Thank you all as always for your comments; I'm glad you're all still enjoying it! This took so long, but I hope it was worth the wait - more Fi and Link, and a big boss fight to boot!

Chapter 50: Moldarach

The spiral ramp Link had descended ended in a blank wall at the bottom, the only door he had seen a huge one set into the outer wall a short distance before it. Puzzled, if relieved that he didn't yet have to choose a path, he turned and walked back to it, already beginning to look for a lever at its side that might allow him to open it.

Master, Fi said silently, visual observation of the lighting in this descent indicates that power continues to flow to the interior of the facility. Additionally, I detect the flow of current in multiple locations, confirming this observation. There is a 65% chance that the remote operation mechanism of this door remains operational.

"So you might be able to open it?" Link's voice echoed mutedly around the hollow spiral. He stepped back from the door, taking Fi at her word. "Do you sense anything on the other side?"

I do not detect any significant immediate threats, Master, although there are a small number of lifesigns. Your caution is commendable.

Link smiled, and the door in front of him opened, grating and stiff with a squeal of protesting metal. For an instant, the space beyond seemed dark – then light flickered into being from somewhere above, and he stared. The hall before him was so huge that he could scarcely believe it was underground, strange and heavy noises of machinery somehow muffled in the vast space. Great strips of machinery rolled belts wide enough to stand on along past various other mechanisms, beneath chutes, into hoppers, in and out of walls… None of it served any purpose Link could immediately understand, but it was clearly meant for transporting something around so that various other things could be done to it. Rocks, presumably, and Timeshift Stone.

Wide enough or not, the belts did not seem like an appealing place to stand.

"Any idea which way we should go, Fi?" He was murmuring only softly, expecting echoes in the immense hall, but his voice fell away into nothingness.

I detect a form of signage on the wall immediately behind us, Master.

Surprised, Link turned to look, seeing – of all things! – what looked for all the sky like a noticeboard, rectangular outlines coated in soft dust. Beside it, there was a diagram of some kind, perhaps once brightly coloured; beside that, there was what looked like a list of some sort, three separate columns of text beside one another. Fi sprang from the sword with a faint chime, floating beside him.

"Close visual analysis suggests that the central and rightmost items are a map and its key. The material from which they are made is essentially imperishable under these conditions. I recommend cleaning them to obtain further information about the optimal route. The items on the noticeboard on the left, however, are likely to be in a state of advanced disintegration. Sophisticated methods would need to be employed to render them fully readable without causing irreparable damage to the text."

"So I shouldn't touch them, huh. Can you read any of it?" As he spoke, Link swept his left hand over the surface of the central one, the map. Dust billowed off in a cloud, and he struggled not to sneeze.

"With continued analysis, I predict a 90% probability that I will be able to decipher a sufficient fraction of the text to infer meaning. Based on the position of the noticeboard, I extrapolate that it was intended for the workers here to leave important information and other notices in a format not dependent on the supply of electrical power."

Link nodded, scrubbing the surface of the map cleaner with the side of his fist. Bright colours revealed from beneath the dust, it was very different from the maps he was used to. Despite himself, he sneezed, once, twice, three times in the dusty air, but the sneezes, too, were lost into silence rather than echoing back. Stepping back, he looked at his handiwork, Fi floating next to him and staring at the noticeboard. Bright and incomprehensible, single symbols were marked on it at various points, surrounded by yellow rings. Link focused on one of them, trying to commit it to memory. If the list beside the map was a key, as Fi had said, then maybe the circled symbols that looked sort of like labels would appear on it somewhere.

He stepped sideways, taking a deep breath and holding it, this time, before swiping the worst of the dust from the list: it was every bit as bad as the map had been, a cloud rising from it and settling across him, across everything. Breathing out hard, he scrubbed his face off with his right hand, rewarded when he took his next cautious breath by not instantly sneezing again. Like the map, the text of the list was in multiple colours, seemingly section by section. If the blue sections of the list corresponded to the blue sections of the map… well, Link still couldn't read any of it, but it felt like a reasonable supposition. Perhaps he could match some of the single symbols to the ones on the map?

He'd found two and was feeling quietly pleased with himself when Fi drifted back from the noticeboard and turned to face him.

"I have completed a comprehensive analysis of the surviving text on the noticeboard, Master. The most significant notice warns of a structural instability requiring remedial work in what is referred to as the 'Temple branch'. The date on the notice is within the same timeframe as the catastrophic shutdown event. I calculate a 94% probability that the remedial work was not fully completed."

