We packed the items we brought in our bags, while the crystals and Ore were kept in my Subspace, since they can't be handled carelessly.
"Now that I think about it," Ewa starts as she watches the items vanish, "I can't believe you hid such a useful ability from us—my expensive liquor could have been spared all along—I say you should carry all our stuffs from now on."
"Ah… um, there is not that much space left." She raises an eyebrow, and I add, "It might surprise you, but I have belongings of my own; I wouldn't need a Subspace otherwise."
"How many belongings could you possibly keep to almost fill a roomful of a dimensional space?" Kayin asks curiously.
"I am lady," I say, and Kayin looks at me like my response is not enough of an answer. He does not push through, though, and just shakes his head. Upon readiness, we enter the elevator, descending toward the final floor.
"This place is massive, larger than the floors above," N'jobu says once the lights turn on.
"And what are those?!" Ewa exclaims, pointing at the four structures leaning, unmoving, in pairs against the walls on either side of the room. They have vaguely human-like bodies and stand as tall as the walls.
"Oh… Those are Combat Constructs. They are often used as training dummies against new spells and arcane devices."
I am not even done with m explanations that Sazayi and N'jobu, then all the others flock around a pair.
"This…" Sazayi breathes, gawking, "This is the most awesome thing I have ever seen. It's so… majestic."
"How do the Nchāren even think up of such things?" Azikiwe wonders. "You said Combat Constructs? These resemble the machines we encountered within that woodland previously. But these ones can fight better?" He taps on its surface with his knuckles and clanging sounds echoes.
"The Constructs Dalisso used were made for surveillance, these once are on a whole other level. The materials they are made of are much more robust; their design also prioritises maximum combat efficiency."
"And you do that underground? What if something blows up and everything collapses?" Kayin asks.
"As I mentioned, the whole city is warded, combined with the wards of the research centre, tripled with the wards of this very chamber, and the force fields raised on each individual arena during tests are also in place… I have never read or heard of any precedent." I say, shaking my head, "Plus, l am quite certain that the… really dangerous stuff would not be tested here. There were rumours of secret facilities located far in the wilderness for that purpose, though I have never seen one."
—Oh. But I did see one now that I think of it. Doesn't that secret chamber I and the others were hibernating be one of those facilities?
"Say, Vyswe'eyaga," Azikiwe fixes me with a serious face, "can you… turn on those things? I am kind of curious of what they are capable of."
I blink.
He can't be serious.
But the expression on his face tells me he totally is. Why on earth would he want to do that?!
"Ahem…" Kayin coughs, "I had preferred it if you didn't, Azikiwe. This isn't exactly the time."
"The Constructs lack their animation cores anyway," I add. "Maybe another time? Let's focus on the task hand and find the stairs to the tunnel."
"Oo! Found it!" Ewa exclaims, pointing at the far corner of the room where an inconspicuous door is. It is the same colour as the walls, so it would be difficult to see it at first glance… for a normal person.
"Why stairs anyway?" Ewa questions as we head toward it, "There is already an elevator running through all the other floors, but they just couldn't extend it to the underground road?"
I open the door, and a gust of chilly, stale wind stream to my face. The flight of stairs run endlessly below, it would be completely dark were it not for the nightlight shining across every five or so steps.
"That is an excellent question." I mutter.
We make it down in the tunnels about fifteen minutes later. The air here is stale and humid, the ground feels soft, almost muddy. The array network seems to be dead as the space is plunged in complete obscurity. But N'jobu quickly creates several motes of lights with a snap of his fingers, which floats around like fireflies. I have been strictly prohibited to needlessly expending my Spiritual essence.
I glance at the specks of fire as we walk, then back at him curiously. "I have come to notice that you always snap his fingers before summoning your fire, why is that?"
He studies for a moment before, then shuffles with his arms, rolling his sleeves, to reveal a pair of… half gloves, if they can be called that, on his hands. But it does not really cover anything except for his thumb and index. He snaps his fingers once more, for brief instant, sparks appear then a flame blooms in his palm. "That's how I do."
"Neat." I pause before adding, "But isn't it a little… unnecessary? Why not simply use your essence as the spark?"
His expression grows turns dark; it is especially accentuated by the shadows dancing on his face. His rolls back his sleeves, a smile on his face, but it does not quite reach his eyes. "I could do that a long time ago… but I can't anymore."
