I think that calling it a âdead bodyâ might be overselling it a bit. It was certainly dead, and had probably been a body at some point, but like the one in the hallway it was more just a bundle of rags stuffed with bones. Some fragments of parchment-like skin flaked off here and there, adding a sad crunching noise.
I would probably have thought about whoever that was for longer, but the room was a bit distracting. The walls housed more of those tanks from below, glowing faintly with mysterious, wispy Advance Force. Pipes flowed from each one, quickly disappearing into different holes in the walls or floor and turning the whole room into a tripping hazard. Small plaques were fixed in front of each tank, listing different rooms or systems. Armoured-Gnome Catapult Igniter and Kitchen (it was nice to know that not everything here was complicated and weird) were a couple that I spotted.
Copper wires as thick as ropes dangled from the ceiling, all connecting to a single pedestal standing dead-centre. Unlike literally everything else, it was made of stone â a robust but unimpressive square granite column, which narrowed into a brass-capped point. Balanced on top, against most laws of probability, was a spherical mesh of gold wire, which in turn cradled another, far more impressive rock. The biggest diamond Iâd ever seen (and I was certain it was a diamond) was nested inside, suspended by wires. In the shifting light given off by the tanks, it had this rippling, ethereal quality which ebbed and flowed like a cup of water untethered from the ocean.
I use the word âcupâ because thatâs how big this fucker was. A small cup maybe, but I doubted Iâd be able to close a hand around it. Beneath my gloves, my stealing fingers started to itch.
I mean, uhhhhh⦠not that? Look, I wasnât actually going to steal it, alright? Iâm probably not beating the âarchaeologists = grave-robbersâ allegations here, but I donât think you understand how big this diamond was (also, shiny things are made to be looked at, not buried underground forever). Forget a kingâs ransom, you could probably buy a god for a diamond that size. Luckily, I was able to restrain my pilfering urges through ironclad self-control, and a functioning sense of self-preservation. This rock was hooked up at the centre of a room which apparently managed whatever unfathomable amount of power it took to make this whole place operate, and I was in no hurry to find out what would happen if I touched it.
Besides, all the other bodies scattered around the room were dampening my enthusiasm a bit.
More of these collapsed bundles of cloth and bone lay scattered about the room, some better-preserved than others, but only to the extent that a translucent layer of skin still clung to them. A couple of faces were dried into ghoulish death masks, all sunken cheeks and open mouths and empty, hollow eyes. Mummified without dignity, quietly rotting for centuries. Yuck.
I realised that everyone else had politely queued up behind me whilst I was ogling the room in silence. Presumably they were waiting for some kind of assessment. I made a gesture for âwait hereâ and quickly slipped inside, shutting the door behind me. There was a diamond in here that could best be described as âsexyâ, and I just wanted to have some time to ponder it undisturbed.
Iâll try not to do the full âoglingâ description, but it was still a curious thing. Even discounting the fucking huge diamond, the gold net it was held up in was both fascinating and really valuable. Since this room had a name that wasnât Treasure Vault, but did have these huge wires that I had to duck underneath as I got to the middle, I was guessing that both of these pieces were critical to the running of the machine. In turn, that made me wonder about the security. The door to get in here hadnât even been locked. My eyes roamed over the bodies again. Interestingly, they were all lined up against the walls, 5 in total. Since everything that held them up was long-gone, I couldnât tell what positions they had been in, but I guessed theyâd just been sitting there when they died.
I didnât want to think about what had killed them, or why theyâd ended up dead in here. Iâm a firm believer in the link between mindset and outcome, so it seemed that working out how they died would just lead to me dying as well. That led me back to the diamond, which was much more fun to think about. Inside its gold cage-cradle, it threw refracted pools of swirling rainbow, which glinted on each facet. Iâm no jeweller, but Iâd definitely call it a flawless diamond. It was cut into something spherical, but which still had plenty of edges to catch and split the light across.
I leaned as close as I dared for a better look. Faintly, I could hear a buzzing noise, the vibrations of this cage as it transmitted and redistributed energy. From somewhere that felt both above and below my range of hearing, I could make out the very edge of a note. I closed my eyes, searching for it. There. The sound came into focus, like two different tuning forks harmonising. The clarity of the note came with a certain clarity of thought. It chased away uncertainty and self-doubt; reminded me that the whole reason Iâd started climbing was to reach the top, and that there was only one ladder left between me and my purpose.
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My eyes opened. For a moment I was tempted to nod respectfully to the diamond, but I realised that was weird. I headed back to the door and slipped into the corridor, careful not to let the door open more than necessary. I was confronted as soon as I stepped out. âWell?â demanded Eoin.
