"Come on, we're going to miss it!" A small, pale hand pulled Glenn away, as he followed reluctantly. They were moving through the crowd, and Glenn had to push his way through most people. Music was coming from all around them, creating a joyful atmosphere. A few people were discussing around a small booth, beer cups in their hands.
"It seems like the festival is going well!" He exclaimed, having to raise his voice so that his sister could hear him. He saw her nod multiple times, an excited expression on her face. Glenn smiled slightly, enjoying the smile on her face. It had been a while since his little sister had managed to even show some happy emotions. He couldn't blame her, though. Even he felt guilty each time he enjoyed himself a little.
But it was good that the little one managed to get this thing out of her head. As long as she was happy, he was. A drunken man bumped into him, spilling his beer all over his clothes. Glenn jumped in surprise, looking at his clothes with a sad gaze.
"For real? That was my best shirt!" Glenn exclaimed, turning toward the drunken man. His complaints went nowhere, as the man was already sleeping peacefully on the floor, completely inebriated. The young man shook his head, before turning away. He then noticed something. Something very wrong. His sister wasn't grabbing his hand anymore. His heart stopped, as panic and fear began to seize his mind. He pushed away the people around him.
"Lina! LINA!" Glenn yelled as strongly as he could, but his sister was nowhere in sight. He made his way through the crowd, jumping on a table, disregarding the things on it. He'll apologize later: his sister was more important than anything. Ignoring the protest of the people sitting where he was standing, he surveyed the crowd, searching for his sister.
"Damn it, it shouldn't be too hard, she's the only idiot going around with pink hair," Glenn muttered, worried.
He finally saw her, but he noticed something that chilled him to the bone. A hooded man was planting a syringe in the back of her neck, hidden in the crowd. But Glenn could see him.
"STINGER!" He yelled, as strongly as he could.
The crowd reacted instantly, dispersing itself. There were quite a few cases of people getting drugged during similar events, the criminals using syringes to send the poison directly into their victim's system. As such, they've been surnamed the "stingers". You only need to scream it for everyone to be filled with paranoia and to search for the bastard trying to drug people. Soon enough, the guy trying to drug his sister got noticed, and a band of people began to run after him. Glenn hurried near his sister, noticing her wobbly steps.
"Hey, hey, are you alright?" He asked, worry in his eyes.
Lina barely answered, her eyes droopy. The smile on her face had barely faded, and she quickly stumbled into his arms. He caught her, a few tears escaping his eyes.
"Why, why did I let go of your hand?" He tried to shake her slightly, but a dreamy expression was on his sister's face, and she seemed unable to respond.
He took his phone from his pocket with trembling hands, trying to dial the number for the police. His fingers were trembling too much, making it way harder than it was supposed to be. Luckily, someone had already called the authorities. Quite a crowd was surrounding his sister, trying to help her as best they could.
"I'm a doctor, let me pass!" A man yelled, cutting through the crowd. He ran toward her, checking up on her. The man began to explain something to Glenn, a relieved expression on his face, but the young man couldn't understand what the doctor said. A loud sound was thumping in his ears, and he was breathing erratically. He shook his head, staring at his sister with teary eyes.
"Damn it.."
"Hgn, what a shitty dream..." Glenn muttered, rubbing the sleep of his eyes. He struggled to open them, still feeling exhausted. The restful slumber did its job, filling Glenn with energy, but not solving the pain and aches he had all over from yesterday's strenuous activities. He sat himself up, yawning loudly, shaking off the last traces of sleep. He shifted his attention towards the surroundings
He released a satisfying yawn, shaking off the last traces of sleep, and shifted his attention towards the surroundings. The room was quiet, save for the gentle flickering of the torch hanging from the place he left it yesterday. Dust particles danced in the air, illuminated by its warm glow. Glenn got out of his sleeping bag, stretching. His body cracked loudly at every joint. He picked up the torch and headed toward a corner of the room to relieve himself.
"Sorry, the ancient cult temple, but I couldn't find any bathroom," Glenn said aloud, his voice echoing in the room.
A loud noise grumbled in his stomach, and he looked back at the tent, thinking about the crumbled remains of mushrooms and berries he left there. After consideration, he decided that he'd rather be hungry instead of risking yet another death by food poisoning.
He took his sword in his right hand, the torch in his left, and started his exploration of the dark passage, following the steps of Howard Jefferson, the Seeker.
'Being an explorer is quite exhilarating; I'm going to be honest, I like it,' Glenn thought, smiling. He only needed a lasso and a leather hat to complete his role!
Walking in the dark passage, Glenn walked one step after the other, trying to check for traps and hidden devices, looking for things hidden in the walls, and inspecting the engravings, hoping to uncover secrets of valuable information. This game of his went on for ten minutes before his patience waned, and he gave up scrutinizing every inch of the passage.
He thought there would be traps, monsters, or anything else, but it was just a long walkway, with walls covered in writing he couldn't understand. Quite boring.
'Is my translation power just limited to the most common language in this world?' Questioned Glenn. This "translation" power that he got was one of the most puzzling things he received after coming into this world.