Once again, Link felt his heart sink. "That's going to be between us and the Temple of Time, isn't it?"

He felt a momentary shift in Fi's attention before she nodded. "The map confirms that your supposition is correct." She drifted closer, gesturing elegantly with the flowing draperies of her arm. "Each colour indicates a separate vertical level of this region of the facility. This level, coloured in blue, is the one most relevant to you. In particular, this passage is marked as leading to the Temple of Time."

Link's eyes were drawn to one of the passages, but Fi's accompanying gesture, subtle as it was and made with as broad a sleeve as it was, could have meant anything.

"This one?" he asked, stepping closer to point, careful not to hit her – or pass through her, really, he supposed.

"That is correct, Master Link."

"Could you… point a little more clearly?"

Fi seemed to consider this question as if the idea had never occurred to her before.

"No, Master," she said, after a brief pause. "Although this shape is similar to yours, it does not possess hands. I do not have the capacity to affect the outer world directly save through communication. In order to indicate to you, I drew your attention to the correct element of the map through our connection. Was this indication insufficient?"

"No, it was fine." Link stumbled over his words slightly. He couldn't say how, but something about Fi's explanation struck him as inexpressibly sad. "I just… you know. I felt like you were pointing it out to me, but I couldn't see that you were. So I guess I was worried I'd be wrong. And I…" He hesitated, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say. "If you ever want me to do something…"

Fi turned, descending, and all at once her face was directly before his, young and ancient, forever calm, almost human and yet so very, very strange. Link blinked, but didn't pull back, holding her blank blue gaze.

"Your concern is a consequence of your character, and thus to be commended. However, I was created in this fashion for a specific purpose. To provide me with unnecessary functionality would increase the risk of deviation from that purpose. This would reduce your probability of success drastically."

"Fi…" Link wasn't sure what to say, let alone how to say it. It seemed important that he say something: whatever it was that gave Fi's ever-calm expression the faint hint of warmth he sometimes thought he felt seemed to be fading into something distant and cold, not quite that crushing stillness he had felt a few rare times before, but not far from it, as if some sort of precipice had been approached but not yet crossed.

Fi's thoughts skated around the danger of increased processing errors in a rapid, almost jolting fashion. One of the many items of knowledge in her vast database was the presumption, not fully supported to the degree that she would assess it as definitely factual, but of high probability, that the extra functionality Ghirahim possessed had been an integral factor in his fall. Her opposite number was able to take solid form, blade wielded in his own hand: the ability to do so would doubtless provide a being capable of experiencing temptation with one extremely powerful. By contrast, and almost certainly as a consequence, she had been designed deliberately to be incomplete without a wielder. Not only was she designed to be incapable of experiencing temptation, she was also designed to be incapable of acting on it even if she did, an extension of her wielder's will.

Analyses containing significant reference to Ghirahim, simultaneously with the concept of making a request of her wielder, most likely carried a high probability of processing failure.

"Fi?"

Less than 1.5 seconds had passed since he had last spoken, and that in the drawn-out fashion called 'trailing off'. Such a delay was not typically considered a significant pause under the circumstances, according to her cultural database. Moreover, her master was exhibiting increased concern. Had he in some way detected the increased danger of processing errors? Fi had no way of estimating the degree to which she was damaged; however, she assigned increased weight to the concept of it being greater than minor.

"Yes, Master Link?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No new errors have been detected in my programming, Master. However, I did infer an increased risk of encountering a processing error as a consequence of the conversation to this point."

"What? Why? I mean, you don't have to talk about it…" He'd only offered to do something for her if she ever wanted, no different to his mind to fetching something from a high shelf or ringing the Airshop bell for the smaller students and the local children. But then he remembered again the burning mountain heat, a river of lava flowing before him, everything shimmering in the heat haze, and Fi emotionlessly assessing his chances.

I calculate that there is a 70% probability of you successfully reaching the other side. However, I cannot assist you if you are critically injured in the attempt.

She couldn't assist him, because she couldn't touch him, incapable of affecting the physical world save as the blade of a sword. If he'd fallen out on the molten rock, she would have been powerless to help him. A shiver ran down his spine, and a feeling almost like guilt: she couldn't have done anything to save her previous wielder, either. And if what she said was true – and it had to be; she wouldn't lie – it was somehow important that she had been created that way.

"You really don't have to talk about it." Link sighed. "I'm sorry, Fi."

