People are strange. Aeron wasn't sure why, but that fact had lodged itself in his mind like a stubborn tick. "Is this really all I wanted to do when I agreed to join Satan on this little crusade?" Following his earlier moment of self-realization, he found himself doing something that was quite new for him: reflecting back on his old life. That conversation he had earlier with that Giant woman had dug deep; in fact, it allowed him to begin putting together the cryptic puzzle that Caius had left him back on Griswold's ruined manor. "That old codger was right," he thought to himself as he stared at his warped reflection in the polished marble floor. "There's something wrong with me."
"Ah, boss, there you are!" one of his subordinates yelped. "Ms. Pereph managed to find a map that we think will lead us straight to the Giants' main library; however, before we can use it, she wanted to confirm the information with you."
"She's probably just trying to cover her own ass in case this lead comes up dry." Though he couldn't exactly blame her for that, in a way, he appreciated Pereph's shrewdness.
Aeron groaned, "Just give me the report," as he rubbed the back of his neck. After the quick briefing, he unsheathed his sword and turned his attention to the ceiling above. "The Giants' military should know that we're here by now," he muttered with a sigh. "I guess that means I can afford to be a little loud." With that, he funneled his strength into a lightning-quick slash that melted through the plated roof like ice in a furnace. "Hey," he continued as he waved for the soldier from earlier to come closer. "Do me a favor and fetch Pereph. I've got a feeling that this is where the hard part begins." With his orders given, the Demon gave a quick bow and flew off to notify the rest of the regiment. "Now then," he continued as he steadily floated up to the next floor. Immediately, he picked up the harried sound of a few familiar voices.
"You dolt! Hurry up and get your act together!"
"Again, I don't think that he's the sort to care."
"Do you really want to risk that, Melin? The boss could kill you on a whim if he deemed it necessary."
"That's a risk we normal types have to take in order to live. I'm not like you paranoid pansies."
"Whelp... I guess that's that. What should we write on his tombstone?"
"Just say, 'There's no cure for idiocy.'"
"Okay, screw you, Jern."
"They certainly sound like they're having a good time." Based on the voices, he was most likely about to run into the platoon he spoke to at the mess hall. "I certainly hope those fools haven't done anything stupid," he muttered to himself with a slight giggle. It wasn't long after that until he was standing before the commander of said platoon, an ancient-looking Demon with small horns and a bizarre, crooked tail.
"Sir," the Devil started while raising the tip of his tail to his forehead—an old-fashioned salute that he heard was once common amongst Satan's personal soldiers.
"How goes the plan? Make any progress?"
The Demon thought for a moment before shaking his head, "We're just playing it by ear at the moment. I heard some of the grunts say that Ms. Pereph managed to procure a direct line to our objective, but we're still waiting for her to arrive."
"I see. Well, in that case, spread out and continue securing this floor. We don't have the manpower to completely take over this gigantic fort, so we'll make a temporary base here and move ahead with the second part of the plan."
"You hear that, you louts?!" the old Demon barked at the rest of the regiment.
"Jeez. Does that hard-ass ever give it a rest?" Melin thought with a scowl.
After that, Aeron said something that was rather out of character. "Don't work them too hard, you hear me?"
"Uh, sure, I'll try my best," the platoon leader responded in a slightly-confused tone. "Did Mr. Weber hit his head on the way here?"
It was around then that a strange chill crept down Aeron's back. "Hmm?" he muttered as he instinctively started to survey his surroundings. "What was that?" He could've sworn that someone was watching him. "A Giant? No... those oafs aren't exactly great at hiding." Being half the size of a barn tended to have that effect.
"Sir?" the platoon leader spoke up, tearing Aeron away from his thoughts. He continued, "I think you might want to see this." Before them was a fantastical wooden mural that was who knew how old which depicted the Giants' homeland alongside a lush riverbed. The water seemed to go on for forever until it cut off unceremoniously at the edge of the piece.
Aeron stood there staring at the woodwork for what felt like hours before he reluctantly pulled himself away. "It's probably nothing."
"All right, everyone, let's wrap it up!" Just like that, the veritable swarm of Devils began their final march to the upper levels of the compound; the Giants who interfered were removed with the force one would expect from a menagerie of blood-starved monsters. However, in a way, they also dolled out a frankly shocking amount of mercy: Aeron made sure that any noncombatants were spared from the executioner's axe.
"Since when did he get soft?" Melin hissed under his breath as he dragged one of the unconscious scribes out of the way of the main column.
