I wander the strange city for hours, perhaps days. Time has once again lost purpose here in this dream. Though where the nothing from the space past the threshold threatened to break me, I am enthralled by the surroundings here.

As I have wandered, I encountered no further horrors. Even the shambling limb-workers that I beheld from on high are absent, at least in any proximity to me. I hear nothing save for my own footsteps echoing down the empty streets. See nothing but false stone facade leading to rambling alley and cavernous interiors.

The architecture is nonsensical, with winding roads terminating in featureless dead ends. Courtyards hundreds of kilometers across, or thoroughfares so tight one must pass through only after exhaling, the towering walls crushing inwards against ambling passenger. Crawlspace doors that open into a single featureless room, or lines of windows stacked on top of each other and placed without purpose, looking into hand-width space before solid wall. The entire place gives the impression of a lived in place, but without any actual meaning. An icon of a city, rather than the reality of one.

The exteriors too are perplexing, and do not seem to follow a single design convention. I see Towering old-Earth skyscrapers that blend partway along their height into the claustrophobic group-habs of Venusian mining outposts. Simple clay structures of Martian fief that suddenly sprout into Orokin high filigree, golden spires jutting comically out of buildings not even one tenth their size, leading skyward into suspended half-rooms of stellar resort ship. What is more perplexing is that no matter the inspiration, all surfaces are of the same stone. What should be a wooden door, porcelain lattice, alloy hull, or seriglass pane is all cut from the same cold, swirling lith.

I find some amusement in discerning the separate parts from the chaos, seeing hallmarks of architectural design from colonies and time periods all across Sol. The exercise centers me, and soon I almost entirely forget the trauma from before I descended into the city of stone.

I am jolted from my reverie by the first foreign sound I have heard since descending. The piercing sound of shattering glass.

I pause mid-step, waiting for further disturbance. Again, I hear glass break nearby.

I change direction and head towards where the sound emanated. The buildings here deflect each crash, passing source into room and out of tunnel, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The flat windows of the buildings become as eyes, and the doorways mouths. Where architecture twists into new forms, I see mocking smiles, and realize I am plaything for the city itself.

Incensed, I break into a sprint.

I find myself strangely unafraid to discover the source. I feel almost as a tourist in this dream, a voyager on conquest of new seas, bold and daring. My determination from earlier has not changed and I am resolute to push through the trials of this dream and emerge once more into waking as luminary. Thus, I am eager to learn all that this strange place may have to offer.

After chasing sourceless sound for several kilometers, breath ragged from the pursuit, I emerge into a grand courtyard, empty save for a massive cenotaph directly in its center. Atop the monument, I behold the goal of my chase.

At first I mistake it for yet another transition into foreign architecture, the upper segment appearing similar to ascension plinth or cathedral glass. But then, I see its extremities undulating softly on the side of the stone and recognize it as life.

It is an imposing creature possessed of spindle limbs terminating in gnarled human hands. Withered skin drapes loosely like cloth, and wrinkles run along the surface. Atop its eight appendages, the massive radial I mistook for architecture before. The stoneflesh at the base of the radial is carved raw and soft, calcifying as it grows towards the apex of the ring. Again I see the parallels to cathedral glass, though in further observation I am reminded too of natural inspirations. Dried honeycomb, or withered pod of lotus flower.

Occasionally, it readjusts its position atop its perch. With each labored step, the sound of crushing glass. Skyward it faces its aperture, changing direction not with neck, but manually, operated by two of its elongated limbs clutching the outer rim. Sick, unearthly hues are projected from the radial, shifting in unnatural patterns. I see colors I cannot describe, changing

not just in intervals, but throughout the beams themselves in cloud shaped patterns, as if the light were merely fluid to transport these deeper casts. The shafts of light extend into the infinite, and the juxtaposition of these unnameable hues against stark white sky causes my head to spin.

I inadvertently let out a short triumphant yell, pleased to have finally tracked the elusive beast, and the creature whirls atop its perch to face me. In an instant, it skitters to ground level with frightening speed.

Facing me now, I see it in its entirety, and clutched in the center of the spider-like appendages is a charred, smoking form, frozen in agony. The hands cradle it delicately, almost protectively, yet the fingers dig into the burnt flesh with greed. From the central figure's size and proportion, it seems almost childlike, and the cracks in its surface bleed with thin vapor matching the same unearthly hues cast by the creature's radial.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

My bravado from earlier melts away in an instant. The parallels to arachnids of the waking world are too easy to make, and I fear I have stumbled into its web. Were I to flee, the speed it displayed would overtake me before I could return to the cramped capillaries of the city proper.

