“Achoo!!”
Rough, stifled coughs followed hot on the heels of an explosive sneeze, the sounds bouncing off the walls while stirring up the stagnant dust liberally carpeting the cement-enclosed tunnel.
Lucian absently rubbed at his nose as he walked down the narrow tiled passage, each heavy step caking his boots in an additional layer of dust while causing the loose-fitting hems of his boring brown cargo pants to acquire a more grimy, greyish shade.
His eyes rapidly darted from side to side, bouncing from bare cement wall to rusted metal sconce and then back again.
While he hadn't been expecting anything in particular prior to descending down into the tunnel, the numerous twists and turns it boasted was something he could have happily done without. What's more, with the emotionless mechanical voice's most recent reminder still ringing in his ears, he was constantly on edge every time he entered a different segment of the passage; just in case an Eye around the Corner was actually waiting for him just around the next corner.
The raven-haired man was just glad that the tunnel was awash in an abundance of firelight. With how tense his nerves already were, he feared to imagine how much worse it would have been if he had to worry about things jumping out at him from the shadows.
Furthermore, as a result of the numerous twists and turns the tunnel boasted, he had lost track of his exact position in relation to the room he had left. While the fact that said tunnel had been a single, continuous one thus far meant that he could simply backtrack and eventually find his way back, not knowing where he was exactly was still a nerve-wracking matter.
Lucian shook his head and dialled up his focus to the max at the approaching turn. Like some of the ones before, the rightwards leading tunnel was at a ninety degree angle to the segment he had been walking in for the last while.
Even though it didn’t look any different from every other previous turn so far, one slip up, a single lapse of attention… and snap! Pop goes the Lucian.
He tried his best to muffle his footsteps before coming to a stop right before the turn. Slightly peeking his head around the right wall's edge, he only let his light brown left eye poke out as he rapidly took in what lay ahead.
More blazing sconces. Another straight tunnel. But most exciting of all, a metal ladder riveted to the wall, one with rusted rungs that led up and out of his line of sight.
The raven-haired man's shoulders sagged as he breathed out a sigh of relief. Part of him really wanted to get this over and done with and run right over and climb up the ladder to—hopefully—escape this godforsaken tunnel.
However, even as the urge had just started to well up, a memory from just a while ago, when he nearly opened the Closet Horror's wardrobe in a fit of pique resurfaced in his mind; helping him quash the urge to act without at least some thought.
Reminding himself not to be negligent about his own safety, he stayed rooted to the spot and carefully observed every detail of the tunnel ahead. For all he knew, something innocuous might be a monster in disguise.
…
Eventually, he shrugged to himself before shuffling around the corner; not having spotted anything alarming.
It didn't mean that he was going to let down his guard or anything though. As he got closer to the innocuous ladder, he raised his gaze, trying to see what it led to. It was only after he had stopped right next to it when he succeeded in his goal.
Lucian wasn’t sure what he had been expecting after looking up, but it certainly hadn’t been another trapdoor, identical both in make and material with the one within his own room.
If not for the surety that he had left the first one wide open after his descent, he would’ve thought he had somehow gotten so discombobulated that he had unknowingly returned to his starting point.
Assuming this new trapdoor was really identical to the one in his room, he supposed that what lay outside of it was another similar room – one that would hopefully have an actual exit, this time.
Done with his survey, the raven-haired man supposed there was no more point in holding back his initial urge. Slightly adjusting his grip on the end table, he started climbing up without any further delay; while also triggering his Knowledge implant while he was at it.
Name: Metal Ladder.
Descriptor: A simple ladder rusted over from time and lack of care.
Remarks: It looks like the janitorial staff need to get their pay docked soon…
Though the end table in one hand and the sharp stabs of pain from the other made his ascent more difficult than it ought to be, he was able to distract himself from the difficulties by focusing on the mellifluous voice's interesting titbit.
Eventually, Lucian came to a deliberate stop two rungs away from the trapdoor’s underside. Straining his eyes and ears, he tried peering through the trapdoor's cracks while listening out for any noises on the other side, but only saw a bare ceiling in the area beyond while failing to hear anything even after his bandaged hand started loudly protesting at the strain.
While a lack of noise didn't mean there was nothing beyond the timeworn wood, it still made the raven-haired man feel a touch relieved, nonetheless. Instead of dilly-dallying for any longer, he scaled up the remaining two rungs before placing the end table's circular top flush against the trapdoor's cracked underside.
Pushing up his arm gently caused it to shift upwards a little bit., Realising it wasn't locked—much like his own—he immediately stopped moving.
The corners of Lucian's lips curled up in an amused smirk as he looked up, suddenly having a bright idea.
“Well then. A one, a two, a one-two-three!”
Bracing himself against the rungs as he counted down, the raven-haired man forcefully pushed off at three and unhesitatingly charged into the trapdoor's underside; the series of cracked wooden planks exploding into smithereens as he burst up into the area beyond.
“Eeeek!!!!”
