DISCOVERY PART 5D

Day 448; 1557 (Afternoon)
Focus: 513

The glazed over eyes of dead, unburnt beasts embedded in the walls of the hallowed out tunnel followed 513's movements as he cautiously trekked through the darkness. Their unceasing glares pierced through his tough facade, unnerving his reticent nature. Doubt started to slowly form in the back of his mind, but he quickly shook those thoughts away. Despite the internal turmoil occuring deep within him, he couldn’t simply put his trek on hold.

513: “...”

His vigilance was carefully maintained while he stealthily moved. The spacing between each step he took and his rate of travel were controlled in moderation. His movements were maintained at a constant rate. His methodical steps promoted low impact footwork -- reducing the sound made by his feet -- which allowed for swift movement without the cost of additional noise. 

He fully relied on this technique to safely traverse through the tunnel.

Still, regardless of the methods he employed to mitigate potential threats and dangers, the overwhelming feeling of dread continued to weigh down on his shoulders. 

Faint traces of glimmer and sheen reflected in the eyes of dead bodies plastered within the walls of the tunnel created a heavy atmosphere that could easily crush the soul of an overconfident individual. It was the type of setting that gave off the feeling of impending doom. 

As the pathway ahead of him began to narrow, 513 buried himself inside his thoughts.

[It is likely that their bodies have started to defrost from the fires...the shimmer in their eyes are simply the reflections of light bouncing off a thin layer of water coating their corneas...yes, that must be it.] 

Ignoring all other possibilities for the discomfort he felt from the leering eyes, 513 decided that the best course of action would be to disregard all remaining distractions and move forward with a clear mind; he couldn’t lose sight of the primary goal of his exploration, which was reconnaissance of undiscovered enemy territory located just beyond the webbed wall.

Upon reaching the halfway point of the tunnel, the putrid smell of burnt and decaying remains reached an extreme. The miasma that failed to vent through the tunnel entrance and exit had collected in this location, stagnating the local air in a thick cloud of rancid malodor.

Having taken a whiff, 513 creased his brows and frowned.

He stifled a few coughs to clear his lungs of the pungent vapor, then consciously limited his breathing to short gasps, all while quickening his pace. The unexpected event caused him to make an audible complaint.

513: "Fuck...this is...this is pretty...blegh...pretty bad."

Covering his mouth with his shield wielding hand, he hastened his travel. He aimed to swiftly cross the area of stagnation without incurring much damage to his psyche. 

[I wanted to stave off the horrendous smell, but breathing through my mouth was...not wise. I should make myself a mask lined with soap moss after this.] He mused while regretting his lack of forethought. [Such a mask will aid me in many ways...why didn’t I think of this earlier?]

513 brainstormed designs for the mask in his head while he sped through the tunnel. The mental distraction allowed him to proceed past the midpoint without much incident. Once he cleared the area of stagnation, he slowed his pace back down to his original travel speed and cleared his mind of unnecessary thoughts.

[Hmm…] He hummed to himself. [The spiders should have noticed my presence by now, even after taking precautionary steps to lower the possibility of being detected.]

513 knew the spiders were cunning, ruthless creatures. He fully expected them to set up traps or even carry out a tactical assault while he was ‘trapped’ within the confines of the tunnel. In fact, the perfect place for an attack was the midway point, where his breathing and focus was compromised. The problem was, aside from the unsettling nature of the tunnel walls, he met zero resistance, which unsettled him.

His worries only increased as he moved through the latter half of the tunnel unhindered. 

Due to this, the very moment he saw a faint trace of light appear near the end of the narrow tunnel, he assumed a defensive stance. 

He quickly raised his severing shield, which revealed itself from underneath the heavy fur cloak that covered his body. 513 was confident that the shield's extra layer of protection was enough to continue moving forward.

In his left hand, he firmly gripped his spear-sword with the tip aimed towards the light. 

His movements slowed as he approached the ever growing light at the end of the tunnel. His feet shuffled noiselessly, maintaining the eerie silence in the air.

As he crept along, 513 instinctively made himself smaller. He lowered his stance, bringing his center of gravity closer to the ground. Then, he narrowed his profile by pivoting his body at an angle. 

The closer he approached the exit, the more he moved towards one side of the tunnel; naturally, since he held his primary weapon with his left hand, he moved towards the right side.

[With my weapon located close to the center of the tunnel, the range of my attacks won’t be artificially constrained...now, to see what type of trap these spiders have set for me.]

513’s vigilance towards his surroundings never once faltered while he was inside the tunnel. Even so, he was aware of his shortcomings. 

Most of his trained senses had been sealed due to the inherent nature of the webbed wall, which absorbed noise like sound dampening foam; his sight, blocked as light was unable to penetrate through the mass of silk, resulting in perpetual darkness enveloping the tunnel aside from it’s entrance and exit; his sense of smell, tainted from the residual stench of fire and rotting corpses. Aside from his sense of touch -- which was still being developed to superhuman levels -- the very senses that he had been training to supplement the deficiencies found with his True Sense ability were deemed useless.

[How unfortunate. I guess I have no choice in the matter.] He grumbled in his mind.

Stopping his advance, he anchored himself to the ground then pulsed True Sense.

At the same moment, the exit of the tunnel was blocked off, causing darkness to invade the poorly lit section of the tunnel.

Startled by the event, 513’s focus was interrupted. His ability was distorted, and he was unable to capture the layout outside of the tunnel. Instead, the targeted wave of True Sense bounced off of the blockage and spread into the walls. It was a scenario that 513 was trying to avoid.

