I stood before my adversary, a gross, towering figure of rock, metal and moss. The creature's expression, a twisted mix of chrome and concrete that gleamed grotesquely, shifted intensively as it let out an abrasive roar.
Oh.
This certainly was unexpected.
With but a second's delay, it swung a metallic appendage down upon me with extraordinary speed. I rolled out of harm's way, my sheathe pressing painfully across my back as I did; the rocky sound of crunched bricks resonated from where the creature struck, where I was just moments before. I got to my feet, adjusted my hoodie and observed it through the slits in my mask. The creature had lodged itself pretty hard into the brick path and was now struggling to break free. I felt the sudden urge to put a palm to my face.
Hang on, I was wearing a mask. Nevermind.
With another almighty roar, the creature forced its metal arm out of the ground, sending bricks flying and dust spewing everywhere. I calmly dodged some stray rubble that came my way; perhaps it was time I brought down this guy.
"Let's make this simple, alright?"
I stretched my right hand behind my shoulder, grabbed my blade's handle and unsheathed it with a steady hand. In one swift motion, I swung my sword forward to face my opponent.
I raised my other hand to adjust my mask.
"You're strong, I know that much. Let's see whose steel cuts deeper, shall we?"
I took a stance and the earth shook as the golem roared once more.
- - - - - - - - - -
Darn. What a disappointment.
To say the least, the golem was nothing. Indeed, it was 'strong' but all it took was one hit to knock it off its feet and another clean blow to finish it. Not to mention there wasn't even anything worth salvaging; the golem had been made from steel, concrete, graphite and some kind of glass coating. But for now, nevermind the golem; I was here for more important reasons. I dusted myself, sheathed my sword onto my back and got up to continue on my way toward the Altar.
This place’s existence was a tightly kept secret, they said. Yeah right.
Frankly, that golem I just fought was quite the surprise. From where I was, sand spanned as far as the eye can see. It should have been near impossible for anyone to intercept me, given that this brick road and the Altar have been very well hidden within this desert. According to my comrades, anyway.
Speaking of whom, one of them was supposed to be waiting for me along the way. Where was this guy?
"Hey,” came from behind me, “Pick up the pace. Or are you waiting for my golem to get up again?"
Jeez, that really made me jump. How the heck did he get behind me so quietly? I could literally feel him breathing down my neck.
...Wait. That was his golem?
"Anthony, you can always tell me beforehand if you're going to set up your experiments in my way."
"Then what? It's not going to stop you from destroying them."
"So why do you set them up?"
"So you can destroy them."
"...Fair enough."
Unlike me, he didn't wear a mask. He donned black pants and a dark purple trench coat complete with a crimson undershirt. On his head was a top hat, under which his black hair stuck out from all sides. He wasn't carrying any weapons.
Throw on a set of fake teeth and he'd be ready for Halloween.
Perhaps he read my mind - always wondered if he'd mastered that - because he continued, monotonously, "And you're still wearing this dull jacket? It's probably grey from all the dust it's gathered on you. Do you even wash this?"
"Please leave my laundry out of this. What'd you make that golem out of? It was so weak it was hardly an obstacle."
"Steel. Concrete. Graphite, it acts as a lubricant for the limbs. Glass-"
"I was wondering about that. Glass on a golem? Like, really?"
"It acts as sacrificial armour. Apart from being hard, the shards should break outwards when shattered and injure the attacker."
"I dunno, the glass won't shatter outwards if it is struck from the outside, would it?" I said, scratching my head. "Besides, glass is much more useful as an offensive material."
"That one was a prototype, it was pretty experimental so I left it there to see how you'd handle it. Can't say I got much data though, considering it was destroyed before it could really do anything..." He briefly gave me an annoyed look. "You're right about the glass though, I should probably incorporate glass cannons or some other kind of projectile. It shouldn't be too hard to get more anyway." He gestured both ways; sand was on either side of the path.
"So, are we discussing construction materials for golems or getting to the Altar?"
"Oh, right."
