The crates were filled with ingots of the same strange metal that made up Chloe’s new coat of armor, and the barrels were filled with a type of dried berry. Rosaendra put one of the berries in her mouth; it was sweet and tart, and when she swallowed it she felt as if she had a full meal.

“These could be useful.” She said, holding one of the red berries in her hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, when was the last time you ate?”

“It’s been a while.”

Rosaendra tossed one of the berries toward Chloe. She caught it and examined it for a moment before putting it in her mouth. She chewed it up a bit and swallowed it. The dull ache that she had been ignoring faded as well.

“Should we keep them?” Rosaendra asked, “Could cut back on time in between Doors.”

“Yeah, and I want to study them too. Take them to a lab.”

“...all of them, though?” There were about a dozen and a half barrels altogether.

“...no no. Let’s just take a single barrel.”

“How about the crates?” Rosaendra kicked the wooden box in the middle of the room. The metal inside rattled at the motion.

“Let’s take that as well, I suppose. It could be useful.”

“How?”

“Create more armor? And aren’t you curious about its makeup?”

“A little, I suppose. Do you know how to make armor?”

“No...but, what if we find someone who can? Hey, this is a war, right?”

“Right.”

“And do all wars only have fighters and the like?”

“No? There’s stuff like strategy and logistics.”

“Exactly. Remember that forum idea I was talking about? What if it’s the logistics branch of the war?”

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They talk at length about a variety of ideas that popped into Chloe’s head; but it was all shut down when Rosaendra asked the simple question: how would they transport arms without raising the ire of the ATF. For now, they took a single crate of each. If they could find a patron of one of the crafting gods, it could come in handy. They walked one of the unopened barrels over to the door that would lead to Earth and carried one of the unopened crates to rest beside it.

“Now,” Rosaendra sighed, “Just to...search for the talisman.”

“...do you have like a divination spell? You know, like dousing?”

“I should get one, but no. I do not.”

Chloe groaned and traipsed down the hall. The first room they searched was the room where the two fishmen had come out, or so they assumed because the door swung wide open. Inside was a variety of overturned cots, and hammock halves hanging on the wall. Shattered trunks spilled their contents over the floor; old clothes In the middle of the room were two cots pushed together. A thought crossed Chloe’s mind that turned her face green.

“What’s wrong?” Rosaendra asked.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

Chloe held her mouth shut, as the two of them dug through the scraps of cloth, and loose rigmarole, but found nothing of interest; save for what looked like an early photograph stuck to the bottom of an upturned trunk.

“...is that a bird?” Chloe asked as she looked over Rosaendra’s shoulder.

“Looks like a sparrow.”

“It does. Think it’s a pet or something?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” Rosaendra slid the thing into her pocket.

“You’re keeping it, why?”

“It’s interesting.” She answered.

“Interesting? Really?”

“Yeah, weren’t you the one talking about wanting to know more about this world.”

“Yeah, but like, it’s physical processes. What elements it has, and what properties can we derive from them.”

“You’re not interested in their culture or anything?”

“No, why would I be? They’re our enemy.”

“But it’s like we’re the first ones inside of the pyramids, no?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re discovering a lost culture. Isn’t that exciting?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Well, I find it interesting.”

“Okay. Whatever. Let’s just keep looking.”

And looking is what the two of them did. For hours. They went from room to room, down every floor, and tore apart everything they could to try to find the talisman. Every floor had a similar setup; two living spaces on either side of a supply closet, filled with similar things; the strange berries, and the crates of strange metal. Whenever they found something with writing on it, Rosaendra insisted on sliding it into her backpack.

On the fourth floor down from where they started, however, there was a change. The whole floor opened up into a kind of meeting/gathering room. Shattered chairs and tables, mixed in A dank stench like rotting meat wafted up to greet them from the floor beneath them. It was so powerful that it stung their eyes. Chloe wretched loudly, and the sound seems to draw attention from something in the room below. It groaned and began to stomp loudly up the stairs.

Rosaendra grabbed hold of Chloe’s arm, and dragged her back up the stairs; there was no way they could fight in that noxious room. They climbed up to the third floor. The stink of death followed after them.