Volume 2 - Chapter 15 – Secrets of the Forgotten Laboratory

The group prepared themselves and exited the basement back into the city. Ernest spoke firmly: "Follow me, I have our path mapped out. Stay close." They followed him through winding alleys, cutting down smaller beasts along the way.

As they traveled, Ash noticed something unsettling. He glanced at his soul capacitor and saw the gem glowing a solid green, yet he didn’t feel the usual surge of energy from the slain creatures. Realization struck — the device must be full. Toby had warned him about its capacity limit.

His thoughts were cut short when Ernest hissed, "Stop." The group froze as a massive beast lumbered past, its colossal feet shaking the ground. Once it vanished into the distance, Ernest whispered, "Clear. Let’s move. We should have a path to the head — not many buildings around it."

They slipped out of the alley and traveled for a while, weaving between toppled walls and broken streets as they pressed on toward the metal head. For a time all was still but the sound of their boots and the whisper of distant falling pebbles. Then Xanathis’ ears twitched. She slowed, tilting her head, catching a faint growl carried from far behind them. Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced back. Through the haze of dust she spotted movement—the massive beast they had seen before, now turning toward them, smaller creatures swarming at its feet.

The ground began to rumble beneath their steps. Xanathis snapped her gaze forward, her voice sharp and urgent. "Run! The beasts have noticed us!"

The group broke into a sprint. Xanathis came to a complete stop, closing her eyes as she drew deeply on her power. Frost swirled thick in the air around her body, the temperature dropping sharply. The ground beneath her boots groaned as she gathered more and more of her magic, channeling it until her veins burned with the strain. She lifted her foot and slammed it down and called out her spell. “Ice Wall!”

The ground erupted as a colossal barrier of ice surged skyward, jagged and glistening. It stretched across the width of the street and climbed so high, its jagged crown bristling with sharp points that would deter any beasts from ever attempting to climb it, the frozen wall extending far in both directions like an endless glacier. The sheer force of the spell sent cracks racing through the cobblestones, mist and shards of frost blasting outward in a wave.

Xanathis staggered as the wall sealed off the beasts, sweat beading her brow. Her breathing grew uneven—she had poured so much magic into the defense that her limbs trembled faintly, her strength taxed by the effort. She turned and sprinted to catch up with the others, forcing herself forward.

But the terrain grew worse, collapsed buildings slowing their pace. Then the sound reached them—deep and thunderous. Boom… boom… boom… each impact shook the earth as the massive beast hurled itself again and again into the frozen wall behind them. With every crash came the sharp crack of splitting ice, echoing through the ruins like the world itself was breaking. The group ran harder, but the dreadful rhythm continued—boom… crack… boom… crack—until at last a deafening roar split the air. The ice wall burst open, shards exploding outward, and through the gaping hole the flood of beasts came pouring in, their shrieks rising above the collapse as they surged after the fleeing group.

The monster gained ground. Ash glanced back and saw it swipe at Xanathis. Her ears twitched — she leapt aside but stumbled and fell. The beast’s gaping maw lunged to bite her. Xanathis thrust her sword forward. "Blood Shield!" Crimson fluid poured from the gem, forming a protective sphere that held the beast’s jaws at bay. The barrier buckled as fangs pressed inward.

"Xanathis!" Ash yelled. Desperation fueled him as the barrier was slowly being crushed by its massive maw. He focused, holding out a finger as he remembered her teachings. A spark of light flickered at his fingertip, wavering, then stabilizing. "Light Beam!" A radiant beam shot forth, piercing the beast’s eye. It howled and staggered back.

Xanathis scrambled to her feet and ran to the group. The beast recovered and charged again, but Ash stood his ground, firing beam after beam until she caught up. She dashed past him, glancing at him with a relieved smile and spoke loud enough so he could clearly hear her. "I will thank you later—look forward to it." He turned to run with her as the swarm of smaller beasts rushed by the giant in pursuit.