He looks away without another word.
The tunnel stretches wide and cavernous, eerily reminiscent of the one where I first met Kayin. It extends endlessly in both directions, a yawning corridor of shadow and silence. Without the compass, we might have wandered aimlessly for hours. But with it guiding us, we press on, deeper.
It is really lucky that it points in the direction the tunnel is mapped. I feared I would have to carve a path into the walls.
As our march dragged on past the half-hour mark, the monotony started to wear on the others, and to stave off the creeping boredom, they turned their attention to me, launching a barrage of questions at me. Their subject of questioning being my Subspace… apparently they had all been curious to know how I could summon and dismiss my staff out of nowhere, well, except Ewa; I had already told her.
Thus, the following hours turned into an impromptu lesson on the creation and workings of a dimensional Subspace.
"So, you can make a Subspace as large as you want?" Kayin asks.
"In theory yes. I, personally, have never made one larger than roomful."
"A roomful, you say, then the carrying capacity of a Subspace depends on the volume, not the weight?"
"Both, actually."
He hums softly. "Interesting."
"What about people?" Gamba asks, "Can people get in?"
"Yes. And before you ask; No, people cannot get inside mine. Not alive people."
"But you can make one that does, right?" Ewa chimes.
"I, uhh… I am not wholly confident I can. Such an Anchor is awfully complex to make."
She makes an 'ooh' sound with her mouth at my response.
"I can't believe you have one tattooed on your skin," Sazayi looks at me like he sees me for the first time, "I never thought you were the type to do something like that."
"You thought wrong." I reply with a bit of pride.
N'jobu leans over. "You said a Subspace is more or less self-sufficient as long as it is sustained with Spiritual essence, right? But about two days ago, when you were completely out of it? How come it didn't collapse on you?"
"I was not 'completely out of it'. No living being entirely runs on essence—unless they die—I was just too low on it to cast any more spells. I have trained my body to instinctively sustain my Anchor with my essence; it is now as natural as breathing air and has very much become a part of my being.
"It sounds terrible… it's like you are constantly carrying explosives on yourself. What of the day you would have too little essence to preserve it?"
I do not answer immediately.
Truth is, I had never taught of such a scenario. Why would I, when I could not even fathom a day when I could exhaust my essence to that point?
"I, I will make sure it never happens."
"Humm… Say, Vyswe'eyaga, do you think you can make me one of those dimensional pockets instead?"
I look over at Azikiwe. "What about the protective charms?"
"I am not interested in those anymore, I had rather have a personal dimensional bag," he says grimacing, "But I don't mind still getting the charms." The smiles he gives me is a toothy and unashamed one.
"Wow, how greedy," Ewa gives him the side-eye. "How shameless."
He shrugs. "If you want yours, just say it."
"Hold on now, I never agreed to anything. Not that I am refusing, but Subspaces cannot just be anchored on anything, I need a spatial mineral for that… a mineral we currently do not have. Any other material and the Anchor will unravel over time."
Azikiwe clicks his tongue, while the rest wear slightly disappointed expressions. I shake my head in exacerbation. I wonder since when I had become their personal craftsman, but no matter.
"Alright, no magic bag then… for now. But how about you tattoo it on me?" Azikiwe suggests, "Just like yours."
"We don't have the materials to make the ink."
Azikiwe exhales sharply through his nose. "So many rules to follow…"
"There is something ahead."
I follow Gamba's gaze, squinting into the distance. At first, the shape ahead is indistinct, just a dark mass against the horizon. But as we draw closer, recognition strikes, and my stomach knots.
A SCPLE.
It is not because of seeing one here that almost gives me a panic attack—after all, they had all been dispatched during the evacuation effort—It is the condition it's in.
The locomotive lies in ruins. The lower wagons have been severed, scattered like broken limbs.
With each step, the horror sharpens. The carriages are mangled, their sides and roofs ripped open by jagged lacerations that jut outward, as though something monstrous had clawed its way free... As if a large animal was set loose inside.
My breath falters, cold sweats run down my spine. Could… could there have been people inside when it happened? Families, hundreds of souls fleeing for safety, only to be trapped in this steel tomb with whatever nightmare tore through it. The idea freezes my blood.
"There had been a fight." Kayin's voice is low, grim. He stares at the walls, and I force myself to look. My legs lock at the sight; claw marks gouged deep into the metal, cavities blasted through as if struck by beams infused with spiritual essence—the people had been fighting back.
