The word spread quickly across Yharim's ranks. He'd settled battle within the dungeon, to take down the specter. The Cultist would want his subject back, Laurence's power. He couldn't stay within the capitol, The Dungeon's extremely keen sense of magic could let them bypass any protection and thieve swiftly, same goes with any other location. He had to be sent along down there with heavy protection.
Rumors were that Braelor and Statis would arrive there too, but for what purpose?
"Lloyd, I can trust this task on you. The eastern city is where they contain all their projects. Find as many eidolists or eidolon subjects and bring them back to me. There will be a small team to help you." Yharim spoke.
"Of course," Responded Lloyd, "I can assure you it will be done as you asked."
"...Yharon, The Dungeon keeps malignant forces everywhere all the time. There's no telling what schemes they have. If distress is called, you must intervene."
"Understood, Master."
On the day of the mission, all members of the special division were sent through the fleet as military squadrons were sent in armored vehicles that trekked the ground. The morning sun blazed the canopy and provided shade for those down under. From atop, Laurence felt the bursts of wind stagger across him as he stared away at the landscape under the ship. Rivers slashed the land into segments, flowing from stiff edges to rounded curves. The clouds wisped by them like ghosts, as their raindrops scattered against the metal reinforcements.
"So...you're finally goin' back to where you were made..." Kade said to Ren, "Maybe you'll get to know more about yourself ther-"
"Don't...say that," Said Taph.
"Hm?"
"It's a miracle Ren even survived. I've gathered dozens of souls of The Dungeon before, but only a few pass on every year. They explain its one of the most painful ways to die, and I time them they're lucky to even pass. The Dungeon is called by many, An Artificial Hell. Those who are tainted with fervor are forced in limbo, experiencing their nightmares over and over again for the rest of eternity."
Laurence stood quiet. He couldn't talk against that place, he couldn't remember anything, just knowing it was pain. But he wanted to know now, he wanted to understand his past, no matter how much horror resided there.
Did he change?
He didn't have enough time to think. They had arrived.
It was vile. A ruckus, misshapen mess. An undercroft of barbed thorn wires shrouded in a musky grey fog. The trees were withered, skeletons, looking as if they'd been burnt. But he stood strong and faced forward. The teams escorted them to a bored tunnel with another elevator shaft down.
The Stench.
Oh, it was terrible. Rancid. Absolutely disgusting. Dampening and sticking your lungs in toxins. He wanted to hurl, though he had already digested that meal. The ground was vicious in a slick, tar substance. Leaking from the ceiling rot bled from the lines. The only light was the ones provided by the soldiers around them. One of them already had to pause and vomit from the mere smell. This was only a hallway. Laurence feared the worst for what would come next.
It did not disappoint.
A rotunda, from what he could make up. Half of the wall had collapsed, and the carvings eroded into a pictureless mess. Occasional rattling could be heard around the proximity, the soldiers frantically shining their lights around to reveal what was hidden. A skeleton it was, not much taller than him, splattered in old blood and slowly approaching. Another arose, dawning a dilapidated and rusted set of helmet and cuirasses, wielding a sword in one hand. They tried to swing at them but were quickly dispatched by the soldiers' armaments.
*(RATTLE)*
*(CLANK)*
From the walls and the desiccated mortars dozens of skeletal hands and limbs tore out, climbing and squeezing through the stone, their bones snapping and armors screeching. They held an assortment of weapons, from maces to great axes to daggers to blades. Skeleton spellcasters teleported into sight, their dark magicks readied.
"Don't worry, I got this."
Vulcan approached and stepped out the phalanx. Pulling off one of his gloves, he raised the hand forth. Suddenly, every weapon each skeleton held vibrated furiously and were heaved away and into his palm. They mollified into a liquid alloy and from the metallic meld discharged a storm of metal darts forthwith, puncturing the skeletons, fracturing their skulls, knocking them apart.
Kade went in to crush the shambling bones, his new blade a pale greatsword traced in pulsing blue runeworks, an incandescent gemstone embedded on its hilt. White water bolts spat out from the blade and engulfed the undead in boiling pain, as the phalanx overwhelmed the spellcasters easily.
Laurence waited from within the crowd, peeking through whatever space could be found to see the activity. It was not like he could do much anyway, an entire array surrounded him and they surely would prevent him from scrambling off. Did he even have a chance on uncovering anything? Whatever. The stink and dampness disabled him from concentrating, perhaps there could be a way out later on.
Perhaps it was best to leave Cthulhu from this place, he would find it as a way to build his vessel and most likely disrupt his unearthing. He did feel like he changed. A few strings cut off. He became closer to this plane, for the first time he had something to look out for. That by itself made him feel more real. More Human.
He did change.
A warm spark dashed through the next hallway leading forward. The clank of heavy armor through each step of a march filled in the silence. Soldiers cocked their rifles and stanced up. A sizzle of fire cracked in the distance as the light trailed faster and faster through the hallway. A wheel of fire, not attached to anything but a singular wheel ran rampant, straight forward the phalanx. Soldiers frantically scurried apart, some scuffing the floor, the wheel blazing out back into the hallway they came from. They parted away, stomping out the flames.
