Extra 9: The Start

Chray didn't bother locking the door to the hovel he called a home, with the window broken it wouldn't take much to get in anyway and he didn't have time to fix it.

Not that there was much to steal anyhow, his meagre belongings fit quite nicely in his backpack.

The keeper’s mood had been lifted ever so slightly by the fact that when they entered their home, they found a scattering of money all over the floor, more than enough to pay for any damages.

They had nearly forgotten that their target had thrown money at them in apology, in the moment they had seen it as an attack instead of the reparations it was likely meant to be.

That only added to the most burning question on Chray’s mind.

“Who on Orsha is this guy!” he exclaimed to the empty room, with the exasperation of a man that had been holding back his thoughts for far too long.

Even before the incident the fugitive was a mystery, they popped out of nowhere and attacked random citizens with seemingly no reason as well as carrying around had a mysterious pet which was strong enough to defeat one of the most powerful people in the city with a single hit.

They made brilliant time travelling the land, such that Chray suspected that they never slept and appeared to have no particular goal or location they were going to.

Perhaps oddest of all, everywhere they went they wore a costume and never once were they seen with it taken off.

They could be convinced it was some kind of disguise that they took on and off whenever they planned an attack, except none of their sightings seemed planned.

The Golem had a habit of popping out of nowhere in the most random of places, attacking a random person, then running off.

It was for this reason that Chray needed to get back to the trail fast, if he lost his target there was a good chance he would never catch up to them again.

Chray shook his head, resigning to believe that some people were just crazy.

Crazy or not, they would have to die, Chray’s own life depended upon it.

He slung his belongings over his shoulder and began finding his way through the streets, making his way toward the revealed rebel hideout.

In truth, the Gitrirag wasn't too worried about the Golem themself, they seemed somewhat reluctant to fight and should make an easy target, even if they did have abnormally high stamina.

The issue was their pet.

Chray didn't even know what to call it, it looked like a cross between a living bush and one of those octopus creatures he had heard of that lived in the sea, if a octopus was also stronger than a Herkarash.

It had taken down the commander in a single hit, a single hit that didn't even seem to be the maximum extent of its strength.

Chray was weaker than the commander by a considerable margin, a hit like that would have guaranteed death no matter what they did to prepare.

There were too many unknowns, how fast was it, what was its range, could it even be killed.

What was it?

Whatever the case, Chray couldn't afford to risk taking it head on, he would have to separate the two.

He shook his head, there was no point theorising about that now, he would travel that road when he got to it.

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Eventually, the Keeper weaved his way into the outskirts, enjoying the relative quiet that the poorest part of the city brang.

If he listened hard, his enhanced ears could pick up on the snoring of people young and old crammed into the houses around him, exhausted by a long night of partying in the Kershakreheh.

Even after the festival, the inner rings were still lively, the shops and glamour attracting too many people for it to ever die down.

When Chray got to the front door of the abandoned building the Golem had escaped through, he activated his blessing, a path opening up in glowing orange.

The trail was blurry, as was expected for one that was a few hours old, but Chray had followed far staler before.

He opened the door and came face to face with two guards, no doubt freshly brought over from the simple-land.

One of them shot up and brandished their spear, seemingly unexpecting of visitors, but was quickly pacified by their companion.

It seems the administrator had had the kindness to warn them about him, Chray doubted he would get any other kindnesses from the man.

The keeper grumbled a word of greeting then made their way to the hidden entry, which was left open since their last incursion.

It took them a few minutes to make their way down the long ladder, the air growing stale around them.

“How do they get air circulation down here?” He pondered, he was no expert on caves and tunnels but he was pretty sure fresh air was hard to come by.

Chray shook his head and rid himself of the unnecessary thought, thinking that was a waste of time.

He needed to stay on task.

His boots touched down on the hard rock floor, sending out an echo in the silent ruin.

Chray stomped their right foot on the floor again, eliciting another echo, letting out a satisfied hum as he did.

Sometimes, if the conditions were right, Chray could work out the positions of walls and objects just by the sound of their echo and down here the echo was perfect.

He opened the door and continued to the split where the target had run away the first time, when they had tried to hide in the dark complex and its infinite halls.

Chray’s blessing led them to the left, enticing him to follow in the Golem's footprints, but if he did so he could spend hours wandering around in the dark, following the exact trail that was made entirely to distract him.

Instead, he deactivated his blessing, spent a moment basking in the reduced mental pressure, then reactivated it, with intent to find the second trail the Golem had made when they looped back on themself.

After a moment of mental arguing, the ability followed his demands and lit up a much fresher trail going to the left right in front of him.

The keeper followed it for all of about twenty steps when it sharply turned to the right, down a long corridor deep into the earth.

As Chray approached, he found that a barrier and what he assumed to be signs had been arrayed in front of the tunnel, all of which had been thrown aside.

It seems that the blessing was perhaps a little overkill for this tracking job.

Wishing to preserve some hope of banishing his ever present headache, he dissolved the orange glow that appeared in the eternal nothing of his blindness and instead relied on his other senses to make his way down into the deep, ignoring the sinking feeling the passage gave him and the dreadful knowledge that those signs he couldn't read were likely warnings.

With one hand on the wall and both ears listening for the slightest sign of life, Chray began to descend down the depths.

By the feel of it, the walls were covered in some variety of carving and while the keeper certainly could have stopped to work out what exactly was going on, he had already spent too much time in the city for his liking and was well aware that every second he delayed his target was getting away.

Besides, ancient carvings were for the educated to obsess over, the him he would have once been, not the hired muscle he was now.

He shoved those memories aside and carried on.

Chray didn't have to think about the carvings for too much longer, as soon enough they gave out to rough hewn stone and unfinished construction.

It occurred to the keeper that in all likelihood there was little to no light right now, as far down as they were, yet such things had stopped worrying Chray long ago.

Just another thing that made him good for the job.

As he worked his way down, the heat in the air got more and more intense, reaching almost the verge of Chray’s tolerance when the infinite staircase finally evened out.

A large room opened up in front of him, sprawling to the left and right.

It seemed that the Golem had gone left according to his blessing, and as such, he followed, disliking the still increasing heat and the new wave of humidity.

It was only when he got within thirty steps of the doorway the target had escaped through did the Gitiriag truly recognise the problem.

Somehow, someway, the Golem had escaped into a vent of superheated steam, far hotter than anything even an enhanced human could hope to withstand.

“Who the rashka is this guy?” Chray lamented.