We continued walking, Anthony lagging somewhat to my left. I side glanced at him.
Anthony was always a difficult person to read. It was never easy to understand what he was thinking, not that it helps that many aspects of him were usually unorthodox. His voice never seemed to go anything beyond empty, even during his overly logical jokes, and his face always looked like he hadn't slept in a day or two save for the lack of unkempt facial hair. His brown eyes always appeared to be a bit sunken, although that's probably just the shadow of his top hat against his face.
He, to me at least, always seemed to be tired.
Ironic, considering I was the one wearing a mask and he could still read me like an open book.
"So... why do we have to go to this Altar place? The Priestess wasn't very specific."
"If there's something you don't know, what makes you think I would?"
"You could have just said you didn't know..."
"Whatever. I say what I want, when I want. Look, there's the Altar." I looked farther up the path. About two or three hundred metres ahead, the road sloped upwards rather startlingly onto a sand dune (At least it seemed like a sand dune. How does one build a path on sand like that?). It had looked a lot flatter when I was about a kilometre or so back down the path.
On top of the dune at the very end of the path, barely visible on the horizon, was a structure silhouetted against the bright blue sky. It was probably safe to assume that that was the Altar.
"Why's the path curved like that? Wouldn't stairs be more practical?" I observed the curvature of the path. It looked like a 50 or 60 degree tangent from the ground at most, obviously too steep for anyone to walk on it normally.
Anthony, being the indifferent fellow he was, said, "I'm pretty sure this road is imbued with a gravity charm. Just keep walking and you should be fine."
"If you're wrong, I'll break you."
"If I'm wrong, gravity would break me first." At least he could still make jokes.
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We spent another minute or so to reach the base of the curved path. The dune was at least seven stories high, give or take a few yards; it looked a lot more intimidating up close. Anthony took the lead.
"Ok, I'll go first so you'll see what it's like. This is your first time, isn't it?"
"Pretty much."
"I see. Alright, so you just keep walking normally and don't panic. You'll be fine if you run or stop but don't do anything stupid like jumping off or whatever."
"Sounds simple enough."
"It is. Alright, here I go."
He put one foot on the curve and, without hesitation, continued his stride like there was nothing unusual. I kept watching him as he went along, eager as always. Eventually he was halfway up the dune, pointing a stark 45 degrees from normal. Then he stopped, took his time to turn (he had to tilt his head upwards to see me) and shouted, "You gonna take the initiative or do I have to do some literal hand-holding?"
"Can't we just jump up there? Surely our Aero boosters can handle this height." I had said that with a hint of uncertainty. The most I had ever ascended with these propulsion soles were four or five stories; I didn’t have time to test out the recent upgrades.
"Well, it's your pick. You may well want to quit dawdling down there, our light's going out."
"Light? What light?"
"Sunset." I hadn't noticed the sky going orange.
"Tch, sunset always lasts for a good two to three hours here. This isn't exactly Earth, y'know."
"Still, we need all the time we can use. Remember what the Priestess mentio-"
"Yes, yes, I know. She wants us to minimise our time spent here so the rebels and their reptilian friends don't sniff us out along with this place, I get it."
"Yeah, so hurry your ass up here because I'm definitely not going to wait." And with that, he turned back to the path and continued walking as if to show he really wasn't going to wait. He had a way with showing he was being frank sometimes.
I looked down at where the curve began, then up at Anthony, then back down again at my feet and gulped. Well, now I really wish I had tested these soles.
- - - - - - - - - -
As far as I was concerned with artificial forces, I wasn't quite sure I enjoyed that.
The moment I had stepped on the slope, it felt as if the very earth itself was holding me at an angle. It was a strange, suspended sensation, like you were underwater; you knew you weren't upright, you could see you weren't upright but you didn't feel you weren't upright. I expected my hoodie to follow the normal pull of gravity and fall off my head but it stayed on just fine. The journey didn't cause motion sickness or anything of the sort but I did feel a bit queasy. Maybe that was just altitude sickness from getting up here, or dehydration because I haven't drunk anything since getting on my way.
