In an old mansion that reeked of dirt, pesky filth, and musty saps.
A figure sporting a black cloak and a liquid-sty mask trod this dark house, pointing a flashlight and searching the open enclosure.
Its footsteps silent.
Its breath silent.
The silhouette's bones started creaking. Its erect form abruptly switched.
On its four limbs, it stood, and with its nose, it smelt, smelling the thick air; hefty mist entered its mask.
"It's not here," the crouched figure said; its voice creaking and screeching.
The silhouette pushed aside the boxes in front of it, tearing through the dirty ropes. However, its goal was not in sight.
Suddenly, the figure tossed the flashlight it bore, smashing the item upon the cement walls.
"JK%TH," It yelled, and with a flick of its hands; a misty picture formed.
"We Initiate GooG 010!" The sound permeated through the complex. The figure dashed through the broken window, fading out of the dim room.
…
In a parking lot of bronze and silver, decorated by crimson banners and adorned by radiant designs, a place filled with different dark shades of automobiles. In the center of this parking lot stood Alistair, Penelope, and Reginald, watching as the guards attended to them.
"Madam Penelope,"
Alistair looked over as the guards stabbed their staff onto the ground and saluted.
"Hello, Mr. Fevorey," Penelope waved with her eyes closed, and a smile hung on her lips. "I'm looking for someone. Do you know where he is?" She asked cheerfully.
"Who may that be, ma'am?" Fevorey became shocked when she called his name but hid it.
"Revan, my husband,"
"Yes, would you like me to lead you to him?" Fevorey asked.
"Yes, If it's not much of a bother,"
Fevorey peered at his partner. "Yoo Relix, I will lead Madam Penelope and her companions inside, so stand watch."
Felix nodded and gave Fevorey a thumbs-up before going back to his duties.
The trio followed the guard, and they trod forward with steady steps. Soon they reached a gold elevator, and the guard clicked a bunch of red buttons in it.
As it spread open with a rippling sound, the luminous yellow light of the elevator welcomed them.
The interior was of a glinting gold shade that possessed gaps in its shape. Inside the gaps were swirling gears of various sizes.
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The floor under them had a reflective spiral shape that gleamed with holy light while emitting a shimming sound.
When they entered the elevator, the gears spun round, and the white wires attached to them rolled in unison. The entire machine descended, sliding down the walls on its path.
The journey down took a while, and Alistair's hands moved to touch the cogs. However, he retrieved it as a static shock charred him. The item he touched released yellow steam and smelt of burnt metal.
Penelope, upon smelling it. "Alistair, don't touch anything," she scolded; she did not want Alistair to lose his hands in the process.
Alistair did not answer since he was observing the cogs in fascination. After he was done, Alistair asked, "Why is it left open... Isn't it dangerous?" He gazed at Penelope with a raised brow.
"If it closes would affect the surveillance symbols on it, sadly," Penelope said. She pointed at a transparent camera-like object on the gears. "Like that one."
"That makes sense," Alistair nodded as he saw the lens that watched them. He focused back on the wires, using them to pass time as the lift moved down.
Suddenly, it stopped, and smoke hauled out from the surface. The doors opened.
They appeared in a dimly lit hallway the size of an elephant, and Fevorey walked ahead. His steps were inaudible as he passed by the statues in the Hall.
The trio followed and stopped when they reached a massive silver gate decorated with animal artwork. The guard placed his hand on it and pushed it.
It was a vast purple-bronze room filled with an endless sea of people and machines that moved with purpose. Fascinating creations of steam soared through the air releasing purple miasma from their backs, while others gracefully rolled across the ground. Their intricate designs were a testament to the heights of this era's technological achievement.
The atmosphere was reminiscent of a mineshaft and a museum, with glass structures that housed ancient artifacts, including rocks etched with mysterious hieroglyphs and imposing monoliths.
"Penelope, Alistair…" They heard from the crowd. Soon after, a man ran forth and met with them.
"Revan!" Penelope said as she watched him dash to them.
Revan wore a munsell-yellow suit with shady gray stripes and a bronze clock necklace that swayed with the wind.
"Hello, honey." Revan kissed the side of Penelope's cheeks. After that, he ruffled Alistair's crimson hair.
"Hey, dad," Alistair said nonchalantly as he removed the hand from his head. He looked past his father to further observe the setting.
Revan shook his head at Alistair's act and breathed in tiredness, but he said, "Your friends also came; they are right over there... by that Azatoc rock."
Revan pointed at a group at his left. Alistair recognized it was Elina and the rest.
"I'll catch up with them later; they're not too important for now," Alistair replied as he put his hands in his pockets, and a frosty air leaked from his mouth.
"Ice cold much," Reven joked as he held the urge to laugh.
Alistair rolled his eyes. "You won't understand."
Alistair stopped paying attention to the conversation. He scrutinized workers smashing pickaxes on one of the monoliths, while another set of people took note.
"What are those monoliths for?" Alistair said with ragged breaths. "They look important."
"They are important, a relic of the past… I can't believe we're this close," Revan said and pointed to the writing on each of them. "Those are ancient texts, written in Macript,"
Alistair nodded with his hands under his chin. "Oh,"
'Macript huh, language of the Tetorras, the outsiders.' Alistair contemplated, his eyes darting around. Although the Macript that researchers retrieved from the Tetorras was incomplete, Alistair took note of the words steel, rust, gene, disease, ether, and life sequence.
Alistair assumed the words that glowed brighter in intensity indicated their significance, so he re-listed it in ascending order.
"Gene… Steel… Rust… Ether… Life Sequence." Alistair trailed off as he got to the one that shone the brightest. The word was scratched and scorched while smudged by a fluid like oil.
"… Disease."