The hallway was dark and dank, filled with an oppressive mustiness that seemed to seep out of the very walls. The air was gravely still, heavy and thick in its motionlessness. Not a single sound managed to make its way past the thick stone walls that lined the corridor, making it seem even more desolate.
The walls were damp from the moisture that was trapped in the air, and a thick layer of rust was already beginning to form on the metal fixtures and surfaces. The hallway was lit by a series of weak light bulbs that were spaced far apart so that no light ever managed to actually reach the far end of the hallway.
As the hallway continued on, everything seemed to get darker and more oppressive. At the end of the hallway was a solid metal door, equally as rusted and musty as everything else. It was covered in a thick layer of rust and grime, and it seemed as if it had been there for a very long time. It was quite clear that no one had been down here for a very long time.
And then, I encountered a door. It was equally as rusty, equally as dilapidated, equally as moldy, and disgusting as the rest of the hallway. But the subtle amber light peering through the crack at the bottom gave Silas a hint of hope at something nicer.
Knock Knock Knock
As I turned the creaking handle of the rusty metal door, it reluctantly swung open, revealing a stark contrast to its weathered exterior. The transition was like stepping through time itself. The room beyond was a neat, well-organized office, bathed in a warm, golden light that emanated from a series of brass and glass steampunk-style lamps hanging from the polished wooden ceiling.
The walls of the office were adorned with wooden panels, each one varnished to a rich, dark hue that accentuated the intricate grain patterns. They seemed to be part of an earlier era, harkening back to the craftsmanship of a bygone time. Various vintage gears, clockwork mechanisms, and ornate gauges had been artfully integrated into the woodwork, adding to the overall steampunk aesthetic.
In the center of the room, a large wooden desk stood, its surface neatly polished and adorned with brass inlays and rivets. The desk's front panel featured an array of brass and glass dials, reminiscent of an antique control console. Behind it, a high-backed leather chair with brass accents waited, turned around, hiding the man sitting upon it.
Shelving units, also made of polished wood and adorned with brass trim, held an assortment of curiosities and leather-bound books. The books seemed ancient, their pages yellowed with time, and the shelves displayed various mechanical wonders—cogs, gears, and intricate clockwork models.
The room was filled with the soft ticking of vintage timepieces, and the air was infused with the faint aroma of oiled gears. Copper pipes ran along the walls, part of an elaborate steampunk plumbing system that kept the room's devices operational. A large window on one wall allowed dappled sunlight to stream in, casting warm patterns of light and shadow across the office.
In the corner of the room, an impressive brass-framed glass cabinet showcased an assortment of meticulously crafted steampunk artifacts, each piece a testament to the fusion of art and engineering. Whether it was a functional device or a purely decorative creation, the artifacts exuded an air of intricate elegance.
"Hm… So, you weren't arrested," Glover spun his chair around, revealing his naked upper torso which was patched to the brim with all kinds of bandages, stitches, and ointments. It was truly a horrible attack that caused this injury due to its ability to rip and burn through the skin. "Now sit down. I'm sure you'll be interested in what I have to say."
The floor sitting right in front of the desk opened up, revealing a simple wooden stool which Silas quickly sat upon. He wiggled around, trying to find a comfortable position, only to quickly give up as it was way too rough on his bottom.
"I'll get right to the point. Wanna go back to school?" Glover leaned in, folding his hands across his desk. "You're, what… Twelve? Thirteen? A kid like you should be enjoyin' his school life. Not rotting away in the trenches of society."
"I… still don't remember my age."
For the foreseeable future, Silas was going to keep this amnesia act. And well, by the time he somehow gets busted, he has a few excuses in mind. He just wasn't planning or hoping to use them anytime soon.
"I'll have an analysis of your body's age in a couple hours from Emily. In the meantime, give my offer consideration, and then we can discuss what material you'll be coverin' in that grade of yours."
"So, you gonna create a fake identity for me?"
"Yeah, but I'll be pickin' your stats. Need to make you as normal as possible."
"Emily told me that you'll be giving me a new gig that could potentially get me a magic pathway. Was that all a lie to get me to come back quick or are you for real?"
"If you go to the school, there is a chance you can find a glyphstone… eh, steal it. I got a couple people in that stupid academy that have been informing me on the auto pathway in there," Glover explained before seeing Silas' confused face. "*sigh*... You automatically get a magic glyphstone of your choosing if you make it to the tier one class. From what I dug up, you were a tier two. So close to tier one, but not quite there."
"So what does that have to do with me stealing one? Can't I just study my ass of and get one?"
"Theoretically yes… but…" Glover's face unveiled that same eerie smile as when he fought Sheek. "Isn't it more fun if you pick candy from a baby?"
"Huh?"
"All grades have a tier one. The academy starts with kindergarten to twelfth grade. Just steal a glyphstone from one of the kindergarteners and as long as their parents aren't too influential, I can handle the backlash." Glover noticed Silas' meek expression. "What? Don't tell me you're backin' out because of that."
"Huh? Oh, no, I don't give a shit about the kid…" Glover's smile widened. "It's just if I get caught in the school by some of the higher-ups, they're bound to kill me on the spot. I got kicked out in a brutal way and I doubt they've forgiven me by now."
"Of course! If those old dickwads forgave you, they wouldn't be the ruling masters of that prison. Don't worry, what I have in mind will make you unrecognizable. And you'll have a job! Makin' some money, new school life… what could be better!?" Glover exclaimed, but that eerie smile told Silas something else was up.
"Fine, I'll think about it. I'll give you a call once I've made my decision. I'm gonna train a bit with the guys here and then hit up some more libraries."
"Havin' fun recollecting this shitty world?"
"Yeah… just a bit."