"GooG 10… starting… harvesting… harvesting… Error, 11: starting. Error… source… missing… Error… retrieve… S O U R C E…"
Unnatural voices screeched from cracked, decrepit monoliths, while their noises altered the foundations, the stairs, the Stalactites, and even the floors themselves.
The cave shifted akin to a Rubix cube: rightwards, leftwards, upwards, downwards, and random-wards—it was the embodiment of pure, unpredictable chaos.
And in this perpetual maze of chaos and disarray, a boy awoke from the deepest slumber–Alistair.
…
"What… happened… Oh Lord, God, Satan. My fucking… head, gah," Alistair chanted profanities as he touched his bloody forehead. Cut upon cut riddled it. Pain upon pain struck his soul.
He'd cursed countless times before the agony stopped. And when it did, he whispered a quiet: 'Thank Go–Aether,'