After a hundred feet, they crossed from rubble into pristine ground near the metal head. It felt as though they had passed through a veil of water. Ernest pointed. "There — an opening!" A torn section of the metal head revealed a man‑made walkway leading into the colossal head.

They hurried inside. Looking back, they saw the beasts halt at the boundary. The massive one slammed its claw against an invisible barrier, ripples spreading across the unseen wall, but it held firm.

Xanathis exhaled. "Some kind of barrier. Keeps them out of this part of the city. Looks like we can rest easy."

The group caught their breath, then turned inward, staring into the depths of the massive metal head.

They entered the tunnels within the metal head, the air thick with the stale scent of dust. The walls were lined with conduits and strange glyph‑etched panels, many cracked or half‑powered, giving off faint pulses of colored light. Strange mechanical humming rose and fell like breathing, and drips of condensation echoed from the ceilings. It was clear that the humans who once lived here had turned this immense structure into a laboratory. Rusted tables sat beneath dangling lights, and advanced devices lay scattered among piles of notes. Documents were spread everywhere, their pages yellowed but ink still legible, diagrams sketched of the giant head and strange engines within it.

Ernest sifted through the scattered pages and gleaming fragments, his eyes wide. “This might be a jackpot for our sponsor,” he muttered, almost reverently. The thought of the knowledge lost here filled him with both excitement and unease.

Emma eagerly picked up a metallic component and lowered her goggles over her eyes. In the right lens, a glowing pentagram rotated slowly. “Incredible…” she whispered, her breath fogging the lens as the runes shimmered in her sight.

Karna tilted her head, curiosity plain. “That magic in your goggles—how did you acquire something like that?”

Emma smiled faintly, brushing dust from the piece. “It belonged to my mother. Enchanted by the fairies of our continent. Nothing too special—it simply magnifies my vision. Lets me zoom in, see details no one else could.” She adjusted the component, studying its flawless lines. “There are no imperfections. Whoever forged this worked with mastery. The damage here… likely from whatever tore this head from its body.”

Ernest leaned closer. “If we can decipher these documents and deliver them, our sponsor may continue the work this civilization left unfinished and discover something truly helpful.”

Ash crossed his arms, eyes scanning the humming panels that flickered dimly. He thought to himself that lingering too long here might dull their awareness. Aloud, he said, “There’s probably more ahead. Don’t get too attached to the first room.”

Emma and Ernest exchanged a glance, then gently set the documents and components back onto the nearest table. Emma sighed softly, brushing the dust from her hands. “We’ll come back to this once it’s safer.”

Ernest nodded, though his fingers lingered on the edge of a manuscript. “Agreed. Better to continue the search with the others before we lose ourselves in translation work.”

Together they straightened their packs and rejoined the waiting group.

They pressed on through the passage, their footsteps echoing off metal floors. More chambers opened along the tunnel—each lined with shattered consoles, broken glass containers, and walls etched with calculations. When they came upon a chamber stacked high with books, Emma gasped and rushed forward, her boots clanging against the metal floor. “Look at all of these!” she exclaimed, nearly tripping in her eagerness as she reached the first shelves.

Ernest hurried after her, excitement lighting his face as he reached for a volume with trembling hands.

Ernest’s eyes gleamed as he traced the spines, though the strange script was unreadable to him. He whispered in frustration, “The titles are in an ancient tongue… we’ll need to translate them first.” His fingers trembled as he pulled a book free, brushing the dust from its cover. “Even if I can’t read it yet, I can feel its importance. If we translate these titles, we’ll know where to begin.”

Emma joined him, her goggles magnifying the ancient script. “These diagrams… they’re not just blueprints. They describe experiments, entire theories of energy flow we’ve never even dreamed of. This is probably all lost knowledge from before the Shattering.” She flipped pages rapidly, eyes alight.

Karna wandered between the stacks, running her hand along the spines. “Strange that so much knowledge lies forgotten here. Did they abandon it willingly… or did something force them to?”