I am reminded of the subseas of Mars, though I only went there once in my entire life. Beneath, where Orokin genetic artisans had not yet affected the wildlife, creatures evolved into strange niches in the dark. One such beast was a massive crustacean with an odd nine limbs.

How strange that I remember the exact number…

Each limb was tipped with a taut membrane of skin, and the creature would collect gas in alveoli within its ghostly carapace, remaining completely motionless for days save for the nearly hundred meter long sense threads that swayed gently in the deep,. When suitable prey tripped the threads, it would inflate the membranes and launch itself towards the surface with terrifying speed. Carapace would open, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and whatever hapless victim was in its path would be gored in an instant. Common sight were ultinoth carcasses, looming in the depths, decaying flesh still host to swarms that had bled the gentle giants into the churning dark. Even the subsea mariners in their modern vessels would exercise caution, lest a sudden attack rend their hull and open it to the crushing black.

Such surprising speed comes to mind now with this once stationary beast approaching, descending cenotaph and reaching ground before I can fully draw breath.

But after closing a few meters between us, the creature stops once more. It seems to regard me for a moment, determining if I am threat, or perhaps worthy prey. Its radial tilts and shifts in quick intervals, like the head of some energetic avian. After several moments of tense silence, it seems to relax, stretching up to full height and moving in a direction away from me.

Though the creature has no mouth, I hear its voice. Carried by the resonance of glass, it sings on wavelengths that make no word, yet carry meaning all the same.

It says to me thus,

'You who have passed over the threshold and dived into the deeper waters, know this. You stand here upon the abyssal shelf. Above you, fathomless sea. Below, inverted depths, where still mirror surface reflects into infinity. There is no further way-point. You straddle it now, half within, half without. A part of you is already claimed, yet some umbilical is holding you to the world of waking. You exist as manifold, but where you coalesce is yet unmade.'

The creature climbs up a nearby building and adjusts its radial towards the city at a seemingly arbitrary point. The unearthly light emits once more, intensifying into a maelstrom of color so bright, I at last sprout shadows from my feet, and the featureless cityscape springs to life.

Darkness adds definition to the plain surfaces, and I see things cast by the light that are not there. Figures dancing with mad fervor. Ancient trees bending in the nonexistent wind. I see ship and creature of impossible size grow and shrink, overlap and merge. I watch leviathans devour the invisible dancers and birth new masses from their backs, shadows falling down building length, dancing wildly in the air as they plummet. In this new light I see the city is not empty, it is overflowing with life.

'I guide you now to path unseen. For I am that which reveals. I am that which protects and guides. I am beacon. I am warmth.'

The small figure clutched in the center moves slightly, its childlike frame pulling inwards into a fetal position. The hands let go of the radial and gently cup the figure, protecting it. Hoarding it.

'But I am also lure. I blind. I distract. I am warmth. I am fire.'

The rest of the creature tightens its form like the burnt figure. Were it not so monstrous, it may even seem pathetic.

'And I am the final archetype of the world above.'

The creature continues to emit light, its head held at fixed position, yet no longer does it move. Its limbs now fully drawn inwards to protect the figure, it remains affixed to the side of the building like ocean parasite upon ship's hull. I no longer hear the hum of resonance, or the gentle song of falling glass. Silence once more.

Wordlessly, I turn to where the light projects and follow the path.

I walk amidst the shadows for several kilometers. No longer blank, the city along the path is alive, but hostile. The shadows flit at the edges of my vision, probing my defenses. I see whispers directed at me by figures hidden in the teeming masses. The leviathans slow as they pass overhead, and their unseen eyes fix upon me. Ships of star, sea, and sky draw alongside my path, melting into the edges of buildings and emerging suddenly from alley and window. Their harpoons seek to capture me, a rare prize of flesh in this place of stone. I follow path with guide, but am illuminated as if by spotlight in the dark.

Eventually, I reach a break in the city, the buildings suddenly and cleanly severed by invisible blade at this terminus.

Before me, the sky extends in all directions, yet the light continues onwards.

The shadows of the city have grown still now, but they watch me all the same. No longer do the revelers dance in their cycle of life and death. They watch from corner and doorway, awaiting my next move.

Tentatively, I test the empty space before me under the light's path, and my foot meets resistance. With trepidation I take another step, and I am afloat in the nothing. I take one last look at the city behind me, and see the still shadows watching in silence. I feel their hunger wash over me.

I turn away from the place of dust and stone.

I walk across the nothing under the light.

RIS [https://i.imgur.com/fcYwlef.png]