Actually, now that I thought about it, I could really use some water.
"Hey Anthony, gimme one of those spare bottles you got." He was standing not too far across from me. He took a moment, then materialised an empty plastic bottle and threw it to me.
"I meant a bottle of water, you dope!" I lobbed it at his face but he still managed to catch it smoothly with his right hand. It melted into thin air under his grip just as he materialised another bottle in his left, this one half filled.
"Wouldn't kill you you to be a bit more specific," he said, throwing it to me with a swift underhand.
"Wouldn't kill you to have some common sense," I said, catching it between my thumb and index finger. I uncapped it and took a swig while looking down at the base of the dune where we had started. Now that I was actually up here, it felt a lot higher than seven stories.
That reminds me. We should really get a move on.
"So, that's the Altar, right?"
"Most likely."
We both looked at the structure, the shadow of which we were sitting under. It was a white temple covered in moss and ferns, among other overgrowth. The walls were lined with broad, white pillars that stretched the height of the Altar, appearing to support the margin of roof under which they stood. At the front was a portico with a few steps before it, the roof held up by the same plain pillars. Some of the pillars had several small holes in them.
“Nothing unusual but what’s up with the plants? We’re out in the desert.”
“Don’t be fooled, they’re part of the Altar.”
“Ah right, that’s a thing.”
Nothing too extravagant, though the architecture would have looked a bit Greek if these pillars were at least carved. But what was this white material? It had looked like marble but now that I got a better look, it looked a lot more... fine. When I approached one of the pillars and placed my hand on it, it was dusty to the touch. Some of the powder got on my fingers.
"Hey, what's this white stuff?"
"Looks like a form of calcium carbonate, most likely marble."
"Yeah, well, it feels like chalk."
"What?"
I held up my hand to show him the dust.
"It's all fine and powdery."
"Wait, let me see that." He came over and touched the pillar, getting the same white stuff on his hand. He scrutinised the spot on the pillar where his hand had made contact.
"...This powder is neither from nor part of the pillar."
"Eh?"
"This pillar is made from marble, the whole structure should be. This powder - it's not chalk - came from an external source,” he said, tilting his head up to look at the plants across the top of the Altar. “See, the overgrowth is covered in it as well.”
I took another look at the foliage up top and with a bit of squinting, I made out what he meant. White specks rested on the leaves and moss, almost invisible at this distance.
"How'd you know it's not chalk?"
"I've spent enough time in the field to observe these kind of things."
Hey, don't get cocky.
"So what is it then?"
"It appears to be Leimatian gunpowder."
"Gunpowder-" I hastily wiped the stuff off onto my jacket.
Damn, now it's on my jacket.
"W-why's there gunpowder here?!"
"Relax, Leimatian gunpowder decays into a white powder after a week if not used, this stuff should be harmless. I'm assuming that somebody had tried to pile up gunpowder on the Altar here and set it off with gunfire."
"But someone had been here at the Altar? And what do you mean, gunfire?"
"Look." He was pointing to the next pillar there were some of those odd holes, of which up to this point I hadn't bothered to observe. Now that I actually looked at them, the implications were obvious.
They were bullet holes.
- - - - - - - - - -
We made for the door of the Altar; night would be upon us if we delayed any longer. Knowing what had gone down recently, we had all the more reason to hurry. Apart from the expired gunpowder and bullet holes, we found evidence of other attempts to destroy the Altar, all ending in apparent failure. Under the layer of powder, there were numerous but shallow blade marks all over the walls. We found several explosive fragments, broken caltrops and even segments of razor wire lying around in the sand.
Naturally, we held a certain sense of apprehension when we approached the door.
"Well, hopefully the interior isn't as crap."
"We won't know till we know," he said as he placed a hand on the damp doorknob.
But he didn't turn it. He just stood there with his hand on it, as if he was expecting me to do something.
"Hey, what's the hold up?"
It was unlike him to hesitate. He knew something I did not.
And so he said to me,
“Whatever you do, whatever happens from this point on... do not look back.”