The air grew noticeably colder as he descended, and a faint musty smell wafted up from the depths below. Each step was careful and deliberate, the narrow staircase forcing him to move slowly and cautiously.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, it revealed a dimly lit corridor stretching out before him. The walls and floor were made out of metal in perfect condition except for the mold that sticking on some part of the walls, it felt like he entered some kind of new dimensions the moment he stepped into the secret 'basement,' the difference here and above was like night and day.

The recessed lights embedded in the ceiling flickered sporadically, casting an eerie, intermittent glow.

Sam's footsteps echoed loudly in the confined space. Pipes and conduits ran along the walls and ceiling, some hissing softly with escaping steam, others dripping with condensation.

"What the hell is this place..?" Sam muttered in bewilderment.

As he walked, he noticed the occasional metal door set into the walls, some slightly ajar, revealing glimpses of rooms filled with old machinery and control panels.

The entire environment seemed like a relic from another era, a secret facility hidden beneath the old house, untouched for years. He knew he was on the verge of uncovering something extraordinary, and the thought of what lay ahead filled him with both excitement and trepidation.

He continued walking down the dimly lit, metallic corridor, the intermittent flicker of the recessed lights cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls. For an unknown reason, the air began to grew colder and carried a sterile, almost clinical smell mixed with the faint scent of rust.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, Sam reached a junction where the corridor split into three distinct paths.

To the left, the corridor seemed to descend slightly, its end obscured by shadows.

To the right, the corridor curved, disappearing around a bend.

The middle corridor stretched straight ahead, its length illuminated by more flickering lights.

He paused, considering his options. "Which way should I go?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper in the deafening silence.

Suddenly, a sound from the left corridor shattered the stillness. It was a low, guttural growl, and it immediately sent a chill down Sam's spine. He tried to squinting his eyes to see what the fuck was causing that sound, as he's focusing his eyes on the left corridor, an equally unsettling noise echoed from the right corridor, a series of quick skittering footsteps, as if something was rapidly moving in the darkness.

'Oh hell no! What the fuck is this situation?! Did the genre change all of a sudden!?' He yelled in his mind as his danger sense spiking uncontrollably.

Sam's heart raced, and his gut feeling screamed at him danger is coming. Without wasting another moment, he turned and leap forward like an arrow through the air toward the middle corridor.

*Woosh!*

The sound of Sam leaping forward filled the air. Eventually when he's about 18 meters inside the middle corridor, The unsettling sounds from before had suddenly just faded as if it's never happened in the first place. Instead, now it got replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to press in from all sides.

"What the fuck was that? In my entire life i never felt my gut feeling screamed at me like that!" Sam said, his voice trembling slightly.

"Damn, I might be coming here severely unprepared huh..." He paused, leaning against the cold, metal wall to gather his thoughts.

He glanced back the way he had come, the corridor now a long, shadowy tunnel behind him. The sounds were gone, but the sense of dread lingered. He controled his breathing, trying to calm himself.

Even though he might die here by some unknown creature due to his unpreparedness, he knew he couldn't just walk away. He had come this far, driven by curiosity and a thirst for discovery.

"Oh well fuck it, we ball. If I die, I die," he whispered to himself, the words both a resignation and a steeling of his resolve.

Shaking his head, with a new firm resolve Sam continued to wander deeper into the facility or whatever he's in right now.

His footsteps echoed, creating a lonely, rhythmic sound that punctuated the silence. After a few minutes of searching, he found himself in a wider section of the corridor. To his right, a door marked with the word "Archives" caught his attention. He felt a surge of hope—perhaps the answers he sought were just beyond that door. But beside it, another door drew his gaze. This one was closed and had a nameplate that read "Dr. Rahman."

Deciding to check the archives first, Sam approached the door and tried the handle. It was locked. Frustration welled up inside him, and for a moment, he considered kicking the door down. However, the thought of the noise it would make, potentially attracting unwanted attention, made him scrap the idea immediately.

Turning his attention to Dr. Rahman's door, he tried the handle with a mix of caution and hope. To his surprise, it turned easily, and the door creaked open. The air inside was stale, filled with the scent of decay and dust. He stepped inside, revealing a small cluttered office.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The first thing that caught his eye was the skeleton seated in a chair behind an old, metal desk. The skeleton was slumped forward, a rusted handgun resting in its bony hand, the grim evidence of a final, desperate act. Sam swallowed hard, a mix of pity and unease washing over him.

"Dr. Rahman," Sam muttered, reading the nameplate on the desk. Papers and documents were scattered across the surface, yellowed with age and covered in dust. He approached the desk cautiously, trying not to disturb the remains. His eyes scanned the scattered documents, hoping to find something that could help him unlock the archives door. Among the papers, he found a set of keys. His heart leapt as he picked them up, his fingers brushing against the cold metal.

"Maybe one of these will work," he thought, turning back toward the door. He cast a final glance at the skeleton of Dr. Rahman, a silent promise to uncover the truth of what the hell had happened here.

With the keys in hand, Sam stepped out of the office and returned to the archives door. He tried each key in the lock, and on the third attempt, he heard a satisfying click. The door creaked open, revealing rows upon rows of filing cabinets and shelves filled with documents.

