Alex sat comfortably in the grass, playing with his new toy. After thoroughly checking out the hidden area, he had concluded that the box and the strange, inscribed ceiling were the only features of note up there. He’d decided that the combined factors of the ceiling’s extreme height and hypnotising properties made it a dead end for the immediate future.
He’d spent some time looking over the box, but was yet to find an opening or clasp. It wasn’t particularly heavy, suggesting that it was hollow, and there was a slight rattle when he shook it. After shifting it around a bit, Alex got the distinct impression that there was a second, slightly smaller box inside. If this were a wrapped Christmas gift, I’d guess… kitchen appliance, I think.
After ascertaining that much, Alex had felt comfortable dropping the box off the ledge of the hidden area, through the illusory dome and onto his dirt pile where it could land with a gentle thud. He’d followed it down shortly after, minorly spraining his ankle – which he immediately healed up in the golden pool. I love this pool.
He was currently sitting and trying to figure out whether the patterned carvings on the box held any meaning. They didn't appear to match the patterns engraved in gold on the atrium walls, although both followed cubic, almost fractal designs. There were no keyholes or hidden buttons, and he'd traced his fingers along every ridge of the box to confirm that. It was just a sealed, metal box with patterns on it. Resorting to more destructive methods, he'd tried grinding it against the marble floor. However, neither the box nor the floor showed any damage for his attempts. Turning in his seated position, he tried smacking it at an angle onto the marble ring lining the pool. Nope, nothing. But looking at the pool, a thought struck him.
What if the pool reacts with the box the same way it did with dirt? A familiar, mischievous grin reappeared as he stood up and walked over. Only one way to find out.
He paused. If the pool did destroy parts of the box, he didn’t want to lose any of the carvings on the surface, or worse, have the contents slip through the opening and also get destroyed. While Alex was almost bouncing with anticipation, it wouldn’t do to let his excitement get the better of him. So, as he approached the pool, he angled the box such that the very corner was pointed at the shimmering golden surface. Then, with a somewhat hesitant excitement, he lowered just the tip of that corner into the pool.
He almost laughed out loud with delight when the golden liquid vaporised the metal instantly, before quickly pulling the box back and inspecting the hole he’d made. He caught a glimpse of something golden inside.
Nice, now how should I safely remove the contents? He didn’t want anything destructible contacting the pool that didn’t need to. The solution came to him pretty quickly, and he tilted the box so that one of the edges adjacent to the missing corner was over the surface. Then, he lowered only that very edge of the box into the surface of the pool, turning it into a narrow, open slit in the grey metal. He was careful not to damage the inscription on the surface of either adjacent face. Who knows, maybe they're another clue after all. I can't afford to destroy information here.
Knowing he had limited resources, Alex wasn’t going to waste anything. He rotated the box twice more, vaporising edges. On the fourth and final edge, he held the box at an odd angle, with a few fingers resting on the face which he was working on disconnecting. As soon as he severed the final edge and the face snapped off the box, his fingers ensured it was pushed back and down into the open cavity rather than falling into the pool.
It was time to inspect his loot. Sitting down again and lifting the severed top-plate from inside the box like a lid, Alex was underwhelmed, but also unsurprised, when he saw that the first box had contained a second, smaller, golden box. A trip to the pool confirmed a suspicion given to him by the second box's colour – this box, like his robe and body, was 'waterproof'. He even tried submerging it entirely, all to no avail.
What was more interesting was that each face of the golden box glowed with a glyph matching each of those above the trial doors, minus luck. Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Endurance, Intelligence, Wisdom. A small keyhole sat in the centre of each face; the meaning implicit – each trial contained a key.
Haha, fuck that though. What else could I try?
After a quick shake of the golden box revealed no clues, Alex lobbed it into the air and let it smash into the excavated marble floor around him with considerable force. Between his last attempt at the pool and the mysterious ‘quest’ the voice had mentioned, he suspected that whatever magic governed this place would not allow the contents of the box, whatever they were, to be smashed before their time.
As with the iron box, both the golden box and the white stone floor remained unmarked. Alex spent some time scratching at the strange marble around him after that observation, both with the golden box and the remains of the grey one. Neither could so much as scratch it, and the same applied to the golden decorative carvings on the walls.