Jern scoffed, "He's probably just trying to drag this operation back towards being the stealth mission that it was supposed to be in the first place."
"Oh, I know that face; what did I do this time?!"
Ue sighed as he jabbed his thumb in the direction of a large burning pile of God-knows-what at the back of their platoon's makeshift outpost. "Do we really need to spell it out for you? You're responsible for half of this floor!"
"So? We're soldiers. Since when was it a requirement that I had to care about the enemy?"
"Exactly ten minutes ago, when the boss told us to, you were there."
"Bunch of smartasses," Melin thought as he spat a mouthful of blood and spit into a neighboring pile of debris. "Damn thing still hurts."
"That guard from Heaven got you good, huh?"
"Ah, shut it, this ain't nothing."
"Uh huh."
With that, their retinue continued on in silence for a handful of minutes as they carefully sliced, diced, and snuck—in the loosest, most ineffective definition of the word possible—up the stairs to the next level of the complex. According to the maps that they had pilfered off of the Buried Council's employees, this floor contained their target: the Giants' classified archives.
"Do you think it'll be in there?" Aeron heard Pereph ask him over his transmitter.
"Honestly? I've got no idea. It's not like I've ever been in there before." That said, if the Giants did have knowledge of some alternate way to get into Heaven, it'd be here. "Okay," he grumbled as he sauntered up to the large ornate entrance. "Let's get this over with." Right on schedule, Pereph came flying up from a hole that'd been blown in the floor. In her arms sat a needlessly complex keychain as well as a frankly strange packet of papers.
"And those are?"
All Pereph gave him as an answer was a thumb jutted messily in the general direction of the door—her hands were full, after all. "I swiped these from one of the Buried Council's secretaries."
"Neat. How'd you accomplish that?"
"I just kept hacking away until one of 'em said that they were somebody useful."
"And is that 'useful person' still with us?"
Pereph stared at him like he was crazy. "What? Of course not. I chopped his head off the second he gave me what we needed; he'd have tripped the alarm otherwise."
Aeron frowned. "I see."
"Why so worried? Don't tell me that you've suddenly grown a conscious, boss."
"I wouldn't be in this position if that were the case." With a poker face that would make Satan herself blush, he expertly deflected Pereph's suspicions. "A conscious... empathy... such vague ideals are growing more and more vivid with every passing hour." He shook his head. At the end of the day, whatever turmoil was bouncing around in his skull wouldn't help him complete his mission. He whispered to himself, "Let's get back to the task at hand," as he lifted the keychain Pereph procured to what he assumed to be the entrance's lock. He didn't even have to insert it into the keyhole for the trinket to do its job.
"How neat," Pereph thought as they heard several gears and gizmos whir to life within the large door. In a second, the entrance slid open like a safe. They had finally reached their mission's target.
"Okay, you lot, let's grab this thing and wrap this up. I want a separate team for each section. Notify me or Pereph the second you find anything that might fit the bill."
"Roger!" Just like that, their retinue poured into the dusty and packed halls. Mountains of papers and books were stacked every which way and scattered across the floor; for a moment, the sight made Aeron slightly nostalgic for those bygone days messing around with Jeremy back at the Bureau.
"No use mulling over the past. What's done is done." After taking a moment to heed his own advice, Aeron also dove headfirst into the search. Of course, like his subordinates, he didn't have a clear idea of what exactly they were looking for. An old contract with Heaven here, a mismatched order there—every odd document seemed to point back at the main reason they were even there in the first place: the Giants' history with Heaven's spires. It was during this search that he noticed a bizarre sight: an unassuming hallway, no larger than a few meters, jutting out of the backmost corner of the room.
Pereph noticed his curious gaze instantly. "An odd location for a storeroom. If you look back, every path seems to converge on it, too. What could it be?" She craned her head to the side to stare at the archive's famous gazebo; its shimmering walls reflected light like clear water, exactly as their briefings described.
"A bit gaudy, don't you think?"
"I didn't know that this was something you were interested in, boss."
"Ah, no, it's just a passing curiosity," Aeron continued as he held his hand up to the light. The second his fingertips touched the shimmering surface, his arm was repelled back by a sudden, searing force.
Pereph scoffed, "Well, their security's lacking everywhere, but this thing seems pretty solid. Do you think what we're looking for is here?"
