They arrived at the museum, a small complex of buildings devoted to specific eras and themes. Sly guided him through the front entrance of the main building and talked to the staff at the front desk. Apparently the Asutnahem relics were displayed at the Archaeological section near the center of the museum’s complex.

“I only need 15 minutes,” Hunter said. Sly nodded and triggered his wrist watch.

“15 minutes,” his bodyguard agreed.

Hunter recognized the building. Although he’d forgotten how the museum was laid out, he remembered his father bringing him here so many years ago. The entrance of the building was flanked by two giant mythological creatures carved out of stone. They had the bodies of men but with lions’ heads. They held spears in one hand, and the other hand was held over their chest. Hunter read the information on the small stand just beside one of the statues.

Little is known about these figures, but they are presumed to be an idealized form of a warrior. The marking on the back of the hand covering their chest means ‘peace,’ while the other hand wielding the spear is believed to symbolize the balance of peace and a forceful defense.

Hunter observed the rest of small building. It was a showroom, maybe 1000 square feet. The biggest displays were around the walls, so Hunter decided to start there. He didn’t have much time to explore everything.

He walked right up to one of the displays he remembered the most. A painting of a man attempting to pull up a net which stretched down to the ocean’s depths, having captured great, terrifying creatures. He stood on a small sailing boat, and Hunter recognized the symbol on the boat’s mast, it was the same as Trey’s necklace.

Glimpsing beneath the surface.

"Or self knowledge, depending on who you asked," he muttered. He read the description of the display.

This is the 2nd painting in a series of 4. Like most Asutnahem relics, scholars are unsure of their exact age, or how the ancient Asutnahem had managed to keep them preserved for such a long time. It is believed that the painting is meant to illustrate the pursuit of wisdom, and the folly of the human mind. The figure is featured in all 4 paintings, and scholars have dubbed him The Journeyer.

Hunter observed the next display.

The 3rd painting in a series of 4, detailing The Journeyer's tale. Here, it is assumed that his time at sea has left him stranded. Behind him is a resplendent kingdom, whose gates are closed, and whose guardians stand with their spears ready, they look at The Journeyer with hostility. He stands upon the shore, observing his distorted reflection on the ocean’s surface. His reflection is wearing a crown and covering one of its eyes, but the Journeyer's remain clear, and his face is calm, unconcerned with the hostile men behind him.

Hunter studied the figure of The Journeyer. The design on his shirt seemed familiar, and after a minute, he realized that it almost looked like the Link sub-glyph.

Very interesting, Hunter thought to himself. He was starting to see why his father might have developed such an obsession about these paintings, and the people who created them. In the sky, high above The Journeyer and the kingdom was the symbol that he’d noticed on the hands of the lion-men at the entrance, the one that stood for peace. Hunter wondered what it all meant, unfortunately, he didn’t really have the time to figure it all out. The time limit he’d set for himself felt like it was the practical thing to do— it eased his mind and Syl's. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish he could stand here for a while, and contemplate.

Maybe this is what his dad had felt, all those years ago. Hunter felt that the paintings held a wonderful depth— meanings that could unfold and synergize the same way etherium could. He felt the same pull to understand and investigate that he did when he was creating constructs, and feeling the pulsing songs of etherium. He closed his eyes and considered the feeling.

What he was feeling wasn’t emotional. It wasn’t just curiosity, there was something else. He couldn’t place it, but the feeling was something deeper.

“6 minutes,” Sly said. Hunter opened his eyes and moved on.

The display informed him about the final painting of the series, yet there was one more painting next to it.

Although this is considered the 4th and final chapter of The Journeyer's tale, the paintings have been displayed the way they were found. The next painting is believed to be the first in the series, but scholars believe it was placed at the end for the sake of poetry; reminiscent of the hero’s journey, and returning home. In this final chapter, the Journeyer is depicted at having reached a phase of ascension, symbolized by being clothed in light. He holds out his hands, and projects a symbol that has yet to be translated, but in the theme of the story, it is assumed to mean “completion.” The kingdom which had once viewed him with hostility now follows him, head bowed in respect as they study his footsteps in the sand.

With only a few minutes left, Hunter observed the first painting, that he supposed was meant to both start, and end the tale of The Journeyer. It shows him as a child, his hair is the same, his eyes are the same color, and he wears the same sandals that he had as an adult. He stands upon a precipice, leading into dark and unknown depths. A woman stands across from him, across a great chasm, and holds out her hand, inviting him to cross. Hunter then notices that The Journeyer is holding a hammer, and some nails, and there are wooden boards and a rope beside him.

Was he going to build a bridge across the gap?