Fi cocked her head. This was the second time in quick succession that her master had demonstrated some facility for inferring or paralleling her thought processes. Her estimate of the depth of the connection between them rose by a small percentage, correspondingly improving his estimated chances of success.

"I accept your apology, Master, although I do not consider it necessary." She turned, floating upright with one leg slightly bent, facing into the vast hall with all its machinery. "The probability that your assistance will aid in analysing and correcting the error remains incalculable. However, it is imperative that I am restored to full functionality." A moment's pause. "It is also, however, more immediately imperative that we reach the Temple of Time and reunite with the spirit maiden."

Zelda… The need to find her had pushed him on this far, through all the strangeness and the danger, through the burning heat of the desert day. Fi was right: now was not the time, whether or not either of them wanted to talk.

"Okay," Link said aloud. "Lead the way."

As Fi leapt lightly back into the sword with that faint, melodic, almost whistling chime, Link felt the sense of direction she gave him reappear, pointing unerringly along the great hall. Looking from side to side, machine to machine, he started forwards, following her lead.

. . .

Despite the strange lack of echo, close up the machinery still drowned out most other sounds, grating, grinding, and in at least one place rattling and clanging to a stop with a final piteous beep as parts long perished over a millennium snapped or shattered, plunging the intricate mechanisms into chaos. Link ducked reflexively at the sound of screeching metal, straightening only slowly and eyeing the wreckage dubiously, wanting to make quite sure it had stopped moving – and potentially violently ejecting more broken parts – before he got any closer.

Perhaps that was why he didn't notice the motion behind him. Woken by the light and sound and motion, the creatures that had long ago entered the complex through vents and open doors now huddled poised in their burrows and nests, ready to fight or flee or feed. One particularly large chuchu had detected Link, oozing itself near-silently up through the floor panels it had made its home beneath, stretching out a yellowish pseudopod towards him. The first he knew of it was an abrupt prickle of dread down his spine – then, before he could even begin to turn, it had made contact.

Something shot through him, an agonising shock like nothing he had ever experienced, every muscle snapping into tension, the world spinning away as he was flung into blackness.

. . .

...ster Link.

Everything hurt. There was a strange, single-note humming beside his left ear, like someone had flicked a particularly large tuning fork. Link groaned, cracking open his eyes, finding himself looking up dazedly at the girder-vaulted roof high above.

Master Link, it is vital that you move immediately. Fi's mental voice was as urgent as he had ever heard it, far faster than speaking though its music remained. As if to underscore her words, he abruptly felt a new sharp, stabbing pain in his right arm, above the elbow, and moments later another in that leg. With a yelp, he sat bolt upright, eyes widening in sudden horror despite the way the room span around him: he was surrounded by aracha, some barely bigger than his hand, a few as long as his entire leg, and some of the bolder ones were already biting him, clinging to him to maintain their grip as he moved-

Shouting in wordless panic, Link pushed himself to his feet, staggering sideways as he snatched at his sword, the odd tuning-fork hum falling silent as he did. His first swing was as wild as a first-year student's, but it was enough resistance to make the smaller aracha turn tail and flee back into the crevices they had come from, and from somewhere Link summoned the determination to master revulsion and pain and get himself under control. Panicking would not save him. He saw one of the larger aracha preparing to leap just in time, turned towards it in the same moment so that it threw itself directly onto the needle-sharp point of his sword, splitting chitin and piercing through and out of the creature's back with its own momentum. A downward tilt and flick of the blade flung the corpse off, towards another of its fellows which skittered back, pincers and jabbing tail raised in threat. Behind it Link could see a yellowish chuchu, easily big enough to engulf him, but the blobby creatures moved only slowly and it seemed to be in some sort of standoff with several more aracha – he had time. Moving swiftly, he slipped the sword down and around, slicing directly past his own leg and cutting the aracha there neatly in two, a last jolt of pain as its mouthparts and claws spasmed and went slack. He didn't pause to watch it drop, twisting his right arm around despite the increased pain as that aracha clung on still more tightly, again bisecting it in a spray of ichor. Glancing behind himself, away from the chuchu, he saw another that seemed to be preparing itself to leap; spun and leapt himself before it could despite stiffness and pain, striking down through the creature to the floor and regretting it, instantly regretting it, as more pain shot up his leading leg from whatever had happened to his feet. Surely they couldn't have chewed through his boots?