I suppose that means I was right about the roof. Untouchable. Although I wish I could remember those glyphs. He’d had no issue remembering the seven attribute glyphs, and he was fairly sure the ‘Linosa Town’ in his status view had its own glyph too. He did a quick mental skim to see if he knew any others… and he did. When did that happen? He focused on the new glyph, trying to discern its meaning. Quests?
Information flashed into his mind as if in direct response.
Quests
Thinking Outside the Box: Discover the secret of the Zeroth Floor Atrium.
> Hidden: Pierce the illusory dome.
> Open the iron puzzle box.
> Gather the six trial keys to open the golden puzzle box (0/6).
Reward: ???
Well, he supposed that settled what his next steps should be. It also seemed as if his mind was firmly intent on interpreting this cosmic information as if he were in some sort of RPG. Oh well, it’s as good as anything. It could certainly be worse.
There was only one more thing to do before he embarked on his first trial.
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Four hours later, the floor of the atrium had been near entirely de-turfed. Using the empty iron box as a makeshift scooper had greatly accelerated Alex's progress, and his dirt pile, still by the pillar, was quite formidable now. Alex wiped sweat off his brow as he bent to shovel the last few remaining clumps of dirt into his scoop. Which was when he found the ring.
He didn’t even bother walking the last load of dirt over to his pile. Instead, he dropped the box of dirt with a thump, bent to pick up the small, golden ring, and then straightened and shouted at the sky.
“Are you fucking kidding me!”
The ring had appeared right under his last scoop of dirt. This was absolutely intentional. And to think he'd been about to give up and not bother with it.
“I spent 12 shitting hours digging, you asshole!” It was important to vary one’s swearing occasionally.
For the second time that day, he could have sworn he felt amusement from above. Alex could only sigh dejectedly and examine the ring.
It was made of the same gold as his mystery box, and he suspected that it would also be immune to the destructive side of the healing pool. It seemed to be composed of thousands of hair-thin strands of the gold, layered in complex loops and glyphs with a minute level of detail. The glyphs glowed in his mind, but were similar in strength to those on the doors and the box, not mesmerising like those embedded in the roof of the hidden loft. Nonetheless, he found himself unable to commit these ones to memory either. Was it because he didn’t understand them?
Still waiting for a response from the mysterious voice, he sighed and slipped the ring on. Sure, it might be cursed or something, and he should probably check, but at this point Alex was all out of hoots to give.
Seeker's Ring
0th, rare
A strange golden ring found under the floor of the Zeroth Floor Atrium. Gives clues and points towards secrets, awarded to the curious and the patient. 1-hour recharge, 3.62-metre radius.
A rudimentary knowledge of the ring popped into his mind as he equipped it, and he sensed the item in his mind somehow. Weirdly, the arbitrary range of the item's power had been translated into metres. I suppose if you're American, it would use feet instead. Wouldn't that be antiquated. Weird that hours remain the same, though. He wouldn't give that too much more thought – he had enough on his plate already. Since the ring matched the golden box, he walked over to try and activate it within range. He also checked his quest interface as he went, noting a slight change.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Quests
Thinking Outside the Box: Discover the secret of the Zeroth Floor Atrium.
> Hidden: Pierce the illusory dome.
> Open the iron puzzle box.
> Hidden: Locate the Seeker's Ring to assist in your search.
> Gather the six trial keys and open the golden puzzle box (0/6).
Reward: ???
It took Alex a matter of minutes to work out how to activate the ring. It turned out that a focused mental command was sufficient, and he twitched back in alarm as it activated for the first time. Six thin, ethereal, golden threads extended from the six faces of the golden box… each pointing to the trial door with its matching glyph. Gives clues, huh. Pretty sure I’d already worked that one out though, chief. A final, greyed-out thread pointed from the ring itself towards the ceiling. Yeah, already found that one too.
After another few hours of screwing around (during which time he realised he could use the ring recharge period as a makeshift clock), Alex was getting pretty sick of this atrium. The ring especially had made him 90% sure he’d run out of things to discover – the box carvings didn’t match the wall carvings in any way he could make heads or tails of, and he’d examined every inch of the wall and columns for buttons or levers in spite of himself. He’d even briefly revisited the hidden loft for a bit and risked another quick glance at the ceiling after triggering his ring's power. The hypnotic effect had cost him even more time, and he was beginning to get worried about the time limit on the pool. He still had no clue how long each trial took, and by his own estimation he’d been here longer than half a day.