Behind The Journeyer is a raging inferno, within which was painted a symbol. He hadn’t seen it before— unsurprising given his lack of interest in the Asutnahem until now. Hunter read the paintings’ description.

Scholars believe that this is a tale of heroism, and the flame is believed to represent a force that pushes the hero to accepting the call of his destiny, symbolized by the woman inviting him from across the chasm. If the hero refuses the call, the flame will take him. But by accepting the call, he risks falling into dark uncertain depths. The symbol in the flame has had many names over the years, but scholars almost unanimously believe that it means revelation.

Hunter felt like he could relate to the Journeyer. He saw Sly glance at his watch, but just before he could say anything, a few loud pops echoed from outside. A high pitched siren sounded throughout the museum’s campus. It hurt Hunters ears, and before he could ask what was going on, Sly grabbed Hunter and reached under his own jacket, pulling out a firearm.

“Those were gunshots,” Sly said. The words felt like they sapped the warmth out of Hunter. He didn’t know what to say.

“What do we do?” Hunter asked.

Why would their be an attack the museum? Why would they do it today, of all days?

Trey led Hunter to the back exit of the building, which had a large warning written in red, informing them that using the door would activate an alarm. Sly opened the door, keeping his gun slightly covered by his jacket. Hunter couldn’t see past him, but Sly cursed and shut the door. He pulled Hunter with him towards the front door of the Archaeological building, and looked both ways.

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“Let’s go,” Sly said, once more dragging Hunter towards the main building. Hunter hadn’t been sure which direction he’d heard the gunshots coming from. How did Sly know they weren’t walking right towards the attackers?

Hunter felt every single absent point of his AR. If only he weren’t so physically weak, maybe he’d feel more confident defending himself. But what would he use? He didn’t have a gun, so would he fight off his armed attackers with a stick?

What he would be able to do is build constructs that could help him. Stronger, more complex constructs than he’d ever been able to build before.

Sly yanked him out of his train of thought. Hunter let out an involuntary grunt. Sly glanced at him and whispered an apology.

“I saw some masked men with guns in the next building over. I’m hoping they’re all contained to the south of the campus, but we’ll need to be careful and quiet until we’re back in the car. Just follow me, do what I say, and we’ll fine. Okay?” Sly asked. Hunter nodded.

What else was he supposed to do? He’d have to trust Sly to do his job.

The sliding door to the main museum building revealed a corridor that stretched to the left and right. The alarm had been shut off, and Hunter wondered if that was good news, but a shout and another gunshot snuffed the small ember of hope before it could take hold.

“This way,” Sly guided him to the left, away from the gunshot, “stay behind me, if we cross an intersecting hallway, you’re going to use me as your cover as we pass, but I need you to keep up, got it? We need to keep moving.”

Hunter nodded again.

They crossed a few hallways, Sly literally guarding Hunters body with his own. Hunter was starting to feel confident that they’d make it out of the museum without incident. They studied one of the museums layout maps, with a small circle that said you are here, and it showed that the museum’s entrance was nearby. Sly figured that taking the front entrance would be a bad idea, and they plotted a route to one of the building’s employee exits.

They were about to cross another hallway when they were spotted.

“You! Stay right there!” someone yelled as they were passing another hallway intersection. Hunter froze, and Sly cursed, standing between Hunter and the man who’d called to them. Hunter could barely see him past Sly’s bulk. The man wore a facemask, and was aiming a rifle at them as he walked towards them.

“Get on your fucking knees, don’t move a muscle. Drop the gun and push it away from you.”

Hunter had a sudden flashback to his last interaction with the Comics, and he bit his tongue, following Sly’s lead and got to his knees.

“Put your hands up, do not move. I will kill you,” the man said as he got closer. Hunter and Sly both raised their hands after Sly put his gun on the ground.

“What do we do?” Hunter whispered.

“Just do as he says,” Sly said, his voice low, “If you see me move, lay on the ground. Be as still as possible until I say otherwise.”

“Shut the fuck up, I won’t warn you again,” the man said. Hunter felt that everything was out of control. The man was out of his mind— what if he decided to shoot them anyways? There was nothing that Hunter would be able to do about it. He would have trouble surviving a well-placed punch.

A gunshot wound? There’s no way he’d be able to survive.

The man was just a few feet in front of them now. Someone else yelled down the hallway. Another armed man, but his gun was hanging off his strap. He had one hand in his pocket, and the other on a mobile phone. As soon as the man closest to them turned to see what his friend wanted, Sly moved.

He used one hand to push the gun towards the ceiling as he tackled the man to the ground. He punched the man’s face and the plastic mask he wore broke. He tore the gun from the man’s grasp, aimed it at the second man who had only just started to respond to the attack by reaching for his weapon, and fired three times.