He clenched his teeth and buried his head in the palm of his shield wielding hand as a flood of information spilled into his mind, automatically forming a composite, mental image of his surroundings. He swallowed down a scream as he struggled to maintain his composure.

As his uncontrolled ability continued to rippled through the walls, flashes of disturbing images tumbled into his mindspace. Nightmarish pictures of broken and mangled corpses slowly reaching out to embrace him with their hollowed out bosoms, flickered inside his head like short-lived sparks. His mind and body tingled with aversion as he mentally kicked and punched his way out of the scenario.

Regrettably, the terror brought forth by his uncontrolled ability didn’t end with just that. 

A hazy vision took hold of his mental space just as he escaped from the clutches of his hallucinations. 

513’s consciousness left his body and was suddenly placed inside a dimly lit room made of polished stone and weathered bark. The floor and ceiling sparkled like glittering gems as the shadows of torch flames danced across the room’s four identical walls. 

Strangely, he could not tell how large the room actually was. His perspective and sense of distance seemed to be neutralized while his movements were sealed. 

[Fuck. What is this?] He mentally noted.

His irritation was replaced with subtle fear as a giant goblet emerged from the floor in the center of the room. The empty goblet quickly filled with the blood and entrails of various creatures until the mixture of foreign liquid and organs spilled from the goblet’s rim and onto the sparkling stone floor. 

513: “...”

513 was unable to respond as his mouth remained shut. It was a futile act since he couldn’t move in the first place.

Once filled, the goblet emitted a faint light that grew in intensity until the entire room was turned white. 

Unable to close his eyes nor turn away, 513 suffered through the blinding experience while mentally cursing. 

His vision, which took time to adjust from the sudden change in lighting, remained fixed on the center of the room. Once his sight returned, he found himself staring at a gigantic, visceral face floating just above the large stone goblet. 

513: “...”

Still unable to perform any meaningful actions, 513 grew more frustrated and continued to scream profanities in his mind.

Meanwhile, the giant floating face stared at 513’s unmoving body from a distance. It stared at him with neither malice nor hate, but instead, with pity. 

[Fuck you.] He mentally cursed at the floating head, which lacked any skin or hair.

As if reading his thoughts, the giant face made from the entrails of numerous creatures cracked a gentle smile. The smile revealed teeth made from limbs and faces.

Now that it had gotten 513’s full attention, it pantomimed a series of words and phrases while indifferently staring at 513. However, the person being spoken to couldn’t understand the entity's intentions or words.

[Zordon, I have no clue what you are saying.] 513 quipped in frustration.

Once it had completed its task, the giant face exploded, spraying the vision space in a cloud of red mist. 

The abrupt end to the encounter simultaneously kicked 513 back to reality.

[What...what the fuck was that?!?] He questioned while breathing heavily. [Why? How? Shit, I don't have time for this...] 

Time was of the essence. If he couldn’t immediately identify the purpose of the phenomenon or experience, he had to abandon any contemplations regarding it until a more suitable time.

How did losing control of his ability cause such a phenomenon? What did it mean? Should he expect similar events to occur in the future? These were questions he had to put on hold until his current predicament was settled.

Right now, he had more pressing issues to tackle.

513: “Focus.”

He gently whispered while emptying his thoughts.

What he needed was clarity before entering a hostile engagement. It was something he had painstakingly learned over the course of several battles.

After taking a few moments to collect himself, he turned his attention to the object blocking the exit. 

[I need to deal with this quickly before I get flanked or surrounded.]

513 abandoned his defensive stance and leaned his spear-sword against his left shoulder and slammed the butt spike (of the spear-sword) into the ground. He then adjusted his body positioning to suit the act of throwing small projectiles, and stuffed his free hand into one of the many pouches attached to his utility belt. 

A faint smile appeared on his face as he produced several jagged pebbles which he tucked away in his palm.

Finding no point in aiming, he immediately flicked the stones towards the blockage after inspecting them with his fingers. Once his free hand ran out of small stones, he retrieved more from the pouch. 

This process continued as he slowly advanced towards the blockage. 

513 was flicking the pebbles at such a high rate that the resounding impacts sounded like a heavy downpour of hail.

[Hmm...this blockage is tougher than a False Arachne’s carapace...I wonder what it is.]

In fact, 513 had launched the first few stones at the blockage with enough power to easily kill a normal False Arachne. Upon noticing this discrepancy, he adjusted his attack by progressively increasing the strength behind each toss. Still, not even a dent was made on the obstruction.

513: “Hmm…”

In the absence of light, 513 blindingly stared at his hand holding a new set of jagged stones he had retrieved from the pouch, and decided it was time to throw them with more purpose; to launch the projectiles using his entire arm. 

Up until this point, he had been leisurely flicking the stones using only his fingers.

Once he enacted the changes, the sound of whistling rocks colliding with the obstruction became harsh and violent. 

With all the adjustments he was making to his attack, 513 relied on his keen senses to determine any improvements. He worried that utilizing his pulse ability might cause him to involuntarily re-enter the strange room with the large goblet and the skinless face. So, he purposefully avoided using True Sense.

After a few breaths of time had passed, results from his adjustments began to show.

The blockage trembled after receiving a sequence of devastating blows from rocks that disintegrated on impact. Flashes of light started to seep into the tunnel, invigorating 513’s plight. 

In response, he intensified his attack.

[Good. If tossing small stones is enough to push back this obstruction, then a spear thrust would be adequate to clear the blockage.] He mused enthusiastically.

---Chapter End