It was a strange place. And it was pretty empty for a strange place. That was probably what made it so strange.
Aedhira stood at a ledge where the corridor ended, and peered forward.
Gone was a the inky darkness that squirmed and reached every time he put a foot down. Gone was incessant prodding that made him falter bit by bit. Instead he was a vast nothing. Well, as close as that could come.
It appeared to be a ruinously large room. Big enough that he could barely make out the ceiling without focusing his sight. The same went for the floor. Though, to his utmost pleasure, both were sufficiently illuminated, unlike the ALSO RUINOUSLY long corridor he'd been walking in for so long.
The shape of the room could be likened to an extremely large cube.
'6 sides, 6 faces. Seems about right' he thought.
'Argos? Any suggestions?'
[....]
'....'
Aedhira's helpful AID had gone silent about ten minutes before he'd come to the end of the corridor. Normally periods of silence wouldn't be such a problem as Aedhira preferred his share of silence every now and then....but this wasn't the time for silence.
'It's annoying how little I know about my situation....maybe I've grown to dependent on Argos' he thought.
'Nothing for it I guess, but to explore and see what I can find. Worst case scenario, I'm eviscerated by forces beyond my pay-grade' he thought before his thrusters flared. He coiled his legs before leaping off the ledge
He momentarily gained altitude before barreling downwards.
Oh boy.
Aedhira's heart—or whatever passed for one in his constructed form—lurched as he plummeted downwards. The sensation of freefall was unnervingly familiar yet alien without Argos's calming presence in his mind. His thrusters, unsteady from his momentary panic, flared haphazardly, sending him into a dizzying spiral. Arms flailed, legs kicked, and for a fleeting second, he was nothing more than a pinball bouncing off the invisible walls of his descent.
The dimly lit floor rushed up to meet him far faster than he liked. His HUD screamed warnings, flashing red alerts as he desperately attempted to stabilize. With a grunt of effort, he finally managed to engage his thrusters properly, slowing his descent just enough to avoid turning himself into a smear on the floor. Instead of a graceful landing, however, Aedhira hit the ground with an undignified thud, skidding across the smooth surface before coming to a clumsy stop.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the barely visible ceiling far above, catching his breath—or at least simulating the act. Then, in the vast silence of the cavernous room, a laugh bubbled up from his chest. It started as a small chuckle, but soon grew into a full-bodied, uncontrollable laugh that echoed through the empty space. The absurdity of it all—the endless corridor, Argos's sudden silence, and his own near-disastrous landing—was just too much. For a brief moment, it felt good to let go, to laugh at the situation instead of brooding over it.
When his laughter finally subsided, Aedhira lay still, staring into the vastness above him. The room was enormous, larger than anything he had encountered in this strange underground complex. Even with the ambient lighting, the ceiling seemed impossibly high, easily 150 meters above him. The room's sheer size was awe-inspiring, but also slightly unnerving. It was hard not to feel small and insignificant in a place like this, where even his Arstra armor seemed inadequate.
After a few more moments of lying there, Aedhira sighed and pulled himself to his feet, brushing off the imaginary dust from his armor. The thrum of his thrusters hummed softly as he righted himself, shaking off the last remnants of his earlier panic. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room, the laughter now replaced with a determined focus.
As he scanned the room, his HUD suddenly pinged, drawing his attention to a spot on the floor about fifty meters away. At first glance, it appeared inconspicuous, just another patch of the smooth, dimly lit floor. But Aedhira knew better than to ignore his HUD's warnings.
"Alright then," he muttered to himself, striding towards the marked spot with cautious curiosity. The echo of his footsteps was swallowed by the vastness of the room, making the space feel even more otherworldly. He kept his senses sharp, aware that in a place like this-
Anything could happen.
The thought rolled around in Aedhira's mind like a marble in an empty room, bouncing off the walls of his consciousness. The further he walked, the more the vastness of the room seemed to swallow him whole. It was as though the silence had a presence of its own, thickening the air, pressing down on him from all sides. His thrusters, usually a comforting hum in the background, now felt almost intrusive in the oppressive quiet.
When he finally reached the marked spot, Aedhira paused, looking down at the smooth, unblemished floor. His HUD continued to pulse insistently, highlighting a circular area directly in front of him. But there was nothing there—no obvious mechanism, no trapdoor, no indication that this spot was different from the rest of the floor.
He crouched down, peering closely at the marked area, hoping to find some clue that would explain why his HUD had flagged it. The seconds ticked by, each one a little louder than the last, until finally, something shifted. It was subtle, a faint shimmer of light that danced across the surface of the floor, forming the faint outline of a handprint.
