My group silently stares at the skeleton. I drop to my knees, my heart pounding and the smell of stale air assaulting my nose. How am I supposed to feel? Sad, horrified, confused? I don't know. The memory burns in my head. The struggle to stand, using the core as a crutch. My brother leaned over him, trying to block my view. I ignored him, pushing him to the side. And there lay my father, his lower half crushed and his eyes dull. He was so proud of the core. A discovery that he said would change the world. Or at least this small cage he lived in. And it was the thing that killed him. Ironic really.

"I came here knowing he would still be down here. I was prepared." I grab a nearby purple core, rock still embedded in it, and jagged edges digging into my palm. I set it near his head and grabbed another. He deserves a proper burial, but I can't give it to him. This is the best I can do. I pile the rocks around him as Bell places one beside mine. I didn't even hear him coming. Silently, the people around me help build the grave for him.

He was the father I should have loved. He always smiled at me, never raising his voice, much like Silo. He always tried to teach me, believing I had as much potential as my brother. I never saw it, thinking that I would forever be Silo's shadow. Instead, I took advantage of his kindness and his love for family. Using it to lord over our maids and butlers, even using my father's reputation to berate those less fortunate than me. What a sack of shit I was.

I bow my head at his rock pile grave, "I'm sorry I never listened. Never tried." My voice comes out as a whisper. It has taken me five years to return, but I am a completely different person now—someone I like to think my father would be proud of or at least satisfied with. Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. Hearon. Time to go. With a deep breath, I stand, turning away from his remains. A weight lifts from my chest. I am not the coward I once was. It is time for me to move on. A tear drips down my cheek. I had forced myself to forget this place, to forget that day. But I can't run anymore. My past is finally catching up.

I lead my party through the rubble, only taking a few minutes to find the perfectly square hole in the wall. It is at least three feet tall and wide. I crouch down before it, the darkness whispering to me. "This is it. This tunnel leads to a corridor that will eventually end at the door to the library." Any emotion I had before is gone. Back to work.

"How long is it?" Bell questions, his gold and green eyes glowing in the yellow light.

I shrug, "I can't say. When I first went through it, I had to crawl with my brother. It felt like days, but It probably wasn't longer than a few hours." Bell motions to one of the scouts, who procures a small board with four wheels on it from a recently lowered cart. I watch in silence as they measure the wall, making adjustments to the small vehicle. They also add wheels to the sides so that they roll against the tunnel walls.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Bell taps it with his foot. It's only a few inches off the ground and about five feet long, with a small hammock-style center. "This is a cargo ANT. It is supposed to be used to haul small things like boxes or books, but it can hold your weight. Use this to get to the end of the tunnel. We will track it from here." I nod. Makes sense to have me go first. After all I have been here before.

I settle onto the small hammock, my feet dangling off the edge. The scout hands me a small controller with an analog stick. They slowly wheel me into the tunnel, the wheels on the side stabilizing me so the cargo ANT won't wobble around. Without another word, I push the analog stick forward, and the cart takes off. It's faster than I thought. At least thirty miles an hour.

I speed through the tunnel, cool air rushing past me. The tunnel is straight, with no cores to light my path. Instead, a small floodlight illuminates the darkness. The speed is exhilarating at first, but soon, my body goes numb. I remember the trek through here. Silo led from the front while I cried and whined from behind. By the time we emerged from this damn tunnel, my knees were rubbed raw, and my super soft hands were bleeding fiercely. Silo ripped part of his suit to act as a bandage for both my knees, arm, and cheek wound. I must have looked like a mummy.

Time goes by, and the occasional bump keeps me alert. Thirty-five minutes pass when I feel cooler air rush through my hair, sending goosebumps across my skin. I slow the ANT to a crawl as I exit the tunnel into a gray hallway. The walls are completely smooth, with only small fire torches lining each side of the wall, separated every ten feet or so. I detach the floodlight and press the small red button. It beeps twice and then goes silent. Now I wait.

I turn the light to my right. There's a cave-in, just like when I last came. To my left, the corridor extends into the dark and out of sight. I glance at the rose-shaped fire brazers. Last time they lit up as soon as Silo exited the tunnel. Now, they remain dark, not even a spark to be seen. The dark continues to whisper. I know there is no one here, but the whispers are there. It's not coherent in any way, but loud enough for me to know it is not a trick. A shiver runs down my spine. Creepy.

*******************

Forty minutes later, five more ANTS emerge from the tunnel. Bell, Azu, and Will are the first three out, with two scouts behind them. Bell dusts himself off as he looks around. "So this is it?" He looks over at the cave-in and motions to the two scouts. They wordlessly start moving rock. Good luck.

Azu inspects one of the tiny brazers, "These are old. I can not tell you an exact date, but I am willing to bet a few thousand at least."

Bell nods, rubbing his chin, "Let us move. The others will follow shortly."

I take the lead as we walk down the hallway. None of the brazers light, and we can only use our floodlights. Thirty minutes pass. An hour. Two hours later, we arrive at the entrance to the library.

Two white marble doors are wide open, the front hidden behind the walls. We step inside. Above us, intricately made chandeliers dangle from a ceiling we cannot see, held up by chains. The chandeliers are dark. The floor is made of black marble and gold diamonds. Hundreds of black bookcases, twenty to thirty feet tall, stretch out in front of us on either side of the main walkway. Every few feet, a table rests, made of white marble.

I swing my light around, peering at the bookscases. They're empty. This can't be right. My two companions split, looking through the barren library. Not a single book, scroll, or scrap of paper. Nothing.