"Strange," N'jobu says, looking around sombrely. "It looks like the danger came from inside… instead of outside."
"You noticed it too," Kayin locks eyes with him. "Junjus?"
"Probably."
"I-I think we should leave… quickly. This place isn't right." They look at me questioningly, but nod their heads anyway.
I have felt a strange unease ever since we passed the first wreckage of the SCPLE. A subtle chill clings to my back, and the hairs across my body have been standing on end. The shadows around behave strangely, I sometimes see them sliding unnaturally from the corner of my vision, yet they turn back to normal the moment my gaze falls upon them.
The sensation of being watched gnaws at me. I cannot tell if it is the effect of a Gaze spell or some other arcane sight. I have tried using several revelation spells they do not seem to detect any form of surveillance placed on us. If the spells do not work, it would usually mean there is nothing to find… And yet, I can't shake the feeling of someone staring at me.
Worst of it all, it seems like I am the only one experiencing this. I talked to them my strange experiences, even Ike said he does not sense anything odd. Am I really imagining things? This is driving me crazy.
We find the missing upper wagons as we go deeper, the head of the SCPLE has ploughed into the earth, burying itself at least three carriages deep and leaving a gaping hole in the ground.
I take another step. Something cracks beneath me. Bones. Splintered fragments—an arm, perhaps a leg—half-buried in the soil.
I look around. The ground is littered with corpses, my countrymen, some hidden, some staring back from the earth.
This… this is a graveyard.
I feel lightheaded. Looking around me… it is like standing in the middle of a horror scene.
Months ago, I found a wagon, abandoned, filled with broken remains just like these. But this, this is different. This is a massacre.
And I am starting to wonder… Just how many of us survived? Is my group the only one that made it out alive?
"Vyvy," Ewa slips her hand into mine, holding firm. "You don't look so good."
I stare at the bones at my feet, then back at her face. "D-do I?"
"Vyswe'eyaga." Kayin is eyeing me carefully, like does not want to startle me. "Where do you think this," he frowns slightly, "locomotive powered engine, was it? Where was it going?"
"I…" I look around, slightly distracted by the stares in my direction, "There were other underground shelters, I was told. It was surely heading there. I, I do not know much else."
I scour at the surrounding destruction, and a strange calm settles over me. They were going to safety and were attacked along the way. But the monsters—the junjus—why does it feel as if they came from inside the locomotive itself? Could they have infiltrated it from outside? Forced their way in? No, the SCLPE is warded. Once in motion, it is completely sealed off and can only be opened from inside by the operator. Then how did this happen?
I exhale, heavy, defeated.
I don't know.
I don't know at all.
"I may sound callous by saying this but we can't waste time here," Azikiwe announces, turning to me intently. "We have somewhere to go, don't we?"
I nod. He is right. But when I take the next step, I halt mid-step.
The cold sweats have been feeling multiply a hundredfold, my blood runs cold and my bones become as heavy as stones.
Leaning behind a bolder a small pale figure comes into view.
Which is not possible. There was no one there a second ago. This, this is not a person. My suspicions are proven correct when it suddenly drifts closer.
It is a little boy, but everything about him is wrong. He is pale, very pale, and I do not mean the Kayin type of pale. The dead type. Not only that, but apart from his face, his whole body is indistinguishable, his form blurs, fading into a ghostly transparency from his torso down as he gets closer. His body would flicker sometimes, blinking in and out of view, like a candle flame struggling against the breath of an unseen wind.
Ewa's hand tightens on mine, her warmth seeping into my chilled skin and grounding me back to reality. Yet her own colour drains away, her face has grown pale, her eyes constricted into pinpoints, and her mouth has fallen open in disbelief.
"Am I seeing things?" she whispers.
No one answers.
Kayin, Ike, N'jobu, Sazayi, Gamba, and Azikiwe all stare dumbstruck, their expressions identical mirrors of shock.
The boy is not the only to make his appearance, other figures soon reveal themselves, following his lead. They are in a similar state as the boy; translucent forms of men, women, and children, their outlines wavering as though painted in smoke. They hover in silence, blinking in and out of existence, eyes hollow pools of light.
Ewa yanks me away, when they start converging around me, but they follow. She pulls me away once more, stepping in to block them from me but they simply go through her like she wasn't there, and converge around me.