Responsible for overseeing the entirety of this underground city, the medical zone was an extensive facility. It ranked second in size only to the residential area in Solis.
The facilities were varied, designed to meet the station's needs. There were emergency spaces, rest areas, operating rooms, recovery units, and a plethora of other rooms and spaces for various uses.
Amanise was in charge.
During the urgent construction of the station a few years earlier, a series of events had prevented the originally assigned medical team from boarding. The only one who managed to make it in time was Shiva.
Over time, thanks to the expertise Amanise displayed, she was unanimously approved by the council to lead the medical zone.
Her situation was somewhat similar to Adonis's, though with notable differences.
One of the key reasons for Amanise's rise to this position was her understanding of the Depths Flu.
This was an affliction that emerged with the rise of underground cities.
Some saw it as nature's countermeasure, opposing those who believed they had found a way to prolong survival by escaping the surface.
This illness inevitably gained ground and lethality as time spent underground extended beyond certain thresholds.
Returning to the surface was essential.
"For everything given to you, something of equal value will be asked in return."
Amanise mulled over this phrase as she walked down the corridor.
She responded to the greetings addressed to her along the way, though it was more an unconscious reflex than a genuine desire to interact with anyone.
She was on her way to visit a patient who had recently been admitted.
According to the report she had reviewed earlier, the number of patients exhibiting symptoms of the flu had seen a noticeable increase.
She hadn't been away long enough to miss such developments, yet the spike was alarming.
She entered a building with architecture atypical of the others. The entire space was sealed, its walls forming barriers that made visibility from the outside almost nonexistent.
Outside stood a type of guard, who let the newcomer in with a smile, no questions asked.
From that point on, Amanise encountered fewer and fewer people.
Along the hallway, there were only closed doors or openings leading to other corridors.
"My little Marie, where are you going? Come back here; it's dangerous outside."
"Where have you gone? It's still daylight outside; you might get burned!"
"Marie... Marie..."
A man dressed in dull white walked down the hallway—or rather, wandered. His eyes showed a mixture of sadness and worry.
He was looking for someone.
His gaze was lowered, scanning his surroundings as he took one slow step after another.
"Marie, come back… why won't you answer me?" Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was on the verge of collapsing.
"Father, I'm here." He heard a voice resonate in his ears. It was soft and warm, slightly timid but deeply endearing.
He felt a tiny, trembling hand take his, holding it with a subtle grip.
He lifted his eyes toward the voice, and a smile spread across his face. His expression softened into calm and serenity.
A sense of joy and tenderness filled his voice as he took a deep breath, "You're here, Marie. Don't let go of my hand; this place is very dangerous."
As he spoke these words, he painfully rose to his feet.
But after a moment, there was no response.
In the blink of an eye, the little girl holding his hand began to disintegrate.
His expression shifted again.
Despair and horror filled his vision.
The little girl in his sight quickly transformed into a decomposing figure—rotting, her flesh falling away, her bones becoming exposed and then decaying too.
In moments, she turned to dust.
'She' had not uttered a single scream.
The man fell to his knees as tears streamed down his neck, soaking his collar.
His breathing grew increasingly labored, each attempt piercing the air with a sharp sound.
His skin burned with fever.
After a while, he collapsed again to the floor.
Amanise observed the scene and asked someone nearby, "Why isn't he on oxygen? Who allowed him to leave his bed, let alone his room?"
The young woman she addressed blushed deeply, bowing her head as her long black hair fell against her neck. "I'm sorry, ma'am. He said he felt better and wanted to take a short walk."
"My apologies, doctor," the young woman added, tears almost forming in her eyes. "I'll take him back to his bed immediately."
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Amanise retorted, looking down at the young woman. She wore a mask and protective gown covering her entire body.
She observed the man on the ground for a moment before turning around.
"Call an assistant to help you transport him to the room at the end of the hall. He's now experiencing hallucinations. We can no longer treat him as we did before."
She continued walking down the corridor until she reached a room at its far end.
"Oh, Shiva, so this is where you've been hiding?!" Amanise opened the door and found him standing at the entrance, engaged in conversation with one of the officers stationed there.
Shiva turned toward Amanise, and after casting her an inquisitive glance, he chose to feign ignorance of her remark.
The room was fairly spacious. It contained more than twenty individual beds, most of which were occupied by people exhibiting similar symptoms.
At this point, Amanise could hear the still-conscious occupants recounting all sorts of stories. Despite being in close proximity, each seemed lost in their own world.
Hallucinations.