Aedhira blinked in surprise, leaning in closer. The handprint was almost ghostly, barely visible even with his enhanced vision. It was as though the floor itself had remembered the touch of someone long gone, leaving behind this spectral impression.
"Well, that's…something," he muttered, tilting his head. "But what am I supposed to do with it?"
He raised his right hand, hesitating for a moment as he considered his options. The handprint was clearly a clue, but what kind? Was it asking for a specific type of input, or was it just a relic of the past, a piece of ancient technology that had long since lost its purpose? He frowned, debating whether he should touch it or leave it alone.
"Ah, screw it," Aedhira finally decided, lowering himself to one knee. He placed his palm against the handprint, matching its shape as closely as he could. The floor was cool to the touch, and for a brief moment, he felt a faint tingle in his fingers.
But then…nothing. No sound, no movement, no hidden door sliding open. Just silence.
Aedhira sighed, sitting back on his haunches. "Well, that's anticlimactic."
He stood up and paced in a small circle, thinking through his next steps. Maybe there was some kind of sequence he needed to follow, or a specific amount of pressure required. Maybe it wasn't about his hand at all. He could try using more force, but that seemed like a risky proposition given how little he understood about this place.
"Alright, time to get creative," he muttered.
He dropped back down to the floor and tried pressing his hand against the print again, this time with more force. When that didn't work, he tried slapping it. Then punching it. Then punching it harder. When that still didn't produce any results, Aedhira sat on it, hoping his weight might trigger something. Nothing.
"Come on, work with me here," he grumbled, jumping up and down on the spot, each landing accompanied by a dull thud.
When even that failed, Aedhira sat back down with a huff, glaring at the floor as though it had personally insulted him. The handprint remained stubbornly unresponsive, as if mocking his increasingly desperate attempts to activate it.
For the next ten minutes, Aedhira cycled through a variety of increasingly absurd methods to trigger whatever mechanism might be hidden within the floor. He tried shouting at it, reasoning that some ancient voice-activated system might be in play. He tried tracing the outline of the handprint with his finger, hoping it would recognize the gesture. At one point, he even tried playing a game of patty-cake with it, just to see if a bit of whimsy would coax a response.
"Why am I like this?" Aedhira muttered, finally slumping against the cold floor in defeat.
He stared at the handprint, his mind racing for another idea. That's when it hit him—a sudden, unexpected spark of inspiration.
"I've had a brainwave," he declared, sitting up straight.
Aedhira knelt next to the handprint once more, but this time, he didn't just place his hand on it. He closed his eyes, shutting out the physical world and turning his focus inward. He envisioned his heart space—a strange, pulsing, spherical object that floated in the void within him. It wasn't like a normal heart, but it functioned similarly, expanding and contracting rhythmically, sending out waves of ether that bled through the bandage-chain-like constraints wrapped around it.
The heart's pulse was steady, powerful, radiating a soft, ethereal light that bathed everything around it in a faint glow. Surrounding it were the runes, each one glowing with its own unique energy. They were intricate, ancient symbols etched into the very fabric of his being, their meanings and purposes known only to him.
But Aedhira wasn't interested in the runes right now. His focus was entirely on his ether heart, the source of his power. He concentrated on drawing out a single, delicate strand of ether, carefully guiding it through his body. He felt it pulse through his veins, moving from his heart to his arm, then down into his hand.
With a deep breath, Aedhira let the ether flow from his palm into the floor, pushing it gently into the handprint. The moment the ether made contact, the air around him seemed to change. The floor beneath his hand grew warmer, and the handprint began to glow, a soft, blue light spreading out from where his palm touched the ground.
The room, once eerily silent, now thrummed with a faint, resonant hum. Aedhira kept his eyes closed, focusing on maintaining the flow of ether. It was delicate work, requiring a level of control and precision that would have been impossible for anyone without his specific set of skills. He could feel the handprint reacting to his ether, absorbing it, feeding on it like a plant drawing in sunlight.
Slowly, the light from the handprint intensified, growing brighter and more vibrant with each passing second. Aedhira's pulse quickened as he felt the ether reach a critical point, the energy within him converging with whatever ancient mechanism lay beneath the floor.
And then, with a final push of energy, something clicked. The floor beneath him rumbled softly, a deep, resonant vibration that spread through the entire room. Aedhira opened his eyes just in time to see the handprint disappear, sinking into the floor as if it had never existed. In its place, the smooth surface of the floor began to shift and move, revealing a hidden panel that slid open with a soft, mechanical hiss.
"Well, that took long enough," Aedhira said with a grin, the thrill of success tingling in his veins.