Emma frowned, hesitating before replying. “Sometimes knowledge becomes too dangerous. My mother used to say the brightest flames cast the darkest shadows.”

Ernest chuckled softly, though unease shadowed his face. He murmured instead, “Or maybe they reached too far, chasing power that consumed them.” Still, if we can preserve even a fraction of this, we might understand what they were doing in here.”

Ash lingered at the doorway, arms crossed. The sight of them marveling over the books stirred conflicting thoughts—part of him understood the value, but another part warned of unseen dangers. Knowledge left behind is often knowledge meant to stay buried—or was forced to stay buried.

He cleared his throat, watching them pore over the shelves with childlike excitement. “If you want to stay here and start translating, you can. Just keep alert. We’ll investigate the rest of the building. This place is still too quiet to trust.”

Ernest replied, “We won’t stay long. We just want to translate the titles of the books to see what variety they cover, then we’ll catch up.” Ash nodded in acknowledgement, then turned and proceeded out of the room.

With that, Ash, Karna, and Xanathis pressed deeper until they reached the main chamber of the laboratory. The ceiling arched high above them, cables as thick as serpents snaking across the floor into darkened hallways. At the center stood a colossal device, its sides studded with crystal conduits, and above it hovered a transparent sphere containing a radiant light. Ash froze as he spotted Lumin circling desperately around it. sometimes stopping and throwing itself forward with frantic bursts of speed, only to smash against an unseen resistance that rippled outward and flung it back. Again and again it tried, leaving streaks of luminous motes that drifted down like sparks before fading.

“Lumin!” Ash called, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. But Lumin didn’t acknowledge him, only hurling itself at the sphere in vain, its glow flickering and trembling with exhaustion and desperation.

Ash’s jaw tightened. His mind raced—what could be so alluring to Lumin that it would ignore him? He stepped closer, watching as the being collided with the barrier once more, pressed flat against it before being shoved away in a flash of scattered light. He had never seen Lumin so frantic or so unresponsive to his call. Whatever energy was locked inside that sphere, it was calling to Lumin with a force that disturbed him deeply.

He exhaled sharply and turned toward the others. His eyes lingered on each of them, weighing the risk of staying together versus covering ground quickly. The tunnels stretched out in multiple directions, dark mouths of iron and stone that seemed to breathe with the faint hum of unseen machines. “This place is too big to search as a group,” he admitted, his tone carrying both reluctance and resolve. “If we split up, we’ll cover more ground—but stay sharp. Check the passages, see what you can find, and let’s meet back here in an hour.”

Xanathis nodded slowly. “Agreed. But be cautious. This place may feel safe, yet old things may hide in the shadows. If you find trouble, run.”

They went their separate ways.

Karna gave Ash a sideways glance as they entered their chosen corridor. “I don’t like splitting up in a place like this. Too many shadows… too many places for things to hide.” Her voice was steady, but her fingers tapped lightly against her gauntlet as if betraying her nerves.

Ash offered a small nod. “I know. But if we don’t, we’ll be stuck here longer and we need to find the exit. Just stay alert.”

Xanathis smirked faintly, her tone light and teasing to cut the tension. “Worried already, little hero? If something jumps out, just make sure to scream loud enough for me to hear. I’ll come to your rescue,” she added with a playful glance at Karna.

Karna snorted softly, rolling her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t scream.” She muttered under her breath, at least I hope not.

Ash stayed quiet after that, listening to their voices fade as they each took their paths, the silence of the tunnels swallowing them quickly.

As Ash walked down his tunnel, he noticed that the lights ahead had all gone out, leaving the tunnel in heavy shadow beyond a few flickering glows. A chill prickled at his skin. Should I turn back? he wondered, but then shook his head. He pulled out a light orb, looked at it in his hand for a few moments then tucked it back into his pouch. No… I need the practice. Like Xanathis said, my capacity will only grow if I push myself. Holding out his palm, he closed his eyes, concentrating.