Staying on one knee, Link spun again to face the rest of his foes, the smaller aracha now vanished, the remainder mostly intermediate in size, between the length of his forearm and the length of his arm. They seemed to eye him, pincers and tails raised in threat.

"Shoo!" Link shouted, his voice strained and rough, in the vague hope that at least one more of the creatures might take fright.

Master, Fi suggested silently in the back of his mind, I recommend attempting a 'Skyward Strike'.

Good idea, Fi, Link thought, raising the sword high to the strange light above, seeing the light catch on the blade, seem to fill it, Fi's power his power-

flowing through him like a river: they were a whirlwind, they were evil's bane, they were unstoppable

-and he stood up despite it all, looking for an instant at the aracha from his new vantage point before sweeping sword across, angled down just enough, releasing a wave of blue-white radiance that cracked across the aracha and the chuchu behind them. Several dropped, motionless, their carapaces scorched, while those at the edges scuttled away, trailing damaged limbs or tail, or sporting scorchmarks that hadn't burnt quite deep enough. Beyond them, the yellowish chuchu trembled, oozing from a brownish burnt slash across its front… or at least the part of it facing Link. He trembled slightly, the power he had released leaving him weaker again, but he clung to the feeling that, this time, had flooded his mind when he raised the sword, and refused to let a chuchu bar his way.

I can confirm that it is safe to strike the chuchu, Master. It has now expended its internal electric charge, and is currently defenceless.

It what? The question didn't slow him even for an instant, stepping forward and bringing the bright sword down in an overhead swing that cut the wobbling creature in half. Both halves slumped sideways, away from each other; Link pivoted, wincing, to bisect them again and again, cutting the gelatinous blob to shreds. It might reform, but it would be a lot smaller when it did – and he would be long gone.

Chuchus of this yellowish form are capable of building up and storing large electric charges, which they then deploy to deter predators and subdue prey. When you came into contact with the chuchu, it discharged, causing you to experience an electric shock.

"It did?" Link repeated, picking his way gingerly through the ooze on the floor. He had to get to somewhere safer before he could risk sitting down, much as he wanted to. Had that been what happened? How had he ended up on the ground? How long had he been there? "Is that what- what happened?" His breath hissed through his teeth as a last longer stride finally took him clear of the mess, limping forwards for lack of a better direction, hoping to find somewhere he could stop. Now that both his initial panic and the fight were over, everything seemed to hurt even more.

Yes, Master Link. I detected the chuchu only moments before it touched you, from which I infer that it must have been concealed within the floor cavities. Its electrical signature must have been masked by the significant current flows in this facility. The shock caused you to land some distance from it. You were unconscious for less than five seconds; however, this was sufficient to induce the aracha to emerge.

Link shuddered.

I am currently analysing the map for enclosed locations that might provide a safer space in which to tend your wounds. There is a small room dedicated to equipment storage ahead and to your right. However, the pipes nearby are corroded, and venting steam. You will need to move with caution to avoid further injury. Alternatively, there is an administration office further ahead and to the left, beyond the heap of sand. This sand heap appears to have entered through a crack in the wall. It is currently stable; however, the structural integrity of the region is reduced.

"Doesn't sound like we h-have any good choices."

No, Master.

Steeling himself, Link glanced down at his right arm, only confirming what he had already known. His sleeve and arm alike were a torn mess, sticky with blood and ichor, and just looking at it seemed to give it an extra sting. His leg was in much the same state, every muscle ached, and whatever had happened to his feet – and his waist, almost a ring of pain beneath his belt – it hurt. Even without Fi's calm advice, he knew he shouldn't risk one of his two precious healing elixirs before at least inspecting the wounds, lest he make matters worse.

Gritting his teeth, Link limped onwards, sword in hand, looking for a break in the machinery that would allow him to turn right and find the storage room Fi had mentioned. A cluster of pipes descending from the ceiling looked to offer a potential opening, if also probably the danger of steam. He kept a cautious distance from it as he turned, relieved that, indeed, there was open space behind it, one processing line ending in whatever these tubes fed or drew from, and a wide gap between that and what seemed to be the beginning of a different processing line. As Fi has warned him, the pipes were old, streaked with discolouration, and several of them were hissing like a kettle: some continuously; two in regular pulses, as if something was periodically pumping. Link didn't want to run, or jump, and it looked worryingly as though he might have to do both: not only could he see the high-pressure steam jets, the machinery across the gap was slick with condensed water, with no way around other than climbing across the dangerous-looking equipment.

I guess at least there's water here…

It really wasn't much of an upside.