Not long after, he found himself looking down at the pattern sketched out of dirt on the marble floor, his latest project. It was a replica of the pattern on the separated face of the grey iron box, which he now carried over to the pool. He'd dusted the surface of the plate with dirt such that it sat in all its grooves, then quickly flipped in onto the floor. While it'd taken a few tries, he'd effectively copied over the pattern on the plate. Why was he doing this? Well, he'd had some bright ideas as he was looking around earlier.
With the pattern preserved just in case, it’s time to do some sculpting.
He lowered the edge of the metal plate into the golden pool and watched closely as the contacting surface vaporised.
Ten minutes later, he lifted a sharpened metal spike. Weapon acquired. Then, he disrobed (feeling a little awkward), laid his garment out, and engaged in some ‘alterations work’. He’d been unable to tear the robe with his own strength, but his new spike (the pool hadn’t been much good for forming any type of handle or true blade, so he was hesitant to call it a dagger) was up to the task. Starting at the hem, Alex began to slice a thin strip out of the garment, slowly working his way up the material in a tight, looping spiral.
Once he was satisfied with the length of the impromptu cord he'd cut, he stopped. Pragmatic as he might be, he decided to keep fabric of the robe intact from around where his thighs would be. If I go up thirty more centimetres, my balls will end up hanging out. His cuts were scratchy and imprecise, and he imagined his long sleeves probably looked ridiculous now. He chuckled to himself at the mental image, then put on the remains of the robe and wrapped his five metres of freshly cut cord around his waist, securing his spike-dagger with a knot in the folds.
He finished stamping the other iron box faces out with dirt on the floor, then loaded the remaining part of the box with more dirt. Dirt was a close to his number one asset in this room. Yeahhhhh baby, I am the dirt king. He decided to leave the golden box in the atrium – he couldn’t risk losing it in a trial, and while he wasn't sure what each one entailed it did seem clear that he'd be returned to the atrium between them.
Equipped with a ragged, ridiculous-looking robe, five metres of cord made from what he suspected was slightly-magical cloth, a grey metal spike, and his mysterious golden ring, Alex was finally ready for his first trial. And having had many hours to think, he knew exactly which one he would take first.
This is so dumb. I'm not even good at it. He was still heavily considering taking intelligence, because at least he knew he was a bright guy. But for the final time, he discarded the thought. I don't want to screw up my most favourable trial because of inexperience.
"Wish me luck!" he shouted at the sky.
Then he walked up to the portal he'd chosen, took a deep breath, and pushed through into an inky blackness.
----------------------------------------
Alex's vision flashed white, and he barely had time to look around the small, empty, square room with a strangely low roof before the familiar voice spoke in his head, somewhat robotically.
> Welcome to the Trial of Strength. Avoid being crushed. Commencing Stage One.
And then the ceiling fell on him.
Thankfully, it was a pretty light ceiling, almost styrofoam-density. It bonked Alex lightly on the head, even bouncing slightly, but he still dropped his iron box in shock, spilling precious dirt all over the floor. My dirt! Oh well, there was plenty more dirt back in the atrium.
He glanced back as if to check, but there was no sign of the portal he’d come through. Frowning, he reached up with his arm to brace the strangely light roof, lifting it a little so it no longer balanced on his head. He released his grip a few seconds later, when the ceiling seemed to freeze back in place.
> Stage One Complete. Do you wish to leave the Trial?
What? That had been easy.
“Uhhhhh… no?” Seemed like this thing had stages. Neat. He would keep going.
> Commencing Stage Two.
This time, Alex managed to get his hands over his head before the roof dropped, a bit heavier this time... probably around ten kilograms? He was no expert at estimating weight, but he felt like this was enough to leave a bump if he’d caught it using his head again. He braced and waited for the message, which came about five seconds later.
> Stage Two Complete. Do you wish to leave the Trial?
Nope. That was still pretty easy.
> Commencing Stage Three.
The stage three ceiling weighed a bit over twenty kilograms by Alex’s estimation – unpleasant, but hardly a challenge. At least the duration of each stage seemed to be constant. He was a bit relieved, to be honest. This was kinda fun.
> Stage Three Complete. Do you wish to leave the Trial?
Alex wondered how much the weight increased with every stage. Before he could try and work out any sort of formula, the ceiling dropped on him again.
The next few stages went by quickly, and it was less than a minute before Alex stopped enjoying himself.