'Maybe I have only the basic package? I guess if I want to understand older kinds of languages, I'll need to study them.' He gazed at the walls covered in ancient language.
'It might prove useful if I fall again on ruins or "fallen pieces" like this one.' And looking at his luck until now, he did not doubt that he would fall on such later on.
Apart from the typical presence of dust and spider webs, the passage offered little to pique his interest. The monotony of his march was only broken when he finally caught sight of a faint glow at the end of the corridor. Intrigued, he quickened his pace, eager to unveil the source of the light.
When he arrived in the new room, his gaze was immediately drawn to an immense white crystal, shining moonlight everywhere in the room, floating above a pristine water pool, casting shimmering reflections across its surface. This spectacle was surreal.
It was at least ten meters high and eight meters wide. His torch was now useless, he put it on the ground and got close to the crystal. A pulse could be felt throughout the room, coming from the majestic stone, traversing his skin, not too different from how a bass would feel at a concert.
'I guess that's where the crystal shard from yesterday came from. Did it naturally get pulled to the big one? Cool.' His eyes glimmered as he got closer to the crystal. Looking left and right, he saw other corridors, but they were all destroyed.
No exit in view for him. He shrugged and walked toward the water pool. It was pristine, almost shining with purity. Glenn felt suddenly thirsty looking at the water, and instantly decided to be careful about it. That was way too suspicious! How could there be clean water in this place? Above the pool was a small bridge made of stone bricks that led to the crystal.
Glenn stepped on the stone path and walked toward the mystical object. There was a stone pedestal in front of it at the end of the path. He quickly got closer to it, seeing that something was written in yet another engraving. He touched the pedestal, his finger following the path carved in the stone, when he heard a thundering voice.
"Only a fallen one shall harness the power of the sky. If one isn't, to dust he shall go back."
Glenn turned around, making sure of what just happened.
'Did a stone pedestal just talk to me?' Just having this thought made him feel like he was going crazy.
'And a "fallen one"? Why does everything have ominous names in this world? I didn't even try to "harness" anything; why am I getting threatened?' Glenn complained inside his mind, a bit too scared to talk out loud. Both curious and scared of this crystal, the young man stepped past the pedestal, getting closer to the white mass, to the point where he could touch it if he wanted to.
He slowly breathed, noticing that it formed a small white cloud in front of his mouth. The room wasn't particularly cold, though. He suddenly felt something with his feet on the ground, almost kicking it in the pool.
Lowering his gaze, he saw some clothes and a little belt pouch. Looking back to the stone pedestal, he thought of his predecessor, Howard Jefferson. He looked back at the small pile, then at the crystal, then at the pile.
'No way, did he..? Oh, man. Well. I'll be taking that.' He shrugged, kneeling in front of the stack. That guy was dead, probably. It would serve Glenn better than it would if it just stayed there.
Our protagonist shamelessly picked up the pouch, tying it up to his waist. He wanted to check what was inside it right away, but he restrained himself and chose to get even closer to the crystal.
Dangerously closer.
Glenn wasn't stupid, he knew that there was a big chance of finishing in a pile of ash like Sir Howard over there. Nonetheless, he had a strange feeling that he wasn't going to share the same fate as him. He couldn't tell why he felt like that, but his guts told him it was safe. His mind was also insulting him, but trusting his mind was something he rarely did anyway.
Compelled by both curiosity and the tantalizing possibilities the crystal offered, he inched closer, his hand extending hesitantly.
Would he "harness the power of the sky"? Or would he 'go back to dust'? That was the question, wasn't it?
He inched his hand closer and closer to the crystal, ready to touch it. Suddenly, he jerked it back and sighed.
"What am I doing…" He shook his head and turned away from the enticing shiny stone. He didn't know whether he would end up as a pile of ash or not, but just in case, he wouldn't try his luck at it.
He already had too much of a hard time keeping his life, it would be quite saddening to lose it so stupidly.
Instead, he sat down near the water and opened the pouch he picked up. He looked inside it, but he couldn't find anything.
Glenn plunged his hand inside the pouch, only to find…nothing. Nothing at all. Strangely, he couldn't find the end of the pouch, but perhaps it was his imagination…
No, it wasn't. When his whole arm was buried in the thing, that meant there had to be an issue.
"I feel like a magician…" The young man muttered, the corner of his lips perking up as he played with the strange pouch for a while. He quickly got tired, though, and stood up to try and find an exit to this place.
Because all of that was fun and interesting, but if he couldn't get out he was as good as dead. It wasn't with the pitiful amount of crushed mushrooms and berries that he was going to survive for long.
His findings were the same as when he first arrived in the room. Excluding the one he came from, there were three corridors, and three openings in each wall of the room, but they were all collapsed under rubble and stones.
"Man..." Glenn scratched his head, trying to see if there was someplace for him to fit through and escape this place, but there was nothing.
"Maybe I should try moving the stones?" He tentatively picked up one of them, only to let it go seconds later.