"Do you think I can make it?"

The current limitations to your mobility reduce my estimate of your probability of success to approximately 85%.

"Well… I've done worse."

It wasn't as if he had all that much choice, either. The thought of turning away and moving on to some more distant potential safety felt like a lead weight. All he had to do here was make one leap, and open a door. It felt so tantalisingly close: he could see the door on the other side.

Mind made up, Link limped closer and braced himself, timing the bursts of steam by murmuring numbers under his breath, counting out the rhythm. He slipped the Goddess Sword back into its scabbard: he couldn't risk landing on it when he hit the other side.

The first one went: One. Two. Three. The second. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. The first again: One. Two. The second. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

He might have had enough time just to step through, but it wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

Now! As the two steam jets went off almost together, Link dashed forward, forcing himself to stay on his feet with all his determination, throwing himself into a diving leap the same way he might have flung himself through a fence back on Spindrift as a small child, competing with his siblings and friends. Just as he had back then, he cleared the lower bar – or steam jet – without clipping the higher one, and just as he had then he twisted in mid-air to roll as he landed-

Very much unlike how he had landed as a boy, the impact and subsequent roll sent waves of pain through him, enough so that he yelped despite himself, coming to a stop curled almost into a ball.

Master, I do not recommend remaining in a prone position for any length of time in this location.

Fi's prompt sent him scrambling back to his feet, looking around wildly, drawing the sword once more, its solid presence in his hand a comfort.

While I deduce that the unexpected motion and sound of the machinery has rendered the aracha in this hall temporarily less likely to attack than would otherwise be the case, you still represent a food supply of significant magnitude.

Link grimaced, limping the last few steps to the door.

"Is there… anything o-on the other… other side of this, Fi?"

Negative, Master. I detect no life signs beyond this door. However, you should proceed with caution regardless.

Link thought he sensed Fi's focus shift an instant before the door grated open, sticking halfway before abruptly slamming back to the end of its track. Cautiously, he ventured into the dark space beyond, lights within activating as he did so that he could see it was simply a small, dusty room lined with shelves and compartments, various strange items still upon them where they had been left a thousand years before. He looked around slowly, cautiously, peering into every shadow, and it was only once he had satisfied himself that there really was nothing in there with him that Fi commanded the door to shut once more.

Sitting down at last, the Goddess Sword resting on the dusty floor beside him, Link leant back against the wall and sighed in pained relief.

You will need to inspect and clean your injuries, Master.

"Yeah… I know."

Slowly, wincing at the motion, Link began to unbuckle his belt. To his surprise, Fi sprang from the sword as he did, floating before him somewhat bent over, as if she were inspecting him.

"Fi?"

She met his gaze, expressionless. "You have previously found the visible presence of my projection calming, Master."

Link smiled weakly. "Thanks, then." It was true: there was something reassuring about being able to see her, even though he knew full well she was just as much beside him in the sword. In its own way, it felt as though she cared.

. . .

Fi had talked him through cleaning both bites and burns, the latter the result of the electric shock: where his chainmail – which had conducted the electricity – had been closest to his skin, and where he'd been touching the floor. It had used more of his precious water than she or he would have liked, and been far more painful than he would have liked… but the relief as he drank the bottle of cool-tasting, slightly bitter medicine was almost blissful. It didn't make him any less weary, or do anything for the state of his clothes, but it silenced the ache in his muscles and healed his wounds to mere fading marks, and that was all he really needed. Pulling his boots back on a little reluctantly, Link picked up the Goddess Sword and got to his feet, looking around the room with a clear head for the first time.

"What is all this stuff, Fi?"

"These items appear to be tools used for cleaning and maintenance," Fi answered, still drifting beside him, now in her usual not-quite-standing pose. "The item you are looking at right now is a powerful debris blower. It is designed to use rapid air flow to move sand, dirt, and other unwanted small particles from almost any location. Although the unit has deteriorated, it would still function at reduced capacity if provided with a power core, due to the exceptionally sheltered location in which it has been stored."

"That sounds a lot quicker than using a broom." A quick smile flickered across Link's face as he imagined cleaning his room by blowing all the dust out of the window. "Well… are you ready to go?"

"Of course, Master." Fi inclined her head and leapt back into the sword with a faint chime. As Link turned to the door, it began to open again, still grating unpleasantly, and he slipped through the moment the gap was wide enough to let him.