----------------------------------------
> Commencing Stage Six.
Alex quickly learned that not responding to the question of whether he wanted to leave would cause the ceiling to drop anyway. He had only seconds to rest between each stage, and by now he was starting to hurt. By his own estimation, the stage six weight was well over fifty kilograms. Alex wiped sweat from his eyes on his right forearm, the action finally reminding him of his ring. He’d been so surprised at the start that he’d forgotten to check the room for clues! Worse, the constant exertion had kept him distracted. He sent a mental probe to the ring immediately, then glanced up at it, pressed on his hand against the stone. No golden threads. Damn.
----------------------------------------
> Stage Nine Complete. Do you wish to leave the Trial?
Alex was tempted – he’d barely been able to hold that last one up. But this trial seemed important, and he was sure he could push himself to do one more stage. There was probably a reward! Plus, he hadn't seen the key he needed yet. He quickly brought his strained hand down from the roof while the ceiling was fixed in place to flex his increasingly sore wrist. And that's when he saw that a golden thread was showing, pointing diagonally up and… into the ceiling?
Oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit. It did work, I just couldn’t see it earlier with my hand pressed against the stone.
> Commencing Stage Ten.
He physically had to duck to get his hand back in position in time, as what must have been around one hundred kilos of rock dropped onto his palms. He braced himself against the ground, using all the strength in his legs and core to reinforce his trembling arms against the overbearing pressure.
The clue is above the current ceiling level. It had looked like it was in the wall. An alcove. There must be an alcove which is only visible when the ceiling is pushed far up.
And there was absolutely no way he would be able to lift the next stage's ceiling high enough to reveal it. Hell, he had doubts he could even survive the next stage. Shitshitshitshit.
Alex was not a gym-goer. He had had a subscription once, but that had ended up being more of an ongoing series of donations to his local gym rather than an investment in his own fitness. That said, he was a 23-year-old dude in passable shape. So, face red, veins bulging, chest straining, he began to push up with everything he had. He’d tried squats before, and he suspected his form was very, very incorrect. But his legs were spread, his arms were braced, and he only needed to do this once... just once!
In the next few seconds... or else.
All conscious thought faded from his mind as he strained against the slab of stone, pushing it higher and higher. The burst of power from his thighs ended as soon as he straightened to full height and his body began to shake violently as he put everything he had into straightening his trembling arms. His chest felt like it was about to burst, and he physically couldn't breathe. His knees had begun to shake, but he kept them straight; tried to lock them. He knew this would tear his muscles – no, he could feel his arms tearing as he pushed. But grunting and moaning, he actually managed to do it. Barely. His arms were locked straight, the ceiling hanging suspended above him. And then suddenly, the pressure was gone again.
> Stage Ten Complete. Do you wish to leave the Trial?
He needed to throw up, but he couldn't afford to right now. He could see the terminus of the golden thread, an alcove in the wall as he'd suspected. It was just below the height of his upraised arms, higher than the position the diabolical sliding ceiling had been in when he’d entered.
He jumped and blindly flicked a tiny, golden object from the hidden alcove with his aching, still-raised hand. The key fell out and landed on the floor of the chamber, and he bent to pick it up with aching wrists and trembling arms.
> Commencing Stage Eleven.
Uh oh. Whoopsies. I'm dead.
Catching him entirely out of position, the falling ceiling slammed into Alex’s back as he bent over, cracking something and slapping him prone against the floor. He almost lost consciousness, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, Alex prepared to die: flattened like a bug.
But he'd forgotten one detail. Rather than flattening him, the ceiling jammed when it hit the top face of his trusty box of dirt, stopping just short of crushing him. The box was only slightly taller than Alex’s prone body, but for now it was tall enough. For the full five seconds, he lay there, in the tiny crawlspace between the floor and the ceiling.
> Stage Eleven Complete.
>
> Aberrant solution detected. Automatically concluding Trial, awarding bonus point. Congratulations, you survived.
>
> Trial of Strength Complete.
His surroundings faded, and Alex found himself back in the atrium, lying on the bare, dirt-free marble ground a few metres from the restoration pool. His violently trembling right fist clutched the golden key so tightly it was beginning to bleed, and his faithful iron dirt-box hadn’t been teleported out with him.
Oh, and he couldn’t feel his legs. But that was fine. He groaned and began dragging himself toward the pool.