It took days for Amelia to reacquaint herself with routine, and Kenji watched her every step of the way, making sure she didn’t have another breakdown. Allister had all but ruined her life, and now she was starting to pick up the pieces. But how long could she last? Her friends would give solace for a brief time, yes, but the past wasn’t going away and her sister was still out there. That being the case, stopping that woman had to be their first priority.
Unfortunately, no one knew her location, and even worse, Grimshackle Manor was abandoned now, so locating Unknown would be difficult as well. That meant they had to do things the old-fashioned way and head out on the town to ask questions.
Their entire party went out; they split up into two groups—Cleo and Misumi Kenji and Amelia—and they visited every market in Duncaster, every town square, as many shops as possible, and even well-known guildhalls in order to ask questions. They visited the Cathedral, the clocktower, the Expedition Hall. But no matter who they asked, nobody could point them in the right direction; not until they rendezvoused back at the guild tavern and sat at the bar, talking over where to search next.
To their surprise, it was Flanigan who gave them a tip.
According to him, the Nightthorn Church had been searching for Unknown ever since the debacle at Crow’s Watch, and they announced a public demand that he turn himself in. Naturally, he didn’t respond. But word on the street was that he had been spotted somewhere in The Hallways of Illusion, and that he was searching for something. No one knew what, but it had to be important. He wasn’t the type of man to waste his own time. And within the hour, Kenji and his party had gathered their things and were prepared to enter a new district of the Spire, one that Flanigan warned would be especially dangerous, due to the illusions it produced.
“We’ll be careful, I promise,” Kenji insisted. “But we have to find Unknown if we want a chance at stopping Allister. We have to.”
From there, their journey brought them to the Expedition Hall, where they inquired of the almighty forehead girl—Raya, whose hair was always pushed back by a headband—about entering The Hallways of Illusion, and she too warned them. Next to Dark Castle, she insisted, it was the most dangerous district of the Spire, filled with monsters few Adventurers could best. No one was supposed to enter without at least having a party of five.
Yet their search for Unknown couldn’t be stopped. They couldn’t be swayed. He was their best bet at finding Allister and reconciling with a past Amelia didn’t understand. He could lead them to the witch herself. Thus, they left the Expedition Hall after gaining as much information about the district as they could, and they traveled around the Spire to its entrance—a large tunnel guarded by stone shapeshifters, which resembled pixelated game sprites glitching in and out of existence. Again, Kenji wondered how the people of Kathra didn’t have a clue about videogames.
“You guys ready?” Kenji asked, staring into that black-as-night tunnel that had breath like cold wind. He gulped. “Unknown may not even be in there…”
But in spite of the fear, in spite of the doubt, Amelia stepped forward and cast an eager glance toward him, nodding. “Verily. But even if we do not locate Unknown or my sister, we can at least find solace in the fact that we tried. And I appreciate that you are willing to do this for me. I will always be grateful.”
Nearby, they overheard a group of Adventurers and townsfolk chatting, gossiping, whispering about how Kenji’s party couldn’t have been foolish enough to enter The Hallways of Illusion.
“They’ll never make it out,” one of the people said.
“Or they might be dragged out by a rescue team,” another scorned. “Selfish pricks. If they get into trouble, somebody else is gonna have to save their asses, and it damn sure ain’t gonna be me. I’m not babysitting a bunch of stupid kids.”
Back at the Expedition Hall, they were told the typical level minimum was 40 for that district, and while they had two level 100s in their party, both were specialized and neither were equipped with enough combat experience to live up to their maxed-out stats.
“I’m ready,” Misumi stated, fully equipped with Cinder’s clothing and her own weapons. “We’ll just avoid fighting, okay? No unnecessary risks. No leaping without looking. Let’s not prove those people right.”
“Agreed,” said Cleo, who was the most frightened out of them all. She trembled and unintentionally stayed closer to Misumi than usual, though she’d never admit to being scared.
And with a rising fear of his own, Kenji cracked his knuckles and rocked his head from side to side, popping his neck. Whatever they found in there, it wouldn’t be friendly. But then again, nothing in the Spire ever was. The whole place was hostile. Regardless, he had every confidence that they’d pull through and find Unknown, and if they were lucky, they might even run into Allister by the day’s end, or at the very least unravel a few hints about her location. Thus, as a steadier expression swept away the fear in his heart, Kenji gazed far into the tunnel.
“Alright,” he told them. “Let’s get this done.”
******
Embroidered crimson rugs fraternized with the marbled floor, which was smooth and inviting, the color of desert rocks baked in the sun, and shiny against the light pouring in from open windows along the hallway’s length. Wind came to visit, swaying blood red curtains like phantoms wiggling their tails. Classical suits of steal armor jabbed their swords into the floor, both hands resting on the bottom of the hilt. Fine portraits were systematic on the walls, each depicting a royal figure without a face, yet perhaps the most interesting facet of them was not their lack of identity, but the way they shimmered like rippling water, like portals one could step through and find another world. Kenji found himself lost in these images, for they were haunting in the eeriest way, as if each portrait were observing his every move.
“I was not expecting it to be this beautiful,” Amelia declared.
They wandered along, baffled by the imagery around them. Thus far, they had seen nothing related to the district’s namesake, though their eyes stayed peeled.
She added, “It is like a palace. I could imagine a king or queen living here.”
“Yeah,” Kenji scoffed with a single puff of breath. “If they wanted to live in a hallway.”
At one point, they stopped to look outside one of the windows, but the sunny atmosphere was blinding, too much for one’s eyes to bear. It felt like there was no world at all out there, just light—endless light. And as they persisted through the hall, Misumi came near to one of the statues and studied it with mouth agape, staring at her own reflection in the shiny metal. Cleo, however, grabbed her arm and drug her along as to stick closely together; they needed to be careful not to be too far apart, given the unknown qualities of the district.