"Phew, damn, huh, it's...really...really heavy!" He hissed, his hands on his waist. He stood straight, making his back crackle, before he tried again to create a passageway in the rubble.
Soon enough, he found himself extremely tired, but most of all, very thirsty. He didn't have any water, besides the one from the extremely tantalizing but suspicious pool.
Glenn gave it one look, then a second, before sighing and kneeling beside it. He joined his hands together and brought a handful to his mouth. The water was cold to the touch and crystal clear.
The young man gulped and steeled himself, "Here goes nothing..."
He drank the whole thing, feeling a fresh feeling wash over his intestines. It was as if he'd just eaten ice cream in a forty-degree Celsius weather.
Quite the purifying experience, that was for sure.
So purifying that it made him feel like his aches and pains from carrying the stones were getting washed away by the water. He gathered another handful of water and drank it. His theory was quickly verified when most of his pains completely disappeared, replaced by serenity.
"And now there is some magical water... Did I stumble upon the Fountain of Youth...?" He seriously asked, staring at the crystal clear water. He shook his head and stood up with a resolute expression.
With the help of this magical water, he would dig a way out of this place, and escape back to the light of the day! If day there was...
Glenn then proceeded to dig a way out as best he could, carrying a heavy stone after another. The rubble seemed never-ending, but he could see the small pile he created next to the passage growing larger and larger as time passed.
There was hope, he was sure of it!
At least, until he began to feel the hunger. When that happened, he reluctantly stuffed his mouth with the crushed berries and mushrooms, a paste not nice to the palate, but it'll have to do.
When he got tired, he walked back to Howard's camp, and slept there, covered in dust and cobwebs. When he woke up, he went back to the passage he was digging out and kept on working.
He drank when he was thirsty, but now, there was nothing else to eat. So he drank instead. He kept on this cycle for three nights, sleeping, working, drinking, and then back to sleep.
On the fourth day, he began to feel as if a beast was clawing its way out from his insides. Never in his whole life had he been feeling so darned hungry. So he kept on digging and digging, with a growing despair.
On the fifth day, he simply sat in front of the passage, his eyes bland and void of strength.
"So that's how I die, huh..." He looked at the pond, retching at its sight. He had drank so much of the crystalline water that he had begun to get disgusted by it. As good as it was, it was the only thing he could consume quickly made him hate it.
He slapped his cheeks weakly, and practically rolled next to the pond. He plunged his head inside it, enjoying the refreshing feeling on his head. It felt as if his mind was getting cleared of the hunger occupying it.
Refreshed, he took his head out, and instantly felt the hunger come back like it had never left.
Glenn's lips perked up slightly in a sad smile, before he punched the ground with his remaining strength, not even hurting his hand from how weak the hit was.
"Damn it!" Tears pearled down from his eyes as he felt like he had lost all hope.
"I'm going to die here, aren't I?" He whispered, lying on his back as he stared at the stone ceiling.
No, there was one last chance. The most dangerous choice of all. Glenn forced himself up and walked next to the crystal. He breathed deeply, his eyes closed.
Feeling like a gambler at a casino, he slowly placed his hand on the crystal. The only thing was that it wasn't money he was betting, no, it was his damned life.
"All or nothing..." He said in a soft voice, his gaze resolute. He held his hand out, ready.
His fingers brushed against the surface of the crystal, making an icy chill course through him. The experience was inexplicable, the word "pure" somehow capturing the essence of the sensation. Pulses of energy surged through his body, leaving him simultaneously exhilarated and drained.
He struggled to articulate this sensation, yet it seemed like only one word could encapsulate it: Pure. The pulses from the stone coursed through his hand, enveloping his entire body and evoking a myriad of indescribable sensations.
"Wooaw, I'm trippinnnng..!" He barely managed to say, his mouth feeling like cotton.
His strength began to wane, his consciousness fading. With a desperate hope that he wouldn't share the same fate as Howard Jefferson, he succumbed to the encroaching darkness, his senses spiraling into a blissful void. He felt comfortable, like when you just woke up from a really good night of sleep, and the only thing you want is to keep on sleeping, and you are in the perfect position in the bed to do so.
Regaining consciousness, Glenn's vision remained hazy, the world before him a blur. A hand extended towards him, urging him to grasp it. He struggled against his weakness, attempting to comply, but his body felt ethereal, disconnected. The hand's insistence grew more pronounced, its urgency palpable. Focusing all his effort, Glenn managed to force his eyes open, glimpsing at the hand's grotesque appearance.
Some flesh strips barely held it, each moving in the same way as the tentacles from late father Albenas.
'Okay. I am NOT shaking that hand,' He screamed inside his mind, his eyes widening madly.
To his astonishment, the hand appeared to acknowledge his unspoken refusal, retracting swiftly. The palm revealed a black tongue, and a mouth encompassing it emerged. The tongue was pointed towards Glenn.
'What the fu- Why does it keep on getting weirder and weirder? Am I a Jojo?'
A dry voice emerged from the hand, with a mocking tone.
"Huh. What are you?"