The bomb locks onto its target, a gravimetric signature detected from almost two miles of distance. A tinge of reality barely reaching through the mass of water, a distance decimating a processed order but enough to receive a confirmation of hostile intent.

Gravimetric bulbs surge across its surface, the thing screaming through the medium in a movement to rival a bullet.

A constant, suffered existence for almost two thousand years; a slaved mechanism forced to hold back a torrent of liquids in a seemingly unceasing duty. Amongst the ruins of cracked pipes, rusted gears, and smashed control panels the generator finds its life. Already beginning to fail, the small droplets of water seeping through the gravimetric barrier indicative of a collapse to come. Dereliction of duty from mechanical failure, interrupted by the salvation of death.

The explosive charge breaks through the projected wall as its propelled casing of gravitons tears through distorted reality, the final charge aimed right at the source of the projection.

It finally fails, the explosion from a dying power source muffled against the oncoming wave.

Two billion tons of water falls a mere ten feet towards a newly formed solid ground; a hydraulic hammer coming to fruition as incompressible matter surges towards any source of release.

Ancient, corroded blast doors provide it.

A tonnage tossed aside by raw physical energy, massive sheets of arcane alloy sent tumbling into the abyss of the structure alongside an unstoppable torrent.

It isn’t enough, the water hammer sent back up towards the source of annihilation.

Samuel’s augments hear it before it arrives, a rumbling and roaring shockwave approaching them from below. Cold words spoken in warning, against incoming fire. “Remain in your positions.”

Hands open as danar augmentation projects forth the protective shield of reality destroying gravitons, a preemptive measure as it arrives.

Ear shattering, all consuming destruction to arrive in milliseconds; the mage placing a mathematically perfected wave deflecting wedge of pure gravitons in front of the six souls.

It keeps them standing

The explosive shock hits with physical force like a bomb at point blank range, hands covering ears barely sparing eardrums from rupture. An impact reverberating through bodies of flesh and steel, the inhuman power slamming into chests and knocking the breath out of lungs.

Even a mile above them on the surface, they feel it.

Every single soul in March stumbles as the entire mountain beneath their feet shifts upward by two inches, immediately thrown back down in an earthquake of apocalyptic proportions. A destruction only adding fire to the riotous movement of humankind, their very foundation of granite crumbling into dust.

“Is everyone alright?!!!” Alto yells in the aftermath, deafened ears slowly regaining sound.

Madeline’s answer doesn’t give a status update, a science questioned towards any knowledgeable minds. “Gods above what was that?!”

Samuel lets the projection falter, glowing eyes fading as he resets his internal system. “A water hammer; the pressure differential within the system was immense enough to cause an effect similar to an explosion.”

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The cistern drains.

Water pours out of hallways turned pipes, cascading down into impossibly deep reservoirs below. An abyss of dark and murky liquid sloshing in chaos like a living membrane in the throes of death, the a faint smell of sulfur and rust palpitating across air as water seeks out every nook and cranny of the underground chamber.

The sound reverberates across the entire structure, filling the air with a deafening roar. The Five simply watch the spectacle before them, unable to tear eyes away from the sight.

As if possessing a life force all its own, the force of water shoves aside the entire world; a demonic presence seemingly connected to some ancient and powerful soul deep within the dungeons below.

It fades eventually.

The hissing and gurgling slowly replacing the otherworldly roar, an eerie silence that hangs heavy in the humid air. An ancient unit of precious liquid lost forever, now lying dead at the base of the long abandoned facility.

Madeline asks the question, watching as Alto Carrin gives a silent prayer. “So uh… how do we get down now?”

Samantha is the first to risk a look, leaning over the abyss.

There is nothing except empty space, a foreboding darkness within the gaping maw of the facility staring right back. A towering, cylindrical structure that seemed to reach down into the true surface of the world, a massive diameter and depth almost incomprehensible to human minds.

One path down, a mountainous trail created by intact arcane alloy structure spiraling across the interior surface.

Slippery pipes and corroded maintenance walkways, one single misstep finding an end into the inky black below.

“There is a path.” Samantha informs as vision tries to cut through the darkness.

The sibling arrives, a gut immediately turning at the distance. Augmentation captures the scale of it all; the almost seven kilometer long drop dating to an age more ancient than perhaps the collective itself.

A fall not lethal, but still utterly terrifying to the young soul.

Judge Murphy cracks the light stick, chemical interactions producing a thin blue light from within the plastic case. An object subsequently thrown into the abyss, the Five watching as the source slowly decays into nothingness.

“We’re gonna have to go down, aren’t we?” Madeline gulps.

The Being stares at nothing, the form observing the state of the structure’s integrity. “There is a maintenance platform three point seven eight feet below this current position.”

A silence with the confirmation of a task ahead, the only sound provided by the croaking and groaning of primeval industrial architecture and distant rumble of still active waterfalls.

“Gods protect us…” Alto begins to beg.

“I am not in agreement with this current course of descent.” Samuel informs coldly. “Are there alternative paths?”

The Being doesn’t even turn to him. “No.”

The instinctive fear of heights claws at the mind, here at the very edge of the precipice.

A narrow, jutting outcropping of a slippery walkway, barely wide enough to stand on, seemingly floating above nothingness.

“Tie this to your belts.” Judge Murphy orders as he removes the strand of synthetic rope from within his chest carrier. “If one of us falls we may be able to catch each other.”

“Samuel is a mage.” Alto informs, taking one of the strands. “He weighs a lot more than the rest of us.”

“Then he should be careful.” The old man turns to the subjected individual. “Understood son?”

The link of cold logic connects the two, the boy nodding. “Yes sir.”

They all strap themselves in with the guidance of Judge Murphy, a finale placed to the Being who just stares at the Five. “I do not require a safety measure. The fall isn’t lethal to me.”

A string of protection acting as the first and last line of defense, both in preventing a slipped mistake as well as in the social warfare of guarantees and trust.

“Put it on.” Judge Murphy orders, a knotted bit of rope already prepared for the individual within his hands.

A separation of almost four feet for each, just enough space for maneuvering the climb.

“Let’s do this.”