Hunter had remembered a moment from when he was a child, when one of his friends threw a ball at him. It had hit him just below his chest, and he remembered the sound of all the air leaving his lungs, and the gasping sound he made as he struggled to inhale. The man made the same sound after the first shot, and then he started to gurgle as the second shot tore through his throat. The third shot seemed to hit one of his hands holding the rifle, and he dropped it as his body collapsed.

Sly hit the man he’d just tackled with the butt of the rifle. While the man was stunned, Sly stood and shot the man in the head. Hunter couldn't take his eyes off of the two dead men. He had never seen someone die before, was he supposed to be feeling regret or guilt? Maybe disgust?

All he felt was relief. He was glad it was them, and not him.

He looked at Hunter with disapproval on his face. He picked up his own gun and placed it back in its holster under his jacket.

“I thought I told you to get as low as possible,” he said, pulling Hunter off of his knees and aiming the rifle back down the hallway, “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

They made their way down another hallway, shouting voices echoing behind them. The turned down another hallway, and saw people running into a room. They spotted Hunter and Sly and seemed afraid when they saw Sly’s rifle.

“We’re the good guys,” Hunter said, raising his hands.

Sly tsked and raised his hands as well, but didn’t drop the gun.

The shouting was getting closer. They could hear footsteps among the echoing voices.

“We don't have time for this. You guys stay quiet.” Sly said, pointing at the people who still didn’t quite know what to make of Hunter and the bodyguard. Sly started to pull hunter along, but Hunter wondered if that was the best decision.

“Shouldn’t we stay with them?” Hunter asked as Sly dragged him further down the corridor, constantly checking behind them, looking left and right, assessing the optimal route.

Sly shook his head.

“They’re like fish in a barrel,” he said, “and most of them will be too stressed to see that. the last thing you want to be caught in is a crowd, especially when the enemy doesn’t seem to have inhibitions.”

“So, where do we go?” Hunter asked.

“That’s what i’m trying to figure out. I still think our best bet is one of the employee exits. We should be close to one now.”

They heard more gunshots behind them, and frightened screams.

“They’ll be delayed while they deal everyone. We need to get more distance between us and them,” Sly said, walking faster, his hand holding Hunter shirt in a death grip. Hunter did his best to keep up, but couldn’t help but feel like he was being dragged.

Eventually they found one of the employee exits. Unfortunately, it was being guarded by more masked men. They decided to trace their way back down a hallway, and take another route. Hoping that there might be one more exit along the side of the building they were on.

They turned another hallway, and one of the signs at the corner said that they were close to the museum’s entrance.

“Should we risk it?” Hunter asked. Sly shook his head.

“Its too risky. I’d rather find a room to barricade ourselves in and wait this out. I guarantee law enforcement will have the museum surrounded by now. They might even have a ship overhead.”

“Why haven’t they stormed the place?” Hunter asked.

“They’ll want to assess the threat level to make sure that innocent people aren’t going to be caught in the crossfire, which is exactly what the terrorists are hoping for. They’ll try and negotiate their way out of here, using hostages as leverage.”

“Didn’t you say that they don’t care much about losing their lives?”

Sly shrugged.

“It does appear that way, but human minds can shift direction very quickly, and often without you even realizing it. Most of them might believe they’re willing to die for their cause, but when it comes down to it, survival instinct is a hell of a thing.”

Maybe he was right, Hunter thought. Maybe they’ll be taking hostages.

“The people we left behind,” Hunter said, starting to think out loud, but Sly interrupted him.

“Right, hopefully most of them will be safe. At least for the time being.”

“Where can we hide, though?”

“Nowhere,” a voice said from behind them, “drop the gun, and get your your knees. Hands behind your heads.”

Hunter felt himself constrict. The room suddenly felt hot and he was having trouble breathing, he realized he was panicking but he focused on doing what he was told. Sly had closed his eyes and sighed, dropping the gun and getting on his knees.

It was a woman who had spoken to them.

“Now, my men are going to pat you both down. You’re not going to make any sudden movements. There are many more of us here and only two of you. My guys are also ready to lay down their lives at a moments notice, catch my drift?”

Hunter nodded. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt 3 sizes too big. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Two men came and patted them both down. They were rough, and Hunter felt his shoulder start to slide out of its socket for a second as they lifted him up. He winced, and knew that he was also going to have a few more bruises forming around his body in a few minutes.

They took Sly’s handgun out from under his jacket. The woman huffed when she saw it.

“Armed in Oberon territory. What are you, law enforcement?” the woman asked.

“Something like that,” Sly said, “you should let us go if you don’t want trouble with the guys outside.”

She laughed.