A faint glow flared to life, first no bigger than a candle flame before swelling into a trembling orb of light. It flickered and wavered, shrinking and expanding as though unsure of its shape, sometimes sparking out entirely before sputtering back. The glow pulsed unevenly across the tunnel walls, casting warped shadows that danced and vanished. The deeper Ash walked, the more the light bent, creating the illusion of movement at the edges of his vision. Every sound of his footsteps echoed longer than they should have, as if the tunnels themselves were listening. The glow was unstable, but enough to guide his way forward.

He continued until he found an open chamber. At its center stood a raised platform. Ascending the steps, he discovered a pedestal with a transparent orb resting atop it. Curiosity urged him closer. When his hand touched it, a sudden pull drained his mana. His light vanished, and the chamber erupted in blinding radiance. Ash cried out as the world around him vanished—and then he was gone.

Then Ash appeared with another flash of light and found himself in a pitch‑black chamber. The air was thick with dust, dry and heavy in his lungs, and the smell of age clung to every breath. He blinked into the darkness, but his eyes saw nothing. His attempt to call on the light but the magic failed—the earlier device had completely drained his mana. With a quiet curse, he fumbled into his pouch, retrieved his light orb, and activated it. The soft glow blossomed outward, illuminating the room.

He turned slowly, realizing the chamber was circular, with tall stone pillars rising up to support the ceiling. Shadows crawled between them as the light swept across. Ahead stood a massive door, almost identical to the one they had found at the entrance of the city. Yet this one was dark and lifeless—no shining mana crystals embedded within. The surface bore faint carvings of runes that had long since dulled. It seemed the door had run out of mana, its traps no longer active.

Beside the great door, a pedestal jutted from the floor, a sphere resting atop it. Ash approached cautiously, stretching out his hand. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, he felt the familiar pull as his mana began to drain away again. He recoiled quickly, shaking his hand as if to rid it of the sensation.

I’d better recover my strength before I try that again, he thought grimly. Lowering himself to the floor, he leaned against the platform, closed his eyes, and began to focus on drawing his drained mana back, steadying his breathing as silence pressed in all around him.

Along another path, Xanathis traveled in the darkness where her keen eyes could pierce the shadows thanks to the traits of her race. She walked in silence, her boots clicking softly, the echoes stretching down the seemingly endless hallway. The air was cold and stale, each breath tasting of stone and rust. The further she went, the more oppressive the silence became until she finally stepped into a massive hollowed-out chamber.

Before her stretched a single narrow bridge, spanning across a black void to an impossibly large building suspended in midair. It was held aloft by what looked like hundreds of thousands of stone pillars, woven together like the tangled strands of a spider’s web, their tips vanishing into the abyss below. The structure seemed otherworldly, timeless, and eerily still.

Xanathis pressed on, the bridge groaning under her weight as she approached the looming door. She placed her hand against its cold surface and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. Against the wall nearby sat a translucent sphere, cracked through its center. Xanathis studied it, brow furrowed. This must have been what opened the door once… but it’s broken.

She narrowed her eyes, summoned her frost, and carefully poured her power into the cracks. Ice spread like crystal veins, sealing the fractures perfectly. When she pressed her palm to the sphere, it drank greedily at her mana. With a hiss, the door shuddered, gears whining as ancient mechanisms came alive. Slowly, it swung open.

A rush of foul air washed over her—thick with the stench of rot and a black-purple mist that curled like smoke. Decay stung her nose and throat. She muttered under her breath, So this is the corrupting mist Franklin spoke of in his stories of Earth. Quickly, she tore a strip of cloth and wrapped it around her face to filter the air.

She entered cautiously. The first sight made her pause: bodies—skeletons half-sunken into black sludge, their bones sticky with corruption, limbs twisted as if clawing for escape. The walls were gouged with deep scratches, pulsing with faint veins of corruption, as if the dead had tried to batter their way out. Her eyes fell on another shattered sphere near the inside doorframe—the exit mechanism, destroyed. They were trapped here.