The vast space on the other side seemed more or less unchanged. Fi's sense of direction reasserted itself as he looked around, leading him towards the far end once again. Unlike the wide aisle he'd been walking down before, this side of the machinery seemed to be periodically interrupted with various moving belts and mechanisms connecting into the wall, and Link turned back to look at the hissing steam pipes. He wasn't sure, but they seemed to be venting somewhat more aggressively than before.

"...Does that look like it's getting worse to you, Fi?" he asked, pointing.

Judging by the increased volume of the projected steam, I deduce that pressure is building up in the mechanism to which these pipes are connected. I recommend bypassing them rapidly. If the pressure continues to increase, either the steam-producing mechanism or the pipes themselves will eventually reach the point of catastrophic failure.

Link grimaced. "Let's get out of here before that happens."

Agreed.

Looking at the steam jets, he stepped forward, sheathing the Goddess Sword and eyeing the timings. A few pulses were enough for him to decide that, at least, hadn't changed, and Link dived through just as he had before, landing far more agilely and rolling back to his feet. Feeling slightly more confident at the ease of his success, he slipped shield from his back and the sword from its scabbard, continuing down the aisle alert and wary.

. . .

Fi had been right: the longer the machinery ran, the more accustomed to it and braver the aracha grew, some venturing to scuttle from their hiding places and leap at Link as he neared the far end of the hall, caught mid-air by shield and sword, their envenomed stings useless against metal and metal-plated wood. The relative ease with which he had cut them down was something of a relief: they felt like a much greater threat now, after what he had been through, than the two had that had leapt out at him in the lost city of Cronellon, a day and a long levitrain ride ago. The door, as Link neared it, was as huge as the one he'd entered the hall by, big enough to move even quite large pieces of machinery in and out of – something that made a lot more sense now he'd seen the full inside of the hall. Fi's sense of direction was guiding him directly through it, and he walked boldly up to the great door, ready for anything.

Master, I have two significant pieces of information to impart.

"What is it?"

Firstly: I detect significant but slow lifesigns on the other side of this door. It is highly probable that there is a large creature in the space beyond that is currently in a state of torpor. The lifesigns bear a resemblance to those of a dormant aracha; however, they belong to an organism much larger. Secondly: although this door is receiving input, it has transmitted a negative status code. It would appear that the door is locked. There is a slot at your chest height which would receive a physical data token, which would serve as a key. It is highly probable that such a key would be kept in one of the administration offices.

Link looked at the slot dubiously. So thin he almost hadn't noticed it, he could just about have posted a particularly thin letter into it, and very little else. Could it really be a kind of keyhole? If Fi said it was, though, he was inclined to believe she was right, even if he didn't see how anything thin enough to put in there could be turned or pushed or anything else without breaking.

"...Didn't you say there was an administration office near the sandfall?" He'd passed that perhaps two-thirds of the way along the hall. The machinery to the left had stopped most of it from encroaching into the aisle he was walking down, but it had been a mountainous pile, and the wall it must have come through was visibly deformed.

There is. Technically, there were multiple, but I predict that the majority of them are now inaccessible.

"We have to try it." Link turned around, allowing himself a sigh, but no more. He wanted to reach Zelda as quickly as possible – and to get out of this strange, mechanical, subterranean place.

. . .

The office door had taken another use of the small power core to open, and the strange, too-perfect cavity it had opened in the sandfall beside it in reverting the area to a time before the sand had been there had left Link fearing that the entire thing would collapse on his head, despite Fi's reassurances. He'd been very glad when he could knock the power core again and end the timeshift prematurely, the sandfall still steep, but now at least naturally sloped and therefore somewhat less ominous.

The office itself was another sealed room, covered with dust, its contents looking significantly less bizarre than the storage room he'd been in before. The desk was more of a panel covered in buttons and flat glass areas, none of them visibly working; the handful of shelves held small boxes and little more.

"What am I looking for, Fi?"

The key will be a flat device, approximately the size of your hand and rectangular in outline. It will most probably have a wider section along one of the short sides for ease of gripping. This was recorded as a standard electronic key form in this region.

Picturing something about the size and shape of a sealed letter, Link nodded. "Okay."

In the end, the sixth box he opened – and the sixth cloud of dust he disturbed – proved to contain the device he was looking for. Far more complex than the outside of a letter, it was toothed and grooved, strange geometric patterns inlaid into it in shimmering gold that almost reminded him of a coiling snake, and despite how thin and light it was, it seemed sturdy even after the millennium it had spent sitting motionless in the room. He could feel Fi's sense of confirmation that he'd found it even before she spoke, musical in his mind.