Panic immediately flooded Lucian's system at the—human, female, his mind jabbered alarmedly—scream. Wildly looking around, he rapidly surveyed the room he found himself in while trying to locate the clearly terrified young woman.
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A room almost identical to his own. Chairs, tables, and wardrobes haphazardly strewn about. Two corpses, one recognisably a Closet Horror while the other was a mess of crimson goop and yellow chunks; likely to be an Eye around the Corner.
Finally, huddled away in a corner, as far away from the trapdoor as humanly possible; a young woman, pale-faced, both in complexion and expression, petite build curtained by a waterfall of silky hair as white as freshly fallen snow.
Even trembling as she was, the stranger still threateningly brandished a snapped off table leg his way in a white-knuckled grip; pale blue bloodshot eyes peeking through gaps in her pure white strands, a toxic mixture of terror and rage swirling in their icy depths.
He was struck by the sight of such fragility but quickly snapped out of it thereafter; the additional sight of coagulated yellow-streaked crimson goop liberally coating the jagged end of the stranger's table leg broadcasting she was a threat, irregardless of what her physical appearance might indicate.
The raven-haired man knew it was absolutely imperative to soothe the white-haired waif, stat, lest things spiral well out of control and devolve into an actual physical confrontation.
Hoping creating some distance would help, he slowly took a step back, end table hanging loosely by his side, as he tried his best to exude an air of friendly passivity.
Although the young woman twitched at his movement, she didn't do anything more than that. Thankfully, it didn't look like she was on a hair's trigger.
He stopped after taking several steps; close enough to converse at a comfortable inside voice but far enough not to spook her unnecessarily.
“Hey there, I'm sorry if I scared you.” Soft words flowed from his mouth as he slowly waved his injured hand in an apologetic greeting, making sure his end table stayed firmly glued to his side all throughout.
“My handle is El Knight, and As you can see, I’m a human, just like you.” To further demonstrate his friendly intentions, Lucian slowly spun in a circle, taking the risk to expose his back to the cowering young woman. Hopefully, his gesture of vulnerability would generate an iota of trust.
Even before he managed to fully complete his spin, it became clear his gesture had been well received.
“W-What are y-you even talking about? H-Handle? Do you really t-think this is a v-video game or s-something?! T-That’s not funny, you k-know!”
While her heavy stammering was a clear indicator of her fear, it wasn't able to fully mask her usual tone of voice; one akin to a songbird's, being both airily delicate and a touch melodic.
While a tad inappropriate, given present circumstances, Lucian couldn't help but hope the young woman would calm down soon. He had a feeling that her voice, when lacking any traces of fear, would be an absolute delight to listen to.
Internally chiding himself for having such an odd thought at such a time, of all times, he focused back on the here and now; trying to come up with a way to ameliorate the white-haired waif's fear as soon as possible.
After a brief second, he felt like changing the subject might be the best way to go about it. Immediately acting on his idea, he started speaking; voice unconsciously adopting a more gentle cadence as the raven-haired man was doing so.
“I don't know if this is a video game or something, but my Knowledge implant is the one that told me my handle. I'm sure you have an implant of your own as well, right?” Even while speaking, Lucian carefully assessed his unnamed interlocutor.
It became clear that his calm response and non-aggressive stance was having an effect, as her table leg had lowered by an inch and was drooping even further the longer he talked. Once he had said his piece, he fell silent and patiently waited for a response.
A somewhat tense silence hung between the two as the raven-haired man stayed still. Eventually, his patience was handsomely rewarded.
Abruptly rising to her feet in a surprisingly graceful movement, the white-haired waif pointed her single-handed weapon towards the ground even as she tremulously pulled her curtain of white locks over her shoulder. Soon enough, her demure, tear-streaked features fully came into his sights, letting him see that, while obviously still fearful, much of the rage he had initially seen was gone.
“Y-Yes, I do. I s-suppose that y-your implant lets y-you find out in-information then?” Traces of curiosity shined through in her eyes and voice, unable to be concealed in the latter's case even though her stammering was still prevalent.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Would you like to know what’s yours?”
“M-Maybe.” She answered hesitantly. “How d-does it w-work, exactly?”
Lucian opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but then snapped it back shut with a click; suddenly realising that blurting out he had to touch her, while things were still so shaky at that, wouldn't go over well.
Not in the slightest bit.
“Well?” The white-haired waif snapped out a single word, clearer than any time before, as one of her baby pink combat booted feet tapped an impatient rhythm against the floor. It seemed like his silence had lasted for too long.
“Uhm. Give me a sec? I don't want you to accidentally misunderstand my explanation.” Lucian quickly requested and received a demure nod in turn; the young woman's impatience disappearing in a flash as if it had never existed to begin with.
…
“Sorry for the wait. Thanks for being patient-”
“N-No need t-to worry~.”
“-as I wanted to say just now, all I need to do to find out your handle is to briefly make skin contact.”
