The two walked through the eerie, cool, autumn night with lanterns in hand. The ground was still a little damp from the earlier rain, and a bit of humidity still hung in the air. The streets were nearly empty, they had not even seen a guard patrol since entering the district.

In a way it felt redemptive, rescuing Templars from custody after they had rescued her. Poetic, too, that Bailly was one of her objectives. He was, after all, the man who had ultimately turned her.

She rehearsed everything in her head: They would enter the catacombs through the cemetery, then go left, straight, straight, and right. Then they would find a torch-holder on the wall which one of them would twist, while the other pushed opened secret door. From there was a short hall way, a ladder down to a lower chamber, and then a staircase up to the final chamber. Then there would be a trapdoor into the dungeon of the fort.

The ladder worried her. Descending or ascending a ladder was a very vulnerable process. If the Illuminati were smart, that is where they would put their guards. At least from what she had seen so far, the Illuminati were not smart, but they had still discussed the issue before embarking. Arno had volunteered to go down first. She worried for his safety.

They got to the gates. This cemetery, the Holy Innocents' Cemetery, was where she had first encountered Robespierre following his treachery. La mort est un repos éternel. Those were the words posted above the gate. "'Death is an eternal slumber'," Arno said, reading the words outloud. "Can you believe those Illuminati cretins? They're just so..."

"Shhh-" she said.

She scanned the graveyard and listened for occupants.

Silence. No one was there.

She stuck her hand through the bars and opened the gate. It creaked loudly in the still night.

"You're worried they'd be waiting for us?" Arno asked.

"No, but I...I don't know. I suppose it's best no one be here to witness what's about to transpire."

She noticed the crucifixes in the cemetery had their arms lobbed off. The Illuminati's influence had reached surreal heights. They spit in the face of the religion which had defined Europe for centuries.

The entrance to catacombs was in a Greco-Roman looking doorway ahead. Élise in the lead, they entered and descended the stone steps. She had heard all about the catacombs but never set foot inside before. At the bottom of the stairs, two crosses flanked the wall. Those had not get been disturbed, at least. It was totally dark save for the light of their lanterns.

Left - straight - straight -right, those were the direction she had memorized from the map. They turned left. There were walls of brick and walls of bone. She could hardly imagine a creepier place. Even if the real danger was not here yet, this place brought out the scared little girl in her.

So many had lived and died in this city, this crown jewel of Europe. The Illuminati now had its population in its thrall, the parted souls represented by the mute skulls could have never predicted a future like this.

Straight.

Dust and pebbles crunched beneath their boots. A rat scurried away from their light.

Straight.

How many people were buried beneath this city? A million? She was told the Romans built the catacombs, mining some kind of stone. Limestone? But how long had they been used as crypts?

The right turn was visible ahead. She might have real threats to deal with the in the Templar tunnel. Certainly she would in the Temple dungeon.

Right.

She could see the point of entry ahead. She approached the torch-holder and then nodded to Arno. Her heart rate accelerated. He had already unholstered his pistol, for the unlikely event there was a guard right at the entrance. Élise grasped the cold metal and twisted. He pushed door opened, its heavy mass grinding against the floor. She primed herself for anything alarming, but it seemed clear. Élise felt a small relief.

Just like the map had shown, there was a small, narrow hallway followed by an ominous ladder to a lower chamber. This time Arno was in the lead. She hated what was about to come.

He began his descent. Every nerve in her body became sensitive and her muscles tensed. It was grueling. To think of her sweet Arno...

She heard him let go and drop the last few feet, and then roll a smart move.

That was the last sound. No gun shot, no scream. Thank goodness, nothing happened. She was elated. The passage must have been clear. She followed her way down. With Arno safe, and the tunnel empty, everything else felt whimsical now.

At the bottom was the underground chamber. It's ceiling was high. A creek cut the room in half, with a stone bridge to get to get across. On the other side was a staircase, flanked by two iron coats. But there was something wrong. The staircase hallway they were expecting was caved in.

Élise looked back at Arno, whose face showed displeasure. He had wanted her to see this for herself.

He said "It seems they anticipated this."