The Depths' Flu manifested in various ways. The era didn't allow for a rigorous study of the illness, but it had been reported that it mutated slightly depending on the region and city of origin.
That said, one universally recognized symptom was hallucinations, which struck individuals at advanced stages of infection.
Once this stage was reached, survival chances plummeted significantly.
This room was seen by most as a sort of purgatory, a graveyard for the unfortunate. Those brought here typically awaited nothing but the end of their suffering.
In a world where regret was the driving force for everyone, this flu offered its victims a brief respite, making them dream of reunions with those they cherished most.
Amanise finished putting on her protective gear and moved to a corner of the room where she gathered the workers present.
"All of you here have shown remarkable resolve during this crisis by refusing to abandon these people to their fate.
"I want to personally thank each of you for your efforts. I'm truly proud of the work accomplished so far. You're all aware of the challenges this tower faces in certain areas.
"However, I will ensure that the council is informed of your actions. You'll receive additional rations and better living conditions in Solis.
"Stay confident; we will overcome these obstacles. Now, back to work!"
Applause filled the room as she concluded her speech. One might have thought there were no patients in such a place.
Each person returned to their tasks with a smile. Whatever their personal motivations for committing themselves to such a place, the promised benefits were always worth celebrating.
Animals fight for food; humans fight for advantages.
"Shiva, the rations still haven't arrived?" she asked, turning to the man at her right.
He was of average height, which allowed Amanise to almost look down at him—a fact she occasionally exploited. His rounded face was smooth and delicate, giving him the appearance of an old-world scholar.
He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as if to steady them. "I was just informed they've arrived. Lately, they've been increasingly delayed."
"We'll deal with that later. For now, follow me. There are tests I plan to run. Bring two assistants with you to the 'Cultures' building."
She exited the room, followed by her second-in-command.
In this environment devoid of natural light, the atmosphere seemed somewhat oppressive. The space was illuminated by phosphorescent materials.
Shadows shifted in rhythm with the passersby, creating an almost eerie spectacle for anyone paying close attention.
Yet, the inhabitants here were used to it.
Things were only marginally different in Solis and Gemis, which were designated for habitation. Though it remained impossible to bring daylight into these spaces, considerable efforts were made in that direction.
The results were tangible and widely appreciated.
But beneath these two levels, priorities were entirely different, as were the associated efforts.
Generally, this area exuded a form of unease.
It was even questionable whether those who had lived here for so long could still tolerate daylight in any capacity.
Even Amanise had struggled initially during her explorations. In fact, upon each return, she made a point to transition through one of the upper two levels—a sort of rite from light to darkness.
The importance of daylight and its radiance could not be understated.
The sun might have forsaken humanity, but humanity could not do without 'him.'
"I think I'll need the power of the incinerator to reforge Mjolnir; it's really starting to show signs of wear," Raphael mused as he examined his hammer. The warehouse was as noisy as ever.
He had recently received a call from Adonis, who relayed the events that had occurred in Solis after being sent there.
He was somewhat surprised.
"What is this implausible chain of events? Even after so many years in this place, deaths of this nature have been exceedingly rare."
His brows furrowed deeply.
In fact, he was greatly perplexed by it all.
Something about the narrative seemed illogical. Events had unfolded a bit too quickly, with an ending far too strange to ignore.
Nevertheless, he kept it all in the back of his mind, deciding not to delve deeper than necessary.
Even in a confined space like this underground city, there were areas best left unexplored and secrets better left veiled.
As long as it caused no harm to him or his sister, he had no interest in concerning himself with yet another unsolvable mystery.
Not only was it against his nature to act otherwise, but more importantly, he didn't have the time to spread himself thin.
The essential information he needed was provided to him.
"This kid didn't lie to me after all. I'll have to remember to reward him when the time comes... though, it's more like repaying a debt. So really, I owe him nothing," he thought.
A conspiratorial smile briefly crossed his face before vanishing just as quickly.
"Also, I must admit that Adonis proved himself to be quite effective in this task…" At this thought, his expression hardened, and it seemed as though he aged ten years in an instant. He didn't particularly like the man.
The next moment, he returned to his work, and the peculiar melody of his hammer striking repeatedly echoed once more.
Haaa!!!
Sweat dripped from Adonis's body as he woke up with a start once again.
This time, there was no one around when he regained consciousness.
Amanise was busy with her duties, and the same went for Raphael.
Adonis was alone in this residence while the others were on different floors.
In moments like these, Adonis usually felt a bit lonely, left alone with his thoughts and the void in his memory.