The white-haired waif's plush pink lips parted at that, but Lucian cut in before she could voice any objections. “And don’t worry, it won’t hurt at all. We just need to shake hands for it to work.”
She skewed her head in thought while clasping her hands together in front of her abs, silence falling between the two once more. Content to give her all the time she needed, he didn't press her for an answer and gave her a proper once-over now that he had defused some of the tension.
The most attention-grabbing thing about her appearance wasn't her demure beauty, nor was it the overwhelmingly graceful aura exuding from her every pore even with her dishevelled state. Instead, it was how unscathed she was; neither her sleek white coat, with reddish-orange fur lining its collar and sleeves, nor her plain cream sundress, to even her porcelain-like skin, having acquired either a tear or scratch.
Assuming the state of her memories were a match for his own, such a feat was frankly impressive. Considering it was clear she had also dispatched at least two creatures while remaining unscathed, it was also insanely terrifying.
“O-Okay. I w-would like to know my h-handle. B-But you better not move f-from where you a-are right now! I'll b-be the one t-to come over to y-you, un-understand?” As the white-haired waif was voicing her conditions, she began moving forward; even if it still looked a touch hesitant.
He nodded affirmatively, seeing no problems with what she was saying. Having gotten the confirmation she sought, the young woman sped up noticeably, closing the remaining bit of distance soon after. Once she was in close enough range, she stretched out her unoccupied hand, slight tremours still visibly affecting her extremity.
Slowly passing the end table from his right hand to his left, Lucian stretched out the former even more slowly, making sure he wouldn't accidentally spook her with any sudden movements. The moment his extremity gently clasped her own, he triggered his Knowledge implant.
Handle – Transient Cardinal.
Health: Uninjured.
G. A. M. E.—#1.
Players Remaining/(159/201).
A beat after the mellifluous voice's first few words caressed the raven-haired man's ears, he let go of Transient Cardinal's hand and repeated all of the information he was hearing verbatim.
“… and that’s ‘bout it.” Lucian ended off. “Do you have anything else to ask?”
Throughout his recital, her fingers gently played with each other, single table leg held in between. Once he was done, she instantly shook her head. “N-No, and thank y-you. M-My handle is… a b-bit of a mouthful, isn't it. I-I wonder w-why I chose it.”
He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Trust me, you’re not the only one wondering that.”
“Speaking of which.” He quickly continued. “Mind if I just call you Cardinal?”
She nodded shyly. “P-Please go ahead. I-I’ll call you Knight, if y-you don’t m-mind?”
He shrugged uncaringly. “Go for it.”
A slightly awkward silence hung between the two after the exchange came to an end, both unsure how to proceed.
Instead of staring at her awkwardly, Lucian started looking around and properly surveyed the room. Soon after, a familiar reddish-black substance on the ceiling caught his attention and drew his gaze upwards. At the same time, Transient Cardinal had turned away and started putting away odds and ends into an aquamarine backpack, similar to the raven-haired man's brown one, sitting on one of the many tables in the room.
W A I T.
“Is that why you haven't left the room yet?” He abruptly asked, hand waving at the single word carved on the ceiling.
“Mmhmm.” She hummed distractedly, clearly focused on what she was doing.
Picking up on her distracted mood, he decided against asking any more questions. Circling around the debris from the broken trapdoor, he headed over to the last thing in the room that had caught his interest; namely, a solid metal door, one that would look right at home in a high-security vault.
While the metal door looked unscathed from a distance, his increasingly close proximity revealed the truth. Shallow pockmarks dotted its surface, faint white scratches scarring the spaces in between while being centred around a huge wheel.
Lucian's imagination whirred to life as he examined the numerous marks, wondering if some poor desperate soul had tried getting out or something. Spending another brief moment examining the scored metal, he gave it up as a lost cause when nothing else of note popped out at him.
Before turning the wheel, he threw a glance over his shoulder and saw that his new acquaintance was still busy. Supposing there was no harm in trying it out for himself, he set down his end table by the side, slightly out of the way of the door but still in reach, and stretched out his hand, getting a firm two-handed grip around the huge wheel.
The instant his skin met cool metal, the emotionless mechanical voice, absent up until now, made a reappearance; causing a shiver of apprehension to race up and down his spine as he keenly listened to what it had to say.
> We here, at Nightmares Unlimited, congratulate you on finding your partner for this GAME’s run.
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> One last piece of advice. There is a good reason why the two of your rooms are connected in such a way, so take heed and don't leave your partner behind.
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> There will certainly be some amongst your number that won't heed our advice, but we here, at Nightmares Unlimited, believe in freedom of choice.
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> To those individuals, we wish you the best of luck.
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> One final thing before we leave you be. The tutorial will come to an end the moment you leave this room.
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> In order to elevate your chances of surviving the upcoming trials, we have a gift for you.
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> And so, a question:
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> Given the choice, would you dwell in the mires of the Past, embrace the Present right under your nose, or look forward, to the shifting sands of the Future?
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> Your time starts now.