Aeron shook his head. "The Giants are cautious types. They wouldn't place the truly integral documents in a shiny room like this. No," he continued as he turned his head back toward the unassuming hall, "they'd hide it." Before too long, he and his retinue were striding down this unassuming pathway, and almost immediately they picked up several key clues that suggested that what they were marching through was not normal.
Melin groaned, "Ugh, I feel sick. What is this?" It wasn't just him, either; the entire platoon was suddenly feeling nauseous. The musty, dry, and crumbling stone surface that made up the pathway's ceiling seemed to radiate some sort of putrid energy that zapped them of their strength and will.
"It must be a blessing to ward off intruders."
Melin clicked his teeth and said, "Tch. A damn farce is what it is. Do you really think that the Giants would rely on such a juvenile defense system?" He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could at least tell when he was being lured. This whole mess didn't sit right with him at all.
"How strange," Aeron thought as he raised his fingertips to the soot-covered brick cladding that lined the hallway. "It feels like a façade, but why would they spend the effort on something so insignificant?" It wasn't like they were at a carnival. A pinch of the crust crumbled like crystallized sugar between his fingertips, leaving behind a dance of sparkling dust. "It's blessed? But for what reason?" If only he had a genius like Elizabeth there to decode it. "I want everyone to keep their senses sharp."
"Do you know what's going on, boss?" Pereph asked, confused, as they continued down the hall.
"No, but we're in a stronghold built by Giants—the universe's most skilled architects. Knowing that, it stands to reason that their final line of defense would be something that capitalizes on that trait."
"What? So, in that case, you think we're in a maze or something?"
"That's impossible. The Giants would never rely on such a simple construct." That fact should've been hammered into all of their heads after the hours they spent spelunking through this hulking mess of a building. "They—and especially the Buried Council—pride themselves on their versatile architecture. One could argue that this is the most important hallway on this planet; it can't just be a corroded mess." With that thought roaming through his head, Aeron gritted his teeth and headed further into the halls.
"How much longer do you think this goes?" he overheard one of the soldiers say. Indeed, what at first glance seemed to be nothing more than a simple—albeit extremely long—hallway was actually anything but normal. The crusted walls stretched on and on without any consideration for their tired, confused occupants.
"A defense mechanism? Or maybe some kind of trap?" At a glance, the end of the hall appeared to be only a few strides away; however, no matter how long they marched, they never got any closer to their destination. "Pereph, can you do me a favor and take a few steps back?"
"Sure?" As instructed, Pereph trailed behind the main group by a handful of paces; it didn't take long for him to deduce that something was amiss.
He asked her again, "How many fingers am I holding up?"
This time, however, Pereph's answer was delayed by a handful of moments. She responded, "Zero. Is this really the time for jokes, boss?" to Aeron's confusion.
"Hmm... is there a distortion?" It seemed that the further apart they were from one another, the greater the delay. "But why? What could be causing this? I don't think it's the blessing." This whole mess didn't sit right with him. "Everyone stop! I want you all to line up horizontally between the walls."
The majority of the soldiers couldn't hide their confusion. Melin groaned, "What? Why?" before the chain of command buried his skull into the nearest jagged edge.
"You didn't have to do him that badly, Ms. Pereph," Ue said as he patted the shoulder of his injured buddy. "There, there." Following that little exchange, the Demons did as they were instructed and quickly formed a thin blockade across each of the opposing walls.
"Good. Now, everybody, nod your heads!" His serious tone betrayed the rather juvenile-sounding nature of the order; however, in a clear attempt to avoid following in Melin's footsteps, the grunts quickly carried it out. "No delay," he thought. "The distortion must only go one way." A mysterious path where time varied based on location and distance to the exit. He wasn't sure how exactly the Giants managed to craft such a mind-bending oddity, but he was now at least certain of this phenomenon's purpose. "Talk about thinking with an open mind."
"Sir?"
"It's a labyrinth. We're in a labyrinth."
"What?" Pereph responded, bewildered. "You mean like those large mazes? But this place is—"
"Straight? Exactly! That's what makes this trap so otherworldly!" Before any of his subordinates could respond, Aeron tore a small chunk of rock from the dusty walls and tossed it further down the path. After flying for a few moments, it suddenly began to slow down, finally coming to a complete stop mid-air. Then, somehow, the stone slowly faded away, as if God himself were erasing it from the universe. The Demons were so confused and awestruck that they simply stood there in silence as Aeron rested another hunk of stone from their linear prison. "A maze that consists of only one straight line. Jeremy would kill to see something like this," he muttered to himself before turning back to his retinue. "All right, you all, let's put those minds to work!"