But this time was different.
Earlier that day, due to a peculiar incident, Adonis had experienced an ephemeral yet intense glimpse of a fragment of his memory.
The experience had been unpleasant enough to create a new anchor point within him.
He realized there was a very good reason for his memory loss.
The past locked away might not be a past he was meant to revisit.
Sitting on his bed after rinsing off his body, every neuron in his mind was focused on deciphering the vision he'd experienced earlier.
"At some point, I was a prisoner of someone I might have eventually killed...
"If I recall correctly, the image of myself wasn't too different from my current appearance. So, it might not have happened very long ago...
"Maybe a few years back, or even less..."
The young man sat cross-legged on the bed, his hands resting limply on his knees.
His eyes were slightly open, his emerald pupils barely piercing the darkness of the room.
Meditation.
Adonis couldn't remember where he had learned such a practice, as he hadn't seen it anywhere since his awakening.
Yet, it felt like the ideal state to confront the chaos in his mind at that moment.
"All of this seems incredibly dangerous... should I really pursue such a quest? Life isn't so bad here, after all..."
He wasn't one to shy away from challenges. His life outside had shown him the extent of his endurance and resilience in the face of danger.
He knew he was brave enough.
But strangling someone and chaining them didn't align with the kind of past he hoped to uncover.
It was now a matter of common sense.
Was it worth pursuing a path that might lead to an even harsher fate?
Yet his dreams were ever-present, just as vivid and impactful on his mental state.
Earlier, he hadn't awakened because of his rediscovered memory but due to a dream that had abruptly pulled him from slumber.
Was there truly a choice to be made?
"There's no point in rushing. I still have some time to untangle all of this...
"Come to think of it, I might be able to find a clue or two in this memory fragment."
Thinking this, he closed his eyes once more, attempting to dive into his subconscious, his memory space, in search of this recent recollection.
Again, it was an action that came naturally to him, despite his lack of understanding of its fundamental principles.
The task proved relatively simple; after all, there wasn't much memory to explore.
In his mind, a world appeared—not one of floating islands or tides. Instead, he found himself in a cell, a dark place where light barely filtered in.
His breathing was erratic and shallow, his hands bound.
His left and right wrists were shackled together with heavy, noisy metal. Every movement he made produced a grating sound as the chains rubbed.
Adonis's mind became chaotic again, like a frightened child facing a fearsome adversary. His breathing grew labored, and the bed on which he sat cross-legged became damp from his profuse sweating.
Despite this, he persisted in his exploration.
In this dreamlike world, he saw himself again, the details of his appearance no different from the last time.
His eyes lowered to his hands as he watched a piece of metal detach from his arm and connect to another set.
In his vision, he saw an individual in even worse shape than himself, sobbing quietly.
This person had one hand bound, while the other seemed to be missing, replaced by an unsettling void.
The scenery in his mind trembled violently.
A frail voice echoed, "In the end... it was nothing... but a lie... this so-called 'land without light' was just... a trap... I want to go home... sniff..."
The voice reverberated in Adonis's mind as the scene gradually faded away.
He slowly returned to consciousness, slightly trembling and drenched in sweat.
After rinsing his face, he poured himself a glass of water.
The 'Land of no Light.'
"I have no idea what that might refer to..."
The string of events and circumstances unfolding around him pushed Adonis to display talents, abilities, and insights far beyond his current understanding of the world.
Intrinsically, he didn't know much about the world or his environment, save for what he had observed recently and what the siblings had told him.
Now, he had a clue.
He still didn't know what to do with it or the context in which to place it.
But he knew it was connected to his forgotten past.
It was a starting point, and he intended to make use of it when the time was right.
As for deciding on the course of action regarding his past and his identity, he remained troubled and somewhat apprehensive. Yet, he maintained a certain level of confidence.
Why give up before even starting?
For some reason, he knew such a choice wasn't part of his true nature.
No matter how he chose to reinvent himself or distance himself from his past, certain aspects of his very essence seemed immutable.
"Anyway… I need to get back to my exercises."
With that, Adonis headed to an adjacent room equipped with what appeared to be physical exercise equipment.
Amanise had set it up some time ago during earlier explorations to help him recover some of his abilities.
Adonis grabbed a braided rope hanging on the wall and began jumping, his feet lifting off the ground and returning to it in a rhythmic motion. The tempo was clear and steady.
The rope traveled over his head and under the soles of his feet without ever touching him.
The contact with the ground was crisp and vigorous.
It didn't take long before sweat started pouring from him once again.