The darkness engulfed me like a silent wave. Cresting high then falling with an overwhelming impact of nothingness. Not only had I lost my sight but also my hearing had become muffled in this unknown space. It was disorienting to say the least. The only foundation of awareness I had left to me was the sliver of red light that streaked down the center of the hall. However, it was fading and fading fast.

I crouched low and kept my right hand on the wall. Slowly I crept forward trying to imagine what the room might look like. It was fruitless as not only had I gone less than ten steps into the room that I had knocked something over. It felt like a picture frame and the sound of breaking glass seemed to confirm it. The sharp sound cut through the shadows and made me feel exposed. I waited to see if there was any kind of reaction but I only heard the distant sound of the dusk winds.

So I continued on, slow and steady, trying to avoid creating any more noise. A few times my hand brushed across the lower part of a picture frame or a leather sofa tucked against the wall. Whenever I felt something I would stop in my tracks and assess what it was, how big it was, and if I could move around it without losing my guiding touch. Then before I knew it the wall fell away from my fingertips as it turned off to my right.

I knew that my next destination would be the door on the far wall at the end of the hallway. Seeing as my sight was still adjusting, I couldn't tell how far the wall to my left would be. I moved my hand down until I felt the carpet and kept low until I came to the other side. It was a wider hallway than I expected and I was worried I had ended up pressed against the small alcove I saw on the map. I had to calm the anxiety that constantly tried to rip my attention away from my goal. Run! It said, echoing Lupin's voice. Run from the darkness! Lost in the darkness!

I stood up, blinked my eyes several times and felt a small comfort come to me as a soft light blinked at the end of the hallway. It was subtle, green and went on and off every few seconds. I didn’t know what it was but it gave me another point to center on. I oriented myself towards the light, found the wall to my left and started down another hallway.

My hand drew across a few inlaid doors with glass panels. I couldn’t see what was inside the rooms and I thought about testing the first door I came to but decided against it. I wanted to get to the rare loot first then I could search for supplies. I passed by two more doors before finally reaching the last one. It was entirely glass, though cloudy, and it was slightly open. Above the door was an exit sign. It was the green light I had followed and it was flickering off and on.

I went to push the door open and stopped when my foot hit something. Whatever I hit was keeping the door open. My eyes still wandered the dark but the soft green light started solidifying the world around me. It took me a half minute before the exit signs illuminated the body that laid halfway through the doorway. It was old, covered in dust and missing its lower half. It was nothing but bones and an old suit. The skeleton’s clothes were torn straight down as if the person had tried to crawl away but was dragged backwards.

I tried to push the door wider but it was stuck on something. At first I thought it was the skeleton but something was blocking it on the other side. I stepped lightly between the skull and doorframe trying not to touch the dead body. I squeezed through, shuffled my steps and managed to make it into the next room. Everything was clearer on this side of the door thanks to a small lamp with an odd yellow light. The lamp was barely brighter than the exit sign and it was sitting on a receptionist counter fifteen feet from me. Below it, piled halfway up the counter, were more bodies. A dozen mummified remains thrown into a heap of rags and bones. It was the reason the door had trouble opening.

The room smelled fetid and dusty. The air was difficult to breathe and my eyes started to itch. Everything about this office space felt like walking through a crypt. The gray walls were awash in urine yellow, and the carpet, a once beige color, was now stamped down to look browner. There were long trails of rust-colored lines that ran from the pile of bones to varying directions throughout the complex.

I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt and tried to breathe slowly. I moved as far from the pile of bones as I could and started towards the large wooden doors on the other end of the room. I made it five feet when I stopped. I knew what it was before I looked at it. A soft light that was glowing from the pile of bones. It was a loot item. A common one but it could be something worth taking.

I flexed my hand, twisted my neck and let out a sigh then reached into the bodies. My skin crawled and my stomach flipped as I felt the dried cracking of bone and cloth. The bodies shifted, falling on top of one another as I pushed them aside. Puffs of rotten dust filled the air causing me to turn my gaze away. I swiped at where I thought the common loot was and pulled my hand back. Again, the corpses rolled over each other as if reaching for life away from this pit of despair.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

[Obtained: 1 - .38 Round, 1 Bandage, 1 Photo “Memento”]

[Codex Feature Unlocked: Collections]

[Collection Unlocked: Mementos (1/5)]

[New Memento Discovered: Jenson Family Photo]

[Experience Points Earned: 10]

I Unlocked my Collections feature. One of the many ways to earn experience in the Fallen States. My father used to say that the Trinity had a soft spot for the Older World. That it encouraged survivors to cherish it. Honor the past so that we can have a better future.

