expecting by standing behind them? This was absolutely pointless. Then again, his other options were cowering behind a corner with Cox and the lady, or continuing through the complex and take the chance of encountering these two oddities again.
He was a cultist, a man of extreme science. He should-
The two oddities turned to look at him.
The oddity to the left, who had a machine body of a man mounted to a body of a spider at his waist, released long segmented tentacles from his spine and arachnid lower half. The shorter oddity to the right, dressed in some ancient royal garb complex and luxurious, raised a finger. The statues unfolded and stepped down from their pedestals. Eight of them went around the corner and faced the Captain and the Inquisitor, who drew their weapons.
The arachnid-humanoid-skeletal-machine thing approached the cultist, but was stopped by the other skeletal-machine thing. The ancient ruler approached the cultist. Even when squatting, the ruler towered over the cultist.
The cultist waved at the large figure and looked at the living statues surrounding them. Their skin was no longer like the metal of the room, but appeared to be a smooth golden flesh. He glanced back at ancient automaton ruler who mirrored his wave. Demmel stopped waving.
The ruler stopped waving and poked Demmel's stomach, almost knocking the cultist off his feet. The arachnid cleared its throat and the ruler chuckled.
"Hello," said Demmel.
"Hello," the ruler echoed.
"Pardon my companions and I for entering your house, it's just that there's something. . . ungodly outside, if that makes any sense." Demmel felt pure futility. Maybe the ruler said Hello because it couldn't understand him. His ears were ready to hear his words repeated to him.
The ruler stood up and looked to his arachnid partner. They chattered in an ancient tongue. By now, Cox and Lucy were behind Demmel, having walked to him under the stoic gaze of the statues.
To the two, the alien chatter was meaningless, but Demmel understood a few words here and there: "Thing. . . Outside. . . other Cryptek. . . forgotten. . . birth cake. . ."
Demmel wasn't too familiar with terms like "Cryptek" and was thrown off by "birth cake". Surely "birth cake" was code for something, or maybe he was just misinterpreting.
The arachnid turned to his console of glyphs and began tapping away, muttering words to it. His fingers snapped like lightning and his words crackled as thunder. He stopped, looked to the ruler, and muttered a few words. The ruler scratched his head and shrugged. The arachnid sighed.
He looked over at the three humans below and fully extended his segmented tentacles.
The ruler raised his hand. "Uh!"
The arachnid's gaze burned with a deity's rage.
Some of the statues around the three humans left the chamber and returned with a chair. They then rested it on the arachnid's second abdomen. The statues helped the ruler onto the throne, and the procession left the room.
The cultist stood there, frozen. "Not many can say they've met-"
"Iron Gods?" Cox said.
"Ancients."
"Close enough." Cox grinned. "I've witnessed many strange things in my life, but this week has trumped all." He looked over to the Inquisitor.
"I'd agree, to a degree though," Lucy said. "I've seen stranger things, yet I was familiar with them in some aspect. These past few days have been something else entirely."
"So what now?" said Demmel. "Continue on and maybe run into them again, or?"
"I say we head back to the APC, see if we can flip it over, and set up camp," Cox replied. "Or drive in somewhere and find a small room to stay in. Sure, smaller rooms are harder to fight in, but it would make watching all the corners much easier considering the situation we're in."
"It is preferable to be within a box within a box of enemies than to just be in a box of enemies."
Cox raised his brow. "Would you be so kind to repeat yourself in anything but gibberish?"
Lucy stepped between them. "Let's go."
The men nodded.
#
After a few hours of different, creative attempts, the party of three managed to flip the APC over and began to sort its scattered insides. Once the cabinets were re-organized and the mess of items was set on a tarp outside, Cox and Lucy checked the engine and left Demmel to do as he wished. Cox didn't trust the cultist tampering with what could possibly be their only ticket to survival.
Demmel wasn't too offended, as he now had more time to study their surroundings. However, he prioritized meditating on Ancients' conversation. The ruler seemed to have an affinity for cake, and seeing how the ruler curbed the arachnid's temper Demmel concluded that the two were searching for none other than a birthday cake. Whether or not this was code for something truly eldritch-perhaps a term for what was outside or a weapon to counter the chaos-Demmel wasn't sure.
Demmel then wondered why the two automatons were searching this old place. Maybe it was their home and they had simply misplaced this, 'birthday cake'. Or maybe, assuming the term was literal, they were searching for actual cake or the ingredients. Or maybe the cake was a misinterpretation due to a dialect different to what Demmel understood.
The Seeker was a man of extreme science, of dangerous discovery. If he were not a cultist, he would sit there and talk among the other two, who for sure had less of a clue about this "cake" than he did. He would then spend hours upon hours of research, trying to find answers while doing his best for everyone's safety.
The Seeker did not prioritize safety among his many interests.
He looked back at the open back doors of the APC. "Need any assistance soon?"
"No thank you!" said Cox. "We're fine. Stay out of trouble."
The short bald man grinned. Resisting nature by avoiding trouble would only increase their chances of getting into it. Might as well dive into oblivion head first.
"Pardon me-"
"WHAT?!" Cox's voice echoed in the APC.
"I'm just going to find a place to relieve myself."
"Wonderful. Just be back by supper or I'm leaving you in here to die."
Demmel grinned. "Because apparently you've known where we've been all along and just pretended to be completely clueless!"
The adventurer growled within the armored chassis.
The Seeker knew what to do: find the two automatons and talk to them. They did appear threatening and horrifying, but then again, the rooms were immense. Maybe they were just a bit taller than he was, and the room made them seem huge. Maybe some of that blue glowing fluid was in the air, or some other substance. Regardless, he would find them and ask what they were searching for.
He pulled hood over head and charged into the depths of the complex. He slowed to a light jog as he wandered the labyrinth. He knew well enough that he would eventually be lost, but when was being lost bad? He grinned. This was more like it. The on-the-edge philosophy of discovery sent his heart racing. His world would burn, but he would know why and how. He would know how to stop it from burning, and to set it burning again. Knowledge was power. Years of observation taught Demmel that gaining power was merely a part of nature.
He would be following the most natural of processes: get big, get powerful, dispense strength, and then rest. Life and death summarized. He would use strength to get further strength. How he'd use it, he had a few ideas. He would decide when he got there. No point in wasting time and energy planning only to have it dashed by a small error or misfortune.