With a deep, resonating rumble, the large, ornate door groaned open, its massive stone frame creaking in protest after what must have been countless years of neglect.
A blinding shaft of light from the gas lamp in Cillian's hand pierced the suffocating blackness, the first light to enter this forsaken room in an eternity.
The air inside was stale, carrying the scent of dust, mildew and mold.
Beyond the threshold stood two shadows, both tense, as though the darkness itself was watching them.
"Be careful"
Cillian warned, His eyes flicked to the corners of the room as his grip tightened on the lamp. With careful, measured steps, he and kururin ventured forward, the flickering flame illuminating the expanse of the chamber.
The room they had entered was larger than they'd anticipated, vast, echoing, and long forgotten. The walls stretched out before them, covered in strange, intricate carvings that flickered in and out of focus as the gaslight swayed.
They were in some kind of underground ritual room, a place where rites had been performed long ago, before the world above had forgotten it.
At the far end of the room, an altar lay buried beneath a mountain of rubble. It was in ruins, but even in its decay, its importance was evident.
Scattered stones, shattered pillars, and broken relics told a grim story.
kururin's eyes scanned the walls, drawn to the carvings that adorned them like a forgotten history. Her gaze lingered on the left side first, where an elaborate scene unfolded. It depicted a kingdom in its prime, a prosperous civilization, thriving with grand traditions and culture.
The carving was meticulous, the artistry exquisite. Then, as the images progressed toward the altar, the story took a darker turn. The kingdom began to burn. Gigantic, monstrous figures rampaged through the streets, destroying everything in their path.
The walls that had once been strong, steadfast, now crumbled under the weight of destruction. The kingdom, once vibrant and full of life, was now in ruins.
And then, as the devastation reached its zenith, a child, small and fragile in comparison to the titanic destruction around them, picked up a crown from the debris.
The scene abruptly ended, the final details buried beneath the rubble of the ruined altar.
kururin frowned, pondering the meaning of the image. She moved to the right wall, where another series of carvings depicted a lone figure, a man, crowned and regal.
In his hand, he held what appeared to be a peculiar sword, a weapon forged from a twisted branch, its shape more like a grotesque stick than a blade.
Behind him, three armies stood at attention, their banners displayed with pride, each bearing a different symbol, different colors.
Above the man's head, another banner depicted a giant tree, its roots twisting like serpents, the branches spreading wide like a protective canopy.
As the story continued, the man and his armies charged into battle, the war against the monstrous giants that had ravaged the kingdom. With each swing of his strange sword, another giant fell.
The carvings detailed valiant, desperate combat, a final, bloody stand against the towering invaders.
But just as the battle reached its climax, the carvings abruptly cut off, the final image lost beneath the rubble of the destroyed altar.
kururin's fingers traced the edges of the worn carvings, her curiosity growing. The story was incomplete, fragmented by time, but there was so much hidden within these ancient walls.
She had just started to pull her thoughts together when an alert flashed across her vision. Her heart skipped a beat.
------
Notice:
A piece of lost history was uncovered!
Documenting and the murals and turning over any artifacts found in the any church, government office or certain organizations may yield great rewards!
Notice:
Pre-requisite completed! The class, Archeologist and the class Historian has been unlocked! You may now equip the newly acquired class!
------
Equipping the newly unlocked Archeologist and Historian class, kururin was ecstatic, she didnt know that the story the man told her in the entrance was a piece of forgotten history.
The fact that the game considers this as a forgotten history further proved that the person controlling the puppet was a greater being
She figured that since the puppet knows ancient history, it must have existed for thousands of years. Grinning happily she once again resolved herself to follow the man as a believer.
Cillian, however, was in a very different state of mind. His hands trembled slightly as he surveyed the room, his eyes darting nervously around the space, knowing what was coming.
He had watched the livestream before, and he knew this room wasn't empty. There was supposed to be something here, something monstrous. His gut churned with unease. The monster, the abomination, it had to be close. It wasn't just going to let them leave.
But where was it?
They had nearly reached the altar, and still, there was no sign. The hairs on the back of Cillian's neck stood on end.
He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched and studied. The monster was here, and it was waiting.
Suddenly, his eyes caught something amidst the rubble. A hand. Protruding from the debris, half-buried but unmistakably a hand. It was sculpted from stone, part of a statue—most likely of a god.
But which one? He couldn't say. The hand was outstretched, as though reaching for something just beyond its grasp before the rubble had come crashing down.
Cillian's throat went dry.
Wait... reaching up?
A realization dawned on Cillian and he instinctively looked up, what he saw terrified him to the core.
He froze for a second and collected himself, at the same time the harrowing creature moved, it noticed Cillian's gaze!
"Watch out!"
Crash!
Cillian's voice barely had time to register before he lunged to grab kururin, pulling her out of the path of the falling abomination just as it crashed to the floor with a deafening sound that shook the very stones beneath their feet.
The force of the impact kicked up a cloud of dust and debris, blurring everything in sight.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
kururin gasped, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Don't ask, make distance!"
Cillian snapped, the urgency clear in his voice.
The dust swirled around them, thick and choking, but kururin, already on edge, instinctively raised her revolver and aimed into the cloud of dust.
The faintest noise, a shifting, a dragging sound, sent her senses into overdrive. She didn't know what the creature was, but she could feel it, lurking somewhere just beyond the veil of dust.
"What are you waiting for? Shoot!"
kururin didn't hesitate. She squeezed the trigger multiple times in quick succession. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Clank! Clank!
Each shot echoed through the room, the sound of bullets punching into whatever lay hidden in the dust. The noise reverberated off the walls, but with each shot, the sound grew duller, as if the bullets were striking something far larger than anything she could have imagined.
And then the clank, the sound of the trigger hitting nothing rang out, a heavy, jarring noise that made kururin's blood run cold. The cylinder was now empty.
Looking back she saw Cillian holding his cane, he seems to be etching some sort of runic language on the ground.
"Don't look back, reload the gun and shoot it again, avoid it at all cost!"
kururin barely registered his words, her fingers trembling as she reloaded the revolver, her mind racing to keep up with the chaos unfolding around them.
The dust began to settle slowly, swirling in the faint glow of the gaslight. And through the haze, kururin saw it and she felt her blood drain.