As Sam stepped into the archives, the musty smell of old paper and dust filled his nostrils. The room was dimly lit by a few overhead lights that flickered intermittently, casting an eerie glow over the rows of filing cabinets and shelves crammed with documents and boxes.

The walls of the archive room were covered in various posters and pictures, most of which seemed to be instructional or informational. One particular set of pictures caught his eye, prominently displayed on the wall. He approached them, curiosity piqued by their unusual nature.

The first picture depicted an eye, but it was crossed out with a bold red X. The image was simple yet striking, the crossed-out eye conveying a clear message of something being wrong or not permitted?

The second picture showed a hand holding what appeared to be a contact lens. The lens was large and had a strange, intricate pattern on it, unlike any contact lenses Sam had ever seen. The hand was in the process of placing the lens onto an eye. The instructions were depicted in a series of steps, emphasizing the importance of correctly inserting the lens.

The third picture showed an eye again, but this time it was not crossed out. Instead, the eye was clear and bright, with the contact lens seemingly in place. The difference was stark, and the message was clear: the crossed-out eye without the lens was wrong, while the eye with the lens was correct.

Sam studied the pictures, trying to make sense of them.

"So.. basically, this instruction is about putting contact lenses? But what for?" he wondered aloud.

Below the three instruction pictures on the wall, there was a small, nondescript box. It was positioned directly under the images, almost as if it had been placed there deliberately. Sam approached the box with a mix of curiosity and caution.

Gently, he lifted the lid of the box. Inside, nestled in a bed of soft material, was a pair of clear contact lenses. They looked ordinary at first glance, but as Sam brought them closer to his eyes, he noticed something unusual. Intricate designs were etched into the lenses, almost too small to see with the naked eye. The patterns were delicate and complex, resembling tiny, interwoven symbols or runes.

He held one of the lenses up to the light, turning it slowly. The designs caught the light in a strange way, shimmering faintly with an almost ethereal glow.

"I know sometimes I might be dumb, but these don't look like any contact lenses I've ever seen," Sam murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.

Sam placed the lenses back in the box and took a moment to steady his thoughts. He knew he had to figure out their purpose, but the uncertainty of what they might do weighed heavily on his mind.

"Wait a minute, why the hell I didn't use my identify skill??" Sam muttered, facepalming.

'Identify'

[Eyes Of The Observer (Unique)]

-The Eyes of the Observer are a pair of exquisite contact lenses, crafted from the unknown technology of forgotten world in [Redacted] Universe. Upon wearing these lenses, the user is immediately endowed with the ability to understand and translate any written language they sees. The Eyes of the Observer also subtly enhance the wearer’s perception. Colors appear more vibrant, movements more noticeable, and details more pronounced. This heightened awareness, though minor, can be the difference between spotting a hidden trap or seeing through an illusion. Enchantments: +30 Wisdom, +30 Intelligence.

•Requirements: Soulbound.

"Holy shit.." Sam exclaimed unintentionally.

Well, how can he not surprised? For something as simple as a contact lenses, the boost it gave is crazy!

Aside the translation ability, it also gave a minor increase to perception which is really insane, and the +30 stats increase to both Wisdom and Intelligence was also a huge gain. If Sam can describe the right word for this item, he would definitely say that it's absolutely nutty.

Without further ado, Sam decided to follow the instructions depicted in the pictures on the wall. He picked up the box containing the contact lenses and studied the second picture closely, noting the careful steps for inserting the lenses.

"Oh well, what's the worst that could happen?" he muttered happily to himself.

He took a deep breath, steadied his hands, and lifted one of the lenses from the box. The intricate designs glimmered faintly under the dim light, adding to the sense of mystery surrounding them. Sam tilted his head back slightly and, using his other hand, gently pulled down his lower eyelid. Following the instructions, he placed the lens on his eye and blinked a few times to adjust it.

As he inserted the second lens, he marveled at how normal they felt at first, despite their unusual appearance. But then, without warning, a searing pain exploded in his eyes.

It felt as if someone had dipped his eyes into molten lava. The burning sensation was intense, radiating from the surface of his eyes and spreading through his entire head. Sam's vision blurred, and he dropped to his knees, clutching his face in agony. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the pain was overwhelming, forcing them shut as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" he cried out, his voice echoing through the silent archives. His breathing coming in ragged gasps as he fought to endure the excruciating pain. It felt like an eternity, each second stretching on as the burning sensation consumed him.

Gritting his teeth, Sam tried to endure the excruciating pain as much as he could, the pain was relentless, as if the lenses were fusing with his very being.

After what felt like an endless torment, the intensity of the pain began to subside, leaving a lingering ache behind. Sam's breath slowly steadied, and he dared to open his eyes. His vision was still blurry, but as it began to clear, he noticed something strange. The dimly lit archive room seemed to shimmer and shift, the details of the metal walls and shelves becoming more vivid and intricate.

He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The lenses, with their mysterious designs, had transformed his perception, revealing hidden details that were invisible to the naked eye. The pain had been unbearable, but it seemed the lenses had unlocked a new way of seeing the world around him.

Sam struggled to his feet, still reeling from the experience. His eyes still burned slightly, but the sensation was manageable.

"I'm... never doing that shit ever again." Sam said. He glanced back at the box that had held the contact lenses. The memory of the excruciating pain was still fresh, and the thought of going through anything similar in the future made him shudder.