The words on the wider section confirm that this is the key to the Temple branch of this facility.

Link allowed himself a brief grin of mingled triumph and relief, switching the key to his right hand and drawing the sword once again before venturing back out of the door, hastening away from the sandfall in relief.

He was about halfway back to the door Fi had guided him to – there had been others, at intervals, and if he hadn't been surrounded by danger and on such an urgent task he might have tried to investigate them – when she abruptly spoke again.

I detect the aura of the spirit maiden, your friend Zelda.

It was the best news Link had heard all day, and he felt himself grinning like an idiot. "Where? Do you know if she's okay?"

I cannot determine her precise physical status at this range, but her aura is strong and shows no discernible signs of damage or dimming as might accompany a serious injury. Her position relative to our location, and to other significant auras in the region, places her at the Temple of Time. The sudden appearance and strength of her aura indicates that she is engaged in an activity requiring significant concentration of power, such that her probable Sheikah companion is no longer able to mask it.

"Then we should hurry!" Link sped up to a jog, his weariness and dust-dry throat forgotten. All he had to do was get into the 'Temple branch', slip by whatever Fi had said was sleeping in there, and maybe, finally, he would catch up to his friend! He begrudged every second it took him to get to the door; had to turn the strange inlaid card around in his hand twice before getting it the right way up to insert. As it pushed the last of the way into the slot, there was a click, and a little pointer that Link had taken to be part of the decoration flicked to a different direction.

"Was that it? Will it open?"

I can confirm that you have unlocked the door, Master. I advise caution when proceeding beyond.

"I know." Link got a grip on his emotions, schooling himself back to alert caution. "There's something big sleeping in there." He took a deep breath, reaching back for his shield, preparing himself just in case. "Okay, Fi, I'm ready."

With a heavy clunk and a grinding sound, the huge door opened, and Link stepped through.

The room beyond was dimly and patchily lit, as if some of the lights above weren't working – and the sand that whispered beneath Link's damaged boots told the tale of why even before he looked around. The room seemed to be a sort of antechamber leading into another, much narrower and seemingly higher-set hall, but to his right the wall had long since given way, spilling an untold depth of sand across the room and all it might have contained. Link looked around warily, but there was no sign of anything living, large or otherwise.

Master, I detect that the lifesigns are accelerating. The creature within this chamber is waking up. Fi's words arrived in Link's mind almost instantaneously, despite their melody, and he snapped his guard up, looking around once again. Where was it, where-

The sand beneath his feet shifted, and Link jumped back, startled: was the ground giving way? Was the damage to the wall spreading – was he about to be buried?! It shifted again, in a line, almost, a huge moving mound as if-

As if something was beneath it. Link had only just completed the thought when the something burst up through the sand, a monstrosity of shining black and lashing limbs, a great blue-red eye staring at him from the threshing mass, a hooked arc swaying above it. It almost took a moment for Link's stunned brain to process what he was seeing: was this some kind of gigantic aracha?! It was huge, big enough to eat a loftwing in a few bites!

Preliminary analysis complete, Fi informed him. This specimen appears to be a form of aracha only previously hypothesised. Aracha grow throughout their lifespan, moulting their exoskeleton at regular intervals, and have never been found to enter a state of senescence. The size of this individual is evidence that it has lived for over one thousand years. Its chitin is now so sturdy that direct blows will be minimally effective. The chitin plates have significant overlap: a direct strike through the eye is the only straightforward method of killing it. The pincers can exert a sustained force capable of crushing bone, but there is a weakness within them at their base where the muscle that closes them is relatively exposed. The venom in the tail is highly potent and should be avoided.

Link rather thought the whole thing should be avoided, but it was in his way and if he wanted to get to Zelda he had no choice but to get past.

There is a 95% probability that this chamber has served as this aracha's lair for much of its lifespan, providing a sheltered space from which it can burrow to the surface in order to hunt. Our intrusion is predicted to be exceptionally unwelcome.

