Simon walked past people dressed in brown and dusty colors, scarves covering their necks and faces while some wrapped the fabric around their head as well.
The constant murmur of trades and bargains between people beneath tarps showing off strange bits of metal or wire, one "booth" even having a few gun parts laid out. Cleaned and functional, though certainly not shiny.
Simon had to walk a bit faster to keep up with the man leading him, ducking beneath a low hanging bar that was part of a structure holding up a landing or loft made from steel and metal.
The ground dipped and rose as rises from the mountain and wide crevices seemed common. Metal scaffolding and tarps created a strange "surface town" which went down into the ravines using floors of metal linked by ladders.
Simon nodded slightly. "Why aren't the people in the complex allowed out here if we already have surface living-ability? I can't remember."
"The complex is safer, and they work to process materials and create energy in their jobs within the factories and other such facilities." The man ahead of him said plainly.
"This place is more a place for trade, for wanderers of the wastes and other settlements to come and trade materials and knowledge or supplies." He gestured to everything around them. "But the people in the complex are 'civilians', and are not adapted to the hell the surface can be. We keep them as safe as we can, until the day comes when..."
He trailed off there, and Simon tried to process the implications.
Lower level employs were deeper underground, and worked to process materials gained by Tesling Corporate while being protected from the surface.
High level employs, those who worked as guards, leaders, and... explorers?
'Yes... I think.' Simon could faintly begin to recall that Apocalypse Explorers and blackguard were the most respected positions as those who were trained to fight and die if necessary in the surface, protecting the complex or exploring the world and its mysteries, whatever that meant.
"So this test... if I'm on the surface, this test was for me to become a higher-level employee?"
The man didn't respond as he came to a door in the rock wall of a cliff face within a ravine, having led Simon down a flight of stairs hewn from the rock.
He grabbed the handle, a circle that he cranked to unlock the door before opening it, like a submarine hatch from the old-world movies.
As the door began to open...
It suddenly got pushed open much faster as someone bolted from inside, pushing past Simon as they ran with a bag bouncing off their hip.
Simon caught himself after stumbling. "What the-?!"
"Messenger." With just that monosyllabic answer, the man turned to go inside the dark room beyond. Simon glanced around slightly, and seeing no better options, followed.
The room was lit up with dusty light-blue tubes in the corners between wall and ceiling, making the edges of the room brighter than the center.
The man stood aside, standing tall. "Simon Creed has found his way, Commander Blake."
Simon focused on Commander Blake, who the scarred man was talking to, as his eyes adjusted for the second time to radically different lighting.
Purple eyes, so bright they almost-'No those are straight up glowing!'
Around his eyes, his skin was dark, as if blackened by something, and the black spread slightly along his veins from around his eyes, even as the bright violet irises stared into Simon's.
Simon found himself unable to properly say what the rest of the man looked like. He thought his hair was white or silvery, not a natural looking shade of white from age at least, and if he had to guess he'd say he was on the older side. With longer hair maybe?
These random impressions seemed stuck, snagged on the ripped bits of his mind as the rest flowed right out the second it came in, like ephemeral liquid.
But as for his height, his actual features beyond his eyes and the surrounding skin?
It felt like those parts of the images his eyes sent to his brain where just fading away the second he saw him, impossible to remember.
"Your eyes..." Simon frowned. "You're the one who messed with my head?!" He took a step back.
He didn't know this man, but anyone who looks so unnatural and is somehow capable of rewriting someone else's entire cognitive reality should be respected at least.
And Simon had gone far past that, to absolute fear.
"Tell me how you came to the surface." Simon forgot what exactly the man's voice sounded like the second he heard it.
Pressure built in his head, soft yet insistent, like a blanket was put over the insistent force to gentle it.
"I went to see Emily today..." Simon suddenly blurted out, and began to tell of how he felt certain things were wrong, how pieces came together after reviewing his own logs, how when he got home strange omissions existed with Corey, and so on.
Simon fell into a slight panic. He had absolutely no control over this, he was speaking without any control over what he said! His mouth was moving without his control, and he stepped back nervously even as he kept speaking.
'Holy shit what's happening?! Fuck fuck fuck... Calm down Si. This is so ducking crazy how the hell is he doing this?!'
Simon tried to calm down, but taking deep breaths isn't possible when your body is still speaking without your control.
On the plus side, it also made sure he couldn't hyperventilate from the increasing stress.
'Okay, he somehow forced me to tell him what he wanted to know, but I can't still move the rest of me. He can't control me entirely, just my speech?'
Simon tried to settle himself as the story continued, until the voice finally got to the part about him going through the closed sector. How he found his way in the dark and the strange notice in paper. How he resisted the false reality long enough to finally see the truth in the dust.
"You did well. Not the best we have ever had... but your drive and resolve is satisfactory." The voice that he still couldn't catch the sound of spoke again, leaving Simon confused.
"Huh?" Simon paused, touching the corner of his lip with an index as he took a step towards the shut door.
"You've already told Commander Blake all he needs. His blessing no longer forces you to answer." The scarred man gave an explanation, though it raised more questions from Simon.
"Blessing? That strange ability?"
Blake looked at him, those piercing violet eyes the only part of him that could be remembered. "The powers blessed upon me by The Librarian."
Simon blinked. 'Is he crazy?'
"No." Simon jumped as Blake responded to his thoughts!
'Can he read minds or was I just that obvious?!'
Blake looked to the scarred man, and he spoke as if that look itself was a command. "The Violet God."