"The Fob of the Abundant Maker's Timepiece"
-"Final" Part -
Chapter 41
'Could it be happening again?' Hoku's thoughts churned over the lantern.
His gaze turned to Mars, who stood motionless with his eyes fixed intently on the floor.
Compelled by a similar unease, Hoku examined the surroundings.
At first glance, the grooves still resembled worn channels, no deeper than a finger's width.
However, under the current lighting, a different narrative emerged.
This center groove was not a product of erosion or manual carving.
It bore the hallmarks of precision machining.
Unlike the original two, this channel maintained a uniform depth and width, with a subtly convex base that descended at a specific gradient along the floor's slope.
Tiny bevels lined its inner walls, which had become more evident even beneath layers of dust.
This was a calibrated conduit.
While it might seem logical for saboteurs to have crafted this addition by hand, the reality was more complex.
For the alteration to integrate faultlessly with the existing ritualistic framework, it had to be fashioned using the same method as the original channels.
Any deviation or inconsistency would render the mechanism inert.
Had it been manually carved, the lantern's flame would have remained unaffected.
But it wasn't.
Suspicion crept into Mars' visage the longer he scrutinized it. "Unless… this operates as an independent activation mechanism, entirely detached from the ritual site," he mused.
"Right…why would Lunhard position the key so conspicuously at the center? Given his ability to discern the traits, strengths, and vulnerabilities of those who interact with his stones, he would undoubtedly recognize that a navigator possesses an acute sensitivity to detail and a mind essential for retracing steps when confronted with a dead end."
Mars retreated a few paces, deliberately distancing himself from the symbol etched into the floor.
He inclined his head, scrutinizing the pattern with renewed focus.
"Ah, this is—" His words faltered as his body stiffened, tracing the symbol's configuration.
The central channel extended further than its counterparts, which had already rendered it a conspicuous anomaly.
Moreover, the line aligned precisely with the symbol's orientation, bisecting the center with accuracy.
"Hoku," he called out.
"That fissure you mentioned—it resembled a sealed chasm in the ground. I think this seal was the cause. It must have consumed something else."
'But, how could it have been activated twice? Was it replaced?' Mars worried.
. . .
Hoku's ears continued to register an oppressive void of silence.
His attention returned to the compass cradled in his palm.
The needle's frenzied spinning had subsided, yet it now moved with a rhythmic tick.
The motion unfolded in a manner that alluded to a countdown.
Despite the compass's peculiar behavior, Hoku found himself less inclined to dwell on its idiosyncrasies.
The instrument had a history of defying expectations, its guidance often bordering on the enigmatic.
Yet, a disquieting thought took root in his mind.
'If the ritual site had indeed been compromised, why would the compass direct me toward a potential trap?'
Suspicion coiled within him.
'This compass is designed to navigate me away from peril. So, why lead me into one? Could it be that it anticipated our skepticism... or maybe…'
An unsettling possibility surfaced.
'...it's guiding us directly to the entity Mars mentioned—the one we were to summon beforehand?'
Notably, the compass's behavior had remained unchanged until the moment Mars introduced the lantern.
Unbeknownst to Hoku, Mars had arrived at a similar conclusion.
The path they traversed bore the subtle yet deliberate influence of the compass's guidance, suggesting a purpose beyond mere coincidence.
The so-called "ritual site" they approached bore none of the sanctity or structure typical of such places.
Instead, it was a repurposed remnant of a prior ceremony, with only the "supplies" and the divination seal renewed.
At its center lay an object resembling a jawbone that had been fashioned from a copper plate and affixed to a bone stalk.
This apparatus served as a press, designed to fold upon itself under controlled pressure until it fractured.
The ritual commenced with the insertion of a specific leaf between the copper and bone.
These leaves, harvested from the phosphorescent veins adorning the tunnel walls, retained a residual substance that mimicked the energy from sunlight.
Their luminescence guided the precise depth to which the copper should be pressed.
As pressure was applied, the copper would gradually bend and strain its structure until it cracked.
This deliberate fracture released molten slivers that flowed into two meticulously carved channels; one descending along the wall, the other etched into the floor.
These grooves, which didn't have an ornamental purpose, directed the molten material toward two shallow basins situated at their termini.
Each basin housed a translucent stone that was sensitive to the weight, balance, and intent behind the ritual.
Should one stream outpace the other, even marginally, the equilibrium would be disrupted, rendering the ritual a failure.
Nonetheless, this was not to test one's meticulousness, as it was truthfully a metaphysical assessment that gauged the practitioner's inner harmony.
Unlike other rituals that allowed for overriding sabotage by either removing it or integrating it into the ceremony, this one demanded precise execution.
Its design resisted interference; any deviation from the original performance over the ritual site led to irrevocable consequences.
Mars, despite his fragmented recollections, had inadvertently dismissed the ritual's intricacies by focusing solely on the seemingly innocuous groove, assuming it could be safely integrated into the ritual.
