The route is linear and the ivy is the only source of light. As I remember, it takes me several hours to reach the crossroads where the cave separates.

This time I don't want to go back.

I smell the air to intercept any odors and I strain my ears to pick up any sounds. The most tempting tunnel will be the one I travel through.

But neither offers signs of life. Silence, odorless, and dark beyond luminescence.

I therefore decide with common sense. I will always keep the same direction so as not to get lost at any upcoming crossroads.

I will always and only go to the right, keeping close to the ivy wall.

It's an old trick passed down to me from my father. In the labyrinthine sections of the dungeon, I shouldn't lose my way like this.

I always underestimated this approach because I have [Dungeon path] but now I feel grateful to know it.

Then I take the tunnel on the right. Then the one on the right again. A descent and then right again.

I continue like this for a long time and I get sleepy.

I approach a mixture of ivy and moss near the entrance to the next crossroads and lie down.

It's relaxing.

All in all, I feel good. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what I want to get from this research—actually, I know: I want to satisfy my curiosity.

Do something that isn't tied to just duties. And that makes me feel good. I feel light and my eyelids droop.

♦

I wake up welcomed by the light of the plants. I yawn and rub my eyes. I stretch my legs and arms and stand up.

My snake-headed tail is probing the ivy-covered wall. I get closer and dodge some leaves. There are symbols engraved on the wall, they seem to be a sort of language different from that of the grimoire.

I check other points on the wall and notice that the symbols are far from rare. I try to think about when, but I have no idea where they started.

They are bas-reliefs of a few millimeters in the rock and are written in units of nine. Meh. The mystery deepens.

“Open.”

The grimoire does not appear. I wonder if the area has been mapped so far or not. I'll find out by going back, even if it's not exciting.

I continue my journey, continuing through the tunnel where I fell asleep.

I continue to turn right. In several places, the tunnels go downhill, even becoming steep. Luckily the ivy is resistant and I can use it as a handhold to help me.

Now and then I glimpse shapes. By touch, I understand that they are rectangular, triangular, and circular. They are hoisted on iron poles and are as thin as a hand.

If I tap them, they look like iron sheets, but the luminescence of the ivy often illuminates the base, changing in colors but always saturated, preventing me from seeing the rest. And touch doesn't help add details.

I continue to advance and the walls gradually become more oval, homogeneous, and composed of vaulted slabs. The plants are having a harder time taking root and have broken through the walls to open gaps in the concrete.

Therefore, even in the area [A-9], provided that it can be considered as such, there are buildings.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Interesting.

The amazement is doubled when observing the writings on the walls. There is less ivy, so there is less light, but it is more evident that the writings permeate the entire structure.

Ci-cin.

My breath puffs up. Has the temperature dropped?

I couldn't tell, I'm not cold.

I have no more rights to take. The road has become straight and long and the plants are becoming rarer. Hours later there are no more plants and the path is dictated to me by a distant white light.

Crock.

The sound of thin ice breaking as I pass. Cold water wets my foot.

Ci-cin!

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

I cast the spell instinctively to see the area. But nothing happens.

I try to keep close to the wall so as not to slip. The ice cracks and creaks for a few miles but eventually stops. Under my foot I continue to feel the cold and smooth slab, I think it has become thicker. Nonetheless, since [Dungeon path] and [Shadow wall] are not functioning, I prefer to stay close to the wall.

The light becomes more powerful and bigger but I don't see what lies beyond. My breath is cold but overall, I don't feel cold except in my extremities.

Those sorts of metallic shapes are still present and stand out like black silhouettes in contrast to the strong light. When I turn to observe the illuminated side, I realize that I am still too far away. The silhouette is lost in the darkness of the tunnel.

And so, I continue.

Curious.

Open to all kinds of surprises. Even to any alien landscapes. I'm ready to…

…This!?

♦

Ice.

Ice is the first thing you see when approaching the exit from the tunnel. A round exit, of what I understand to be a pipeline.

The blue and white ice that covers everything, is buried in darkness.

There is no wind. And the lights at the end of the duct are artificial. They delimit an open space on the ice and a path illuminated by spotlights and lighthouses placed at regular distances from each other originates.

In general, the spotlights are in groups of twenty, about ten meters away from each other, while the spotlights interrupt the chain of spotlights.

Numerous tangled and frozen cables disappear into holes under the ice and from the hum, I deduce they supply electricity to the lighthouses.

I am not an expert on the subject, but these technologies are widespread in part of the populations of the cosmos and I remember my father talking to an Earthling about magical electrification.

What I see coincides with what I remember, so I should have understood and I decided not to think about it anymore.

There are more interesting things to think about. Has this area been inhabited? Or is it always the result of the inscrutability of the System?

I scratch behind my ear and sit near a spotlight. They warm me up and I massage my extremities numb from the cold.

♦

Since the headlights are the only source of light, I follow the traced route. Underfoot there is only a thick glacier and gigantic pipelines emerge and immerse themselves in the darkness. The lights run alongside them for long stretches and I often see the point from which they emerge from the glacier.

Other dim lights indicate distant paths and it is clear that they lead to other paths similar to the one I am following.

Hours of walking later [Will-o'-the-wisp] can be seen in the sky.

Better, they look like [Will-o'-the-wisp] but they light have the size of towers, they emit smoke, and their flame is a dirtier dark blue than my magic one.

As I get further closer, other green lights and headlights placed at different heights outline the outline of monumental and square structures. The darkness remains prevalent and it is not possible to establish more than this.

♦

The lights end at a large external staircase. It is a type of hard stone structure, typical of the Underwasteland. The only anomaly is that it penetrates the ice, continuing in depth.

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

Nothing.

“Open.”

Nothing.

Do I have to reach the top of the staircase in the dark?

Ci-cin.

I draw the sword out of my umbrella to provide a minimum of light and go up.

The door at the top of the staircase is closed and resembles the Golden Doors. Differently, it's made of a metal alloy. I'm not familiar with it. It's covered in a layer of ice.

I check the surface for any handles or locks and run my hand over the surface.

AHI!

Ci-cin.

A protruding stinger cuts me and green blood drips from my hand, smearing it.

Instead of oxidizing, the blood freezes and metallic clanks alert me. I grip my sword and look around but it's no use.

The door opens. An empty hall illuminated by more electric magical lights.

Oh! Here the matter becomes even more interesting… the further I advance, the more I feel like I am part of a story.

One of those who the deceased that I welcome tell me about.

It can't be a coincidence that this door opened with my blood, there must be a meaning. In this area, my powers are limited, yet the door has opened.

Maybe I'm rushing too much, but an electrifying rush of excitement prevents me from evaluating the negative sides and the possible drawbacks of the situation.

I am discovering something unknown to all my ancestors! Even those like my father who have lived for a very long time!

“Hehe! I’m coming!”

«He… he… he… I'm coming… I'm coming…»

Uh, echo?