Xanathis moved deeper, her steps crunching on brittle bones. Rotting food lay strewn across stone tables, water tanks long dried. Ancient blood stains painted the walls in brown smears. The shelter had become a tomb. The air pressed heavier the further she went, her every instinct screaming to leave. She stopped, ears twitching—catching the faint echo of Karna’s scream far away through the halls.

With a sharp turn, she spun back toward the exit, urgency in her stride. Yet, in the deepest recess of the shelter, her disturbance roused something that had slept for centuries: a corrupted being. Once human, it had slaughtered all within to preserve its own twisted life. Now, sensing intruders again, it began to stir in the darkness.

Meanwhile, in Karna’s tunnel, she walked cautiously with a burning flame in her hand, the flickering light casting long shadows across the walls. At first nothing seemed out of place, the silence broken only by the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance. Eventually the corridor opened into what appeared to be a residential sector. Doors lined both sides, and in each chamber she peeked into there were beds, scraps of furniture, and desks scattered with bits of unfamiliar technology. The rooms felt frozen in time, as though those who once lived here had simply vanished.

She searched room by room, her unease growing with each empty bed and dust‑covered desk, but found nothing unusual until she came upon a massive sealed door at the end of the hallway. Bracing herself, she forced it open. A wave of putrid air washed over her, so thick she gagged. The chamber beyond was vast and pitch dark, her little flame swallowed by the shadows.

She stepped inside, peering into the gloom, when a sickening crunch followed by a wet splat echoed beneath her boot. Karna froze, then slowly lowered her gaze. The dim light revealed what she had stepped on—an ancient corpse, half liquefied by the ages, its insides collapsing into sludge that oozed across the floor. The realization struck her in horror, and a scream tore from her lungs, sharp and piercing. It carried through the tunnels, reverberating off metal and stone, until it echoed across the entire facility—even reaching the ears of Xanathis in the distant halls.

Ash finally regained his mana after what felt like hours of steady breathing and focus. When he touched the sphere beside the massive sealed door, that draining sensation returned—but this time he resisted long enough to feel the stone mechanisms grind to life. The titanic slabs of the door groaned and shifted, opening only a few feet before stopping. Dust fell from the ceiling with each tremor, and the gap was barely wide enough for Ash to slip through. On the far side he saw the reason: huge chunks of collapsed rock wedged against both sides of the doorway, keeping it from opening fully.

Beyond was a narrow passage, claustrophobic and damp, only wide enough for one person at a time. Ash pressed forward, guided by the dim glow ahead. When he finally emerged into the open, the light of the core bathed his face. He realized he was outside, standing on the far side of the mountain. The vast expanse beyond revealed the edge of the continent itself—a sheer cliff dropping into a swirling void. He exhaled heavily and muttered, “The backside of the mountain… at least there’s a way out.” But a quick glance at the glowing sky reminded him of the time. If he lingered, he would return late and make the others worry. Reluctantly, he reactivated the sphere and teleported back inside.

The instant he appeared, a scream ripped through the tunnels, echoing so loudly it made his pulse quicken. Without hesitation, Ash sprinted through the twisting halls, heart pounding, convinced something terrible had happened to the others.

But when he burst into the chamber he was met not with terror but laughter. Xanathis was doubled over, laughing at Karna’s expense. Wiping her eyes, she looked up at him with a grin. “So—how did it go?”

“I found the exit,” Ash replied curtly, still catching his breath. Moments later, Ernest and Emma hurried in, drawn by the commotion. “So you found the exit?” Ernest asked. Ash gave a short nod. “Yes. What about you? How’s the deciphering coming along? Any worthwhile books?”

Emma’s eyes sparkled. “More than that—it isn’t just a research library. There are entire sections of lost history, some from before the Shattering itself. The knowledge here is priceless.”