Another set of foes stalked out, four skeletons completely ignited in flame, their hellish armor and weaponry cast in hot orange steel. They guarded another skeleton dressed in priestly robes and clenching a red pitchfork as a staff. It waved the fork up in the air and spun it at them. A slow ball of fire paced out from the prongs and approached sluggishly. The crowd looked in confusion, before the ball grazed the ground and combusted into an inferno.
*(BOOM)*
Two men were caught up in the radius and wailed in pain, the heat easily thawed their armor as others around them tried to put it out. The hell bones charged out, flailing their molten weapons in rage. Bullets couldn't phase them, their bodies were already amorphous but kept from cooling or misshaping by strong cursed. Kade jabbed his blade into one of the skulls, but it merely slipped out and patched up the wound. It swung its mace into his stomach, branding his jacket with a molten imprint. Kade tumbled back, then coated his skin in hallowed bulwark. The turmoil destroyed the phalanx formation.
Laurence spotted the skeleton in priestly robes stride to him, pointing a disheveled finger at him. It charged up its pitchfork while he pulled out his own. The ball drifted forward and combusted, Ren fell to the floor, nearly evading it.
'cmon, did I really just forget everything that was taught? Get your shit together, Ren.
He stormed back and angled the furicus in front of him. The skeleton, though a skilled mage, had no fighting chance against him. Their prongs clashed and before he knew it he hastily severed the skull and kicked apart the ribs.
huh...guess I have two pitchforks now.
The surrounding hell bones began to lose shape as a single swing turned them into a puddle of lava. Once everyone had disinfected each others wounds they moved on, deeper into the labyrinth.
Braelor dropped down from the chasm, his greaves sinking in the much knee deep, five men heavily armored following quickly behind.
"Statis, update on squads."
Statis appears through a deep purple smoke, clad in shinobi equipment and otherworldly purple and teal cloth.
"Squads one, two, three, five and the execution team have descended and are currently in their respective zones. Four is currently descending and six has an issue with one of the men."
"What about arsenal? Enough onyx shotguns? Ammo shortages?"
"No sir...it looks like we're all set."
Braelor always hated this place. Even with a filter mask he could still slightly smell the putrid stench. The knee-deep lake of rot, blood, mud, or whatever shit was in there nearly seeped into his boots. Sections of the walls where degraded to gravel and would cave in with a single push. A hell-hole that never ended, twisting into ludicrous passageways that were barely depictable as dead ends or exits. And with every turn the irritating chatters and snaps of skeletons could be heard everywhere and never stopped.
"Oi, didn't know you guys would come."
From roof of the corridor dropped down Lloyd, coagulated blood forming a crimson carapace of demonic horns around his head. From behind him, a legion of hell bones and diabolists followed.
"They listen to you?" Braelor questioned.
"I am of The Great Wall, demons worship my presence. What brings you here then."
"Your new division member, he's too much of a risk to be kept by my opponent. I've struck with the cultists, to say least."
"Huh, g'luck tryin'...you have no idea what you're after is."
Braelor scoffed. Sheathed on his back he pulled out two pairs of tarragon sickles, each pair bound together with a chain attaches on the hilt. He lurched forward, the dimmed waterlights only illuminating a silhouette, making his presence more beast than man. His armor was built in barbed layers, a draconic-like style.
Lloyd tilted his head down and grinned. Blood packed his entire body as he summoned the legion of hell bones forth.
Kade and Taph paced through empty rooms. They couldn't trace everywhere so they had to split up, the specter had to begin a hunt eventually. Everyone treated him like a leader or something, little did they know he was just as lost as they were and he was only being sensible. He knew Yharim didn't ploy the mission just to execute that haunt, there would be several other missions he had to have for this opportunity.
Whatever they were, either way, no good outcome would come for Ren.
He seemed to know better of his position then he knew himself. The eidolons and other cultists experiments were myths told to scold children. About how within the deepest chambers of the dungeon, there are poor souls mutated into monsters kept away, never to be seen or heard. Of course, those stories never highlighted how gruesome and horrid their fates were.
How it was to be Raptured in such a dreadful way.
That thing he said on the trip here, he just tried to comfort him. Whatever possible choices he makes, it'll always bring him to him realizing his experience here. Whatever he feels after that, Kade new he would never be the same.
Ren began to lose sense.
It felt like they had been running through the same goddamn rooms for hundreds of times. Every separate passage led them right back to the beginning. Nobody talked, only the drip from the ceilings and the creaking of the doors serenaded his ears.
"Hey...Vulcan right? Where the hell are we goin'?" Ren asked,
"No idea."
Footsteps emerged behind him, heavy ones, unlike the soldiers.
Wait...nobody was behind me...right?
The lock of a forend echoed, he turned back to he a barrel aimed at his skull.
*(BAM)*
The slug shattered his head apart as his upper body was torn to pieces.