It was a beautiful sentiment but it did cause me to question my Trial. So far things have not gone as well as I hoped. No one ever really talked about what happened in their Trials, only things I could expect. Monsters, loot, and the Codex. However, whenever someone talked about the Collection it was something Unlocked after the Trials. After one had access to their Class Pathway. Why had I unlocked it so early? Was I simply lucky to have come across a Collection item this quickly or was there more to it?

I pulled up my Codex and sure enough there was a new section for Collections that I could shift my vision to. There were several long rows of blank spaces with question marks but as I scrolled through it I eventually found the section for Mementos. I had collected one of the total of five Mementos. There was no telling how long it would take to find the other four, and even those who worked hard on collecting Mementos back at the Colony, like Wilma Hendrix, had only managed to complete a dozen or so.

Wilma was one of the oddest people in the complex and the oldest member of the Outriders. She was ten years Lupin’s senior, but had the energy of a woman half her age. Her long silver hair and sharp jawline made her look like royalty in my eyes. But she acted nowhere near as well refined as a queen would. She was violent, rambunctious, swore like no one else, and the colony had to start hiding any alcohol that we came across because she tended to drink it all. Despite her rough nature she had a soft spot for the Older World. She would go on for hours about the sun setting over a field of dandelions and how the warm glow seemed to light their petals as flames. She shared stories of pumpkin patches in the fall and the smell of autumn age. The rinsing scent of fresh rain and the tender kiss of a snowflake. A poet with a pistol, she was.

Besides Wilma, not many other people talked about the Collections and the artifacts of the past. She had mentioned that finishing collections brought with it incredible rewards far beyond simply experience points. A fact the Midnight Ranger corroborated. However, it was a long and arduous task to finish even one Collection. So people tended to not seek collection items out and focused on the grind of experience or finding supplies to make sure our own history survived.

I pulled up the Memento item I had collected and watched as it materialized in my hand. It was a wallet sized photo smaller than the palm of my hand. There were three people standing by a lakeshore. A man and a woman with big smiles on their faces as their child, a boy most likely seven or eight, held up a fish. On the backside of the photo, written in thick marker, was a date, location and the family's name. June 14th 2006, Lake Lillian, Jenson.

I cold, metallic taste clawed its way up the back of my throat. I couldn’t tell if it was because of some unjustified jealousy of someone I never knew having something I’ve never had, or a sadness that something so pure and innocent no longer existed. I placed the photo back into my Collection and decided not to dwell on it. To me this family could never exist. They were legends of myths in my mind. Then again, it showed me a world that was better than this. One I hoped would come back. That I could bring back. A world of dreams and life worth living.

Looking down at the mass of bodies all crumpled together like firewood, made that vision almost impossible to imagine. Which of these unlucky fools was the man in the picture? Did he work in this office? Was his wife or child still alive? Did his life even matter?

That was a terrifying thought. In this ungodly world, did life even matter anymore? When the only thing keeping people going was trying not to die, then what’s the point in living? There are no more poets, writers, actors, dreamers and visionaries. No one left to create things worth experiencing. Nothing left worth experiencing. My heart tightened as my mind filled with depressing thoughts. Then something emerged in that dour, gray fog of my mind. The smile of my father. The stories he told. The joy that it brought to everyone who would listen. The Master of Harvests harvesting smiles. He never gave up on the dream. He never let the world beat him down. He trained me hard. Taught me well so that some day I could create a better world.

The desk lamp changed for me at that moment. I no longer thought of it as this disgusting yellow fiend bathing light on the dead. It became a symbol. A lone memory of a brighter world hidden away in a dark realm. It was weak, barely a wisp in the night, and yet it was still here. Still glowing after all this time. I walked up to the lamp, smiled, and turned it off. Little lamp rest. It was my time to carry the light forward.