The gigantic aracha lashed its tail, threatening Link with first one pincer, then the other. It moved with deceptive speed, scuttling sideways while keeping its one eye fixed on him, forcing him to turn and back away. Fear clutched at him, but he forced himself to concentrate, watching the thing's movements like any other opponent. There – a moment's greater withdrawal of the left pincer, and he was leaping back just as it snapped at him, closing on the empty air where he had been just heartbeats before! Clumsier than he liked on the shifting sand, he backed up further, trying to circle – only for the aracha to change its tactics and come around the other way, cutting him off from reaching the far corridor. Link gritted his teeth and stood his ground, trying to watch every part of the creature at once, from twitching pincers to swaying tail. It feinted with a pincer, once, twice – then a sudden stiffening of the tail once again warned Link just in time as it whipped forward and slammed into the sand with tremendous force, likely enough that it would have severely damaged his shield and knocked him off his feet even if it hadn't penetrated it. The aracha jerked its tail back in the next moment, then abruptly made a scuttling rush that forced Link to outright throw himself aside, the left pincer just barely passing over his head, the impacts of its row of clawed feet actually tangible through the sand. It was past him – and he was past it – and maybe, just maybe, if he moved fast enough-

He was still moving even as the thoughts went through his head; came back to his feet and started running for the exit as behind him the aracha whipped round, all six legs moving in a complicated and obscenely rapid dance, coming after him faster than he could run – the sound and the vibrations and Fi's warning and the shadow all combined into one frantic moment of knowledge, and again Link threw himself sideways to land sprawled in the sand as the grasping pincers missed him by inches, so close that the giant aracha actually planted a painfully heavy foot on his back and then abruptly backed off. Link scrambled to his feet in a spray of sand, turning and half-staggering away, the need to see the creature far outweighing the need to get his balance. Just in time he saw the tell-tale stiffening of the tail; leapt out of the way as it hit the spot where he had just been. If he could just get a bit further back, just a little further around-

He saw the left pincer withdraw that extra fraction, darted the other way – the right way, he just had to keep going – and-

-and almost in the same moment, as the left pincer clacked shut on where he had been, the right one slammed closed on where he was, sudden force driving the breath from his lungs and inexorably tightening! He couldn't even gasp for air, let alone call to Fi, the crushing pressure growing with every instant-

Master, your left arm still has freedom of motion. The words cascaded into his mind almost as a single musical note, as a thought, an idea. It is also in close proximity to the inner muscle of the pincer. Strike upwards immediately!

Link obeyed, somehow, the breath crushed out of him, even as he thought he felt something snap inside his chest: twisting wrist and elbow to bring the Goddess Sword up with all his remaining strength, bright blade glowing palely, scraping along the bottom of the pincer as it reached the right angle; scraping upwards; hitting resistance-

The unbearable pressure abruptly ended, dropping him gasping to the ground, his chest burning. A buzzing, hissing screech assaulted his ears, and Link forced himself to lift his head, start to push himself up: the immense aracha was holding its right pincer close to its body, tucked inwards and hanging open at an awkward-looking angle, its tail lashing and its other pincer snapping at the air.

Stand, Master.

Somehow, Link obeyed, still gasping raggedly despite the pain every breath caused him, struggling to his feet and lifting sword and shield. For a moment that felt like forever, he and the aracha stared at one another, both injured, both defiant.

Though it was the last thing Link felt like doing, he flourished the sword, letting the blade catch the dim light.

Abruptly, the aracha spun, charging the sand where it piled against the wall, digging into it with a spray of sand and vanishing in an almost ridiculously short space of time. Link stared blankly after it for several moments after it had disappeared.

I can confirm that the aracha has departed this chamber. You have sustained cracked ribs, but no other serious injuries. It is advisable that you heal yourself before further conflict.

Link nodded wordlessly. Breathing hurt enough that he didn't want to try to speak. Moving carefully, he walked the last few paces to the ramp up to the hallway; climbed it and stopped at its top. That had to be far enough from the sand… at least far enough that he'd see the huge aracha coming if it did return.

As he drank his second and last medicinal elixir, Fi spoke once more, and all the melody had fled her flat and rapid voice.

Master Link, I detect the arrival of the demon Ghirahim.

Aaaaagh that got so long but I couldn't find a good clean place I really wanted to end it! We get one of my favourite bosses, and guess what, this chapter saw Ardil learn more about electric shocks! The things we do for writing.

Patch Notes
- Bottomless pits removed.
- Chuchu shocks converted to DC.
- Machinery redesigned to have relevant purpose.
- Bizarre obstacle course converted to functional refinery (for the most part).
- Defensive lasers moved to places likely to actually need defending (i.e. outside).
- Robots using high-pitched sound to communicate engineer high-quality acoustic damping for lower frequencies.
- Local predator in non-evil surroundings now adopts more standard predator behaviour, including survival instinct.