He felt a surge of satisfaction, as if the pulse of energy that had flowed from his ether heart had unlocked something crucial—something hidden and ancient within this vast, eerie chamber. Yet the momentary triumph was cut short by the unexpected display that now illuminated the panel before him.
The panel lit up, casting a warm, golden hue across the surrounding floor. Symbols and words began to scroll rapidly across the surface, none of which Aedhira recognized. The characters were foreign, an elegant script that seemed to dance and shift with a rhythm all their own. For a moment, he simply stared, trying to make sense of the alien language that filled the screen. But just as suddenly as they had appeared, the symbols stopped, settling on a single phrase.
"Welcome back."
Aedhira blinked, his grin faltering as confusion took hold. "I'm back?" he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could fully process them. Back? What did that even mean? He'd never been here before. Not that he remembered, at least.
A sharp, metallic voice broke the silence, reverberating through the chamber. "Voice authentication complete. Welcome back, Sire Astiron."
Aedhira froze. The voice, cold and precise, echoed in his mind, repeating a name he had only ever heard in passing, whispered by Argos. Astiron. The man who had created him. The man whose name had always lingered at the edges of his memory, just out of reach. Now, the voice spoke it with such certainty, such familiarity, that it sent a shiver down his spine.
The chamber began to tremble, a low rumble reverberating through the floor beneath him. Aedhira's eyes widened as the room seemed to shift subtly, as if unseen mechanisms were coming to life behind the walls. The lights grew brighter, forcing him to shield his eyes as the brilliance became blinding. He winced, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as the light dimmed back down to a bearable level.
When his vision finally cleared, Aedhira's breath caught in his throat. The wall before him was illuminated in a way that made it seem almost alive, pulsating softly with an ethereal glow. But it wasn't the light that had him rooted to the spot—it was the image that had formed upon it.
A massive silhouette stretched across the wall, the side profile of a dragon's snout, its head arching upwards toward the ceiling. The dragon's eye glowed with a dim, ominous light, and its long, curved horn reached towards the heavens. The sheer size of the creature's silhouette dwarfed everything else in the room, spanning from the very bottom of the wall to the top, as if it were some ancient guardian, slumbering in the depths.
Aedhira's mind reeled. The image was overwhelming, a flood of emotions crashing into him with the force of a tidal wave. He felt small—insignificant—like a mere insect before a behemoth. The weight of it pressed down on him, crushing his spirit as he tried to comprehend the enormity of the creature depicted before him. It was as if the dragon's gaze bore into his very soul, exposing every fear, every doubt, every insecurity he had ever harbored.
He felt wrong. Everything about this place felt wrong. His existence felt wrong. Why was he here? What was he? Who was Astiron, truly? Why did he, Aedhira, feel like nothing more than a shadow of something far greater, something that would never be within his grasp? The thoughts spiraled out of control, feeding into each other, growing darker and more oppressive with each passing second.
His breathing grew ragged, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar sensation—a panic that clawed at him from within. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the dragon's silhouette, the monstrous figure that loomed above him like a specter of his deepest fears. It was as if the walls were closing in, the room shrinking around him, suffocating him under the weight of his own inadequacies.
Aedhira's legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, his hands gripping his head as he tried to steady his breathing. But the panic only intensified, his thoughts becoming a tangled mess of confusion and terror. He felt like he was drowning, sinking deeper into the abyss of his own mind, unable to find a way out.
"Calm down, kid," a voice called out from behind him, soft but firm, cutting through the chaos like a knife.
Aedhira's breath hitched, the voice pulling him out of his spiral just enough for him to focus on something other than the overwhelming dread. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide and unfocused, searching for the source of the voice. But the room was empty, save for the shadows that flickered at the edges of his vision.
Yet the voice had been so clear, so real. And it had carried with it a strange sense of familiarity, like a distant memory trying to resurface. It was enough to anchor him, to stop the downward spiral of his thoughts.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to calm down. The dragon's silhouette still loomed before him, but its presence felt less oppressive now, more like a lingering echo than a crushing weight. Aedhira slowly stood, his legs unsteady but holding firm, and turned to face the wall once more.
"Who… who's there?" he called out, his voice trembling slightly despite his efforts to keep it steady.
But there was no response, only the silence of the vast chamber, broken occasionally by the faint hum of hidden machinery. The dragon's eye seemed to glow a little brighter, as if in acknowledgment, but Aedhira couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him.
He clenched his fists, steadying himself. Whoever—or whatever—had spoken, it had kept him from losing himself completely. And for that, he was grateful, even if he didn't fully understand what had just happened.