âWell what?â I asked.
âWhat was in that room? You claimed it was important.â
âTechnically, I claimed to think it was important.â I did my best to look bored. âIâm willing to admit I was wrong.â
âSo what is it then?â
âA bunch of pipes.â He seemed suspicious (fair enough), and the easiest lies to tell are the ones that are true.
âAnd thatâs what kept you so interested, was it? Pipes?â Again I did my best to just look
bored by that room, even if it had been anything but boring. I had a visceral distrust of Eoin and what he would do in there. I doubted heâd hesitate to claim the diamond, either for his kingdom or just to try and shut this down if he figured out what it did. âThere were signs about where they went. It took a while for me to translate them,â I hedged. There were a few seconds of staring while he clearly decided if it was worth pushing me further or just outright calling my bluff. I stood my ground, and he seemed to get as bored as I looked. âFine,â he waved off, âjust donât take so long in future.â
Oh dammit, I thought, am I really still a recruit? I was hoping heâd forgotten about that, but in fairness it had probably only been just over half an hour since heâd made that decision, so I shouldnât have been surprised. It felt like it had been longer than that for some reason (sorry).
âThereâs only one thing left then, isnât there?â I asked, turning to look at the top of the ladder and the closed hatch that ended it. âI heard you all debating climbing a ladder before, so because I donât want to be here for another 65 years until someone invites you up, Iâm just going to go.â I put words into action, and hands onto the ladder. The hatch at the top was again unlocked, which I found curious. The Internal Guardian room was adjacent to the ladder itself, and I assumed those were guards or security of some kind. Were they relying entirely on those in case of incursions? Itâs possible, I suppose.
The hinge of the trapdoor was stiff, but gave way with a scraping screech, followed by an echoing clang as it tipped beyond vertical and slammed back down. Whatâs a bit more ear damage by now, I thought as I clambered up and out.
It was gratifying and unnerving how good my estimate of the control room was. It wasnât too hard to work out the sort of things youâd need in a place like this, but even so⦠Eh, I guess Iâm just that much of a genius. I crested the top of yet another ladder, wondering why geniuses like the Gnomes apparently couldnât have built some sort of magical way of going up and down. Clearly they were bastards.
Up here, the room was bathed in a soft amber light â a product of the titanic lamps that were fixed on the huge âeyesâ of the titan, themselves a pair of massive glass domes set at the front of the room. Either by clever positioning or good use of mirrors, the staggeringly bright lights, which were enough to illuminate an entire battlefield, only spilled enough light back into the command room to brighten it to a level that was comfortable without being blinding.
Most of the circumference of the room had a wooden ledge running around it, attached to the wall â probably a big desk. Large (for Gnomes, anyway) metal plotting tables were spaced evenly around the room and bolted to the floor, forming little islands which held the wreckage of ancient detritus; bits and pieces that were probably important once, but were scrap and splinters now. I drifted between them, stealing cursory glances and absolutely nothing else at all I promise. All of them had a small conical device attached, which were housed in pivoting mounts. Communication tubes, my brain supplied. Made sense.
The centre of the room was raised about a step higher. It had one more of the metal tables on it, but a much more complicated one. It bristled with levers and communication tubes, there were sections divided up for purposes I could only guess at, and there were chairs on 3 sides that were mounted on fixed poles. It seemed you could probably rotate them, once upon a time, but that time was not upon us. I had no idea what the specifics of this desk had been, but it was clearly a hub of great importance.
The side lacking a chair was the one closest to the front of the titan, which made sense, because the space was taken by the throne-like monstrosity I assumed was the captainâs chair. Solid brass and fused to the floor, it was blocky, angular, and commanding. The soft orange light and still-shiny brass combined to give it a golden sheen. An auric aura, radiant and majestic.
Before I got lost in my own head again, I figured I should invite the others up here. That also means I should go over part of the description of this room that Iâve skipped so far: it was a wreck. Any chairs that werenât bolted to the floor were tipped over, and various pieces of whatever had been in here were smashed and scattered about the place. Bits of half-burned parchment lay beside upturned ink bottles, their leaked contents now just black, sooty powder.
And, of course, there were more bodies.
Look, they werenât features of the room, and youâre probably getting bored of me talking about rags and bones. To be fair to these ones, they were actually a little bit more intact, but I didnât really know why. Some were slumped over their plotting tables, others had collapsed off their chairs, and some just sat against the walls, looking for all the world like they had just got bored of living and so⦠died.