Karna raised a hand awkwardly. “While I was searching, I came across a corpse… and near it was this.” She produced a weathered journal and offered it to Ernest. “Maybe you can translate it?”

Ernest accepted the book carefully, flipping through fragile pages. “It’s damaged, but I can make out some entries. This might tell us what happened here.” He set the journal on a desk and began cross-referencing with another text, lips moving as he worked. Emma leaned closer eagerly. “Find anything good?”

Xanathis, arms crossed, spoke darkly. “I found nothing but death and corruption in my path. Avoid that tunnel if you value your life.”

Emma glanced nervously toward the shadowed corridor Xanathis had come from and swallowed hard. The group settled down to rest, the tension giving way to a brief reprieve. Ash, meanwhile, tried to coax Lumin into responding, holding out his hand. The little orb of light only circled the barrier sphere, ignoring him completely. Emma eventually approached him curiously. “No progress?”

Ash shook his head. “Lumin won’t answer me.”

She studied the hovering light. “So what exactly is this Lumin?”

He gave the same answer he always did. “No idea. It’s been with me as long as I can remember.”

Emma’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “What if we let it reach that light inside the sphere? Give me some time—I can translate the markings on the device. I might be able to open it and let Lumin closer. Could be interesting.”

Ash frowned but said nothing, watching her set to work beside Ernest. Time passed in a haze of scratching quills and muttered translations until Ernest finally straightened. “Alright. I’ve finished a portion.”

Emma leaned in quickly. “Well? Did you find something useful?”

Ernest sighed. “It’s a journal, but fragile. I managed to piece together only fragments. This city was once called Ceneras, a place where magicians and common folk lived together. They prospered by studying the head of the so‑called ‘Iron Angel’—that colossal metal head. They tapped into its power source to advance their technology. But then the world began to tremble. A mage returned with dire news: the planet itself was cracking, and a darkness had begun to spread across the continent. In the journal, it’s said this man showed signs of a corruption no one had ever seen before. Soon after, the city evacuated to emergency shelters to survive the Shattering. One poor soul—a non‑mage—didnt make it to the shelter in time and he was stuck outside the shelter. He couldn’t leave the city, and when the pets of the city turned feral, he remained here until his death unable to exit the protective barrier unless he wanted to be eaten by the beasts.”

Emma’s face grew pale. “So they called it the Iron Angel… we’ll need to comb the library for more records of that. Its origin might hold answers.”

Xanathis nodded grimly. “That also explains the corruption in the shelter I explored. The corrupted man didn’t just die—he transformed, slaughtering everyone trapped inside. Even now, just remembering that place makes my skin crawl as if his corruption still lingered in the air.””

They continued to sift through texts as Emma and Ernest worked on translating the control panel near the glowing sphere. But when they tried to activate it, the device sparked and failed—its functions ruined by time. Ernest, frustrated, resorted to kicking it in irritation.

“Stop,” Xanathis barked suddenly. Ernest froze mid‑kick as she raised a hand. “Do you hear that?”

From the dark tunnel ahead came a dreadful sound—something dragging itself across the floor. The scraping echoes grew louder and louder until a grotesque figure emerged. A swollen mass of blackened flesh, bones, and slime squeezed through the too‑narrow passage before bursting free into the chamber. Standing nearly eighty feet tall, its body was a grotesque mockery of humanity: a massive torso with long, lumbering arms, stocky legs, and a single burning red eye glaring from its head. Its form was studded with the remains of countless corpses, bones jutting out like twisted trees, flesh dangling in strings of rot. Goo and putrid fluids dripped steadily from its bulk, sizzling where they struck the floor.

Karna’s eyes widened, horror plain. “What… what is that thing?”

Xanathis’ hand tightened on her sword as she backed away. “It’s the corrupted man from the story… or what’s left of him. It reeks of the same corruption I found in the shelter. Somehow… he’s endured all these centuries.”

The group tightened their stances, weapons raised, as the lumbering monstrosity advanced, each thunderous step leaving a trail of rot in its wake.