Raya gave them plenty of information about the shapeshifters, and the way she described them reminded Kenji of garbled data on a screen. They could drip from the ceiling or phase through walls, and no matter how hard a viewer stared at them, they always appeared blurry. And when they were provoked, when they became aggressive…they’d manipulate a person’s mind with visions, hallucinations, and falsehoods, making the helpless victim waltz happily to their own death. They were terrifying, to say the least.
Hopefully, his party wouldn’t run into any of them, but Kenji didn’t get his hopes up. Crap hit the fan real fast in the Spire—he knew that. And the hammer would usually fall before he could utter the words ‘Run for it!’
Based on what Flanigan said, Unknown was spotted by the Nightthorn Church, a crazy religious cult of Sorcerers who worshipped the Spire and revered Dead-Eyes as a god rather than a wicked beast to be feared. After the attack on Crow’s Watch, Unknown must have struck a chord in them; if he could wipe out an entire fortress of high-level Adventurers, he might be able to stand against Dead-Eyes and win, and that had them shaking in their boots. The rest of Duncaster was torn, with many people fearful of his powers, while a smaller number appreciated his kick-ass assault on Septic Eel.
Kenji, on the other hand, had no opinion. Unknown was impossible to read, and if he could take on a guild by himself, maybe it was best to be on his good side. Then again, he was a member of Red River, and they were the guild that harbored Amelia below ground, which meant Allister Cain was no doubt connected to them as well. Once again, Unknown was an enigma, a person whose drive and purpose remained unclear—and most likely always would.
As his party continued through the hallways, they noticed changes in their surroundings. One stretch shifted from sleek and royal, to rusty, clammy, and smelly like a dungeon, where there were no windows of bright colors. Another section was made of solid glass; every portion of floor, every archway overhead, every wall—all of it was perfectly clear, and the exterior view was that of the sky, high up in the clouds on a beautiful day.
“This isn’t real, is it?” Misumi asked aloud, watching the clouds outside the glass walls.
“Of course it isn’t,” answered Kenji. “These are The Hallways of Illusion, remember? I bet none of this place is real. It’s probably all fiction like Phantom Valley.”
The next section of hallway changed drastically, and they walked down a clear tunnel on the sea floor, which was leaking at several points, filling the hall with water up to their ankles. They waded through and gaped at the strange creatures swimming overhead, like black sharks with needle-tipped heads and squid-like creatures twice the size of a truck. Did those animals even exist in that world? Were they made up by The Hallways?
Their sense of adventure turned into caution when that corridor led them to a much larger chamber—no, a much larger hallway—that was like the ballroom of a prince’s remote getaway, a castle deep in the mountains. A massive chandelier hung over the center, while two smaller ones dangled near the north and south archways, and a second level bordered the hall, a perfect place to relax with a glass of champagne and watch ornate dancers pirouetting with their partners during orchestral music. The floor was checkered black and white, and though the hallway continued for a seemingly endless distance, something stood in their path.
A mirror.
Where did it come from? Who put it there? And why? Kenji and his party made a wary approach, and when close enough, he reached out to touch its reflective surface, which replicated a seamless rendition of him.
“Wait a second,” Cleo insisted as she slapped his hand away. She stepped between him and the mirror. “Don’t you think this is a little suspicious?”
He scratched the back of his head. “I guess, but what do you expect us to do?”
“I expect you to not touch the damn thing,” she growled. “Let’s keep walking.”
Kenji rolled his eyes. “Could you at least try to be a little nicer? I swear, you never miss an opportunity to rebuke me. You could politely ask me to walk away, but no, you have to get all snappy and put me in a bad mood just like you.”
He continued to complain as Cleo just deadpanned, staring at him like a teenager eyeballing their pointless math homework, knowing they’re learning an impractical skill that’s of no benefit to them in reality. When he stopped, she asked:
“You done now? Can we go back to being adults?”
But he insisted on complaining more. However, just as he opened his mouth to gripe about how she always singled him out, a mysterious shadow emerged from behind her, pouring out of the mirror and onto the floor like a translucent liquid.
“Hello?” Cleo asked with both eyebrows knitted downward angrily. “You in there, sausage brains? Am I getting through to you?”
And when the shadow started to wiggle behind her, Kenji rushed forward, grabbed her, by the shoulders, and pulled her back out of the way. She squeaked and stumbled, falling into him like a damsel.
“Eww, gross!” she exclaimed, staggering back toward Misumi. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t make any moves on me! I’m not into that!”
In response, Kenji told her to be quiet and stay clear of the mirror, and their entire party then shifted focus to the shadow on the floor. It bubbled like lava, oozed like tree sap. And before they knew it, a creature formed out of the shadow, fashioning itself into something large and blurry, almost pixelated like the statues outside the Spire.
“A shapeshifter…” said Amelia under her breath. “Let us not be fooled by its trickery.”
Kenji nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. Let’s just get the hell out of here, alright?”
“Right,” chirped Misumi and Cleo in unison.
As they expected, the shapeshifter wasn’t physically aggressive in the slightest, but it was that which worried Kenji; it wouldn’t openly attack them, and instead preferred to trick them with illusions and lure them some place else. They had to be careful. And while making their escape down the hallway, a beautiful ballroom outfitted with every luxury a monarch could imagine, he noticed other blurry, pixelated masses of shadow on the second level emerging for portraits. Finally, they revealed themselves. He should have known something fishy was going on with the paintings before, but he couldn’t have anticipated this. No one could have.
And as the hallway yet again changed to another style, shape, and ambience all around them, Kenji clung near to his friends, unwilling to let any of them get lured away. If Unknown was in there somewhere, they’d find him, and they’d do it without getting separated.