Instead, he made the fatal mistake of triggering the divination seal alone with the lantern, as the passage keeper had intended.
As Hoku wiped his compass with his sleeve, the ground beneath them trembled.
A small fissure formed along the groove, accompanied by a deep, resonant rumble.
The air thickened, and a piercing ring filled Hoku's ears.
Through the distortion, Mars's urgent cry reached him:
"It was a circuit to the seal!! RUN!"
SHHRICK!!
The lantern's glass panes shattered outward, each fragment spiraling in tight, precise arcs, as if drawn by an unseen force.
Hoku had already vanished ahead as his departure was so swift it seemed he'd been poised on the edge of flight his entire life.
One might suspect he'd rehearsed this very escape in his dreams.
They both sprinted down the tunnel from which they had come, narrowly avoiding the shifting stone that pulsed behind them.
Where the lantern had once stood, the central socket began to lower.
CRRRRAAAACK!!
The grooves flanking it quivered, then bent, snapping open with symmetrical violence.
Two cracks ripped sideways from the center, dividing the platform into shifting plates.
A chasm yawned open, briskly racing the ritual grooves.
Hoku didn't glance back until the tremors intensified.
It was then he noticed the old fissure they had marked as sealed behind them had transformed.
No longer was it the mere slit of floor offering a glimpse of more stone below.
Now, as tremors coursed past them, it had sunk further.
The atmosphere throbbed with the vibrations.
"I knew something felt off!" Hoku's voice broke from restraint.
The new fissure behind them had caught up to the one ahead.
They had been traversing a corridor balanced on the pretense of structure, one that held only because the ritual remained incomplete.
As he ran, the sound of Mars's ragged breathing grew louder with each strained step toward Hoku.
Without warning, Mars seized Hoku's arm and yanked him abruptly backward.
Mars's voice, sharp and commanding beyond any tone Hoku had ever heard, cut through the panic in Hoku's mind as he bellowed, "Jump!"
Acting on instinct, Mars hurled his own weight into the air, flinging Hoku across the fissures with desperate force.
The tunnel lurched beneath them as Hoku's foot missed the far edge of the ground.
Heart hammering, he was propelled forward by some shred of instinctive will, hurtling through midair toward the opposite wall.
For a moment, he felt suspended between life and death, and then, by sheer will alone, he cleared the brink of the fissure and landed on the far side.
The impact was bone-shaking as rough stone scraped across his elbows and shoulder, even rasping at his cheekbone, and the pain drove all the air from his lungs.
Gasping, Hoku pressed himself against the wall to steady himself, fighting off panic as he forced each breath.
Mars must have known they could never outrun the ground as it split open. If he truly foresaw their doom, then he had risked himself to give Hoku a chance at escaping.
Hoku's mind raced even as his limbs obeyed.
There was no time to look back; behind him, the ground he had just left had become a narrow thread of trembling rock.
He scrambled upright and planted a hand against the tunnel wall to steady himself.
Ahead of him, the tunnel's end loomed ever nearer, but at that threshold, the fissures had already arrived.
Hoku hurled himself forward and crossed the threshold just as the chasm behind him yawned open wider.
Twisting on his heel without pausing, he scanned back for Mars.
His vision cleared just in time to see only a billowing cloud of dust.
The ground on Mars's side had folded upward, creasing the rock like paper dragged into darkness.
A raw cry tore from Hoku's throat.
"Mars!" he gasped.
The world beneath him felt impossibly solid and yet entirely hollow, heaving with each frightened breath.
Clutching at the rough stone wall, Hoku could no longer hold back the tumults within.
"No! Tell me you didn't—"
He strode to the precipice before peering past the end.
Logic told him the abyss would yield nothing, but logic had long since deserted him.
His mind was a roiling storm of shock, grief, and disbelief, untethered and adrift upon a sea of dread.
A tremor shook his frame, and he staggered back from the brink.
In a panic, he groped for the compass in his pocket, only to recall it was gone.
He had held it firmly until Mars's final sacrifice, but in that instant it had slipped from his grasp and tumbled into the fissure.
His hand dropped from his face as he drew a hollow breath.
The sound that escaped him was neither sob nor laughter, but something harsh and bitter,
"Of course! The one time I needed it most."
He stood utterly alone and vacant of any power to rewind time.
Cold dread settled on his shoulders, heavy as iron chains.
'Is he truly gone?' The thought reverberated in his mind like a death knell.
He was not the first to stand at the edge of despair.
Yu-Ze and Cheshire… they had been left behind in that frantic escape from the nest.
Hoku pressed trembling fingers to his lips as nausea knotted in his gut.
For a fleeting, desperate heartbeat, he had believed the compass might save him.
Alas, every further second that he stood empty-handed seemed to remind him of his own insignificance.
Slowly, he raised his head and looked back down the tunnel.
Its bottom was lost, and there was no foothold or ledge to break his fall.
There was no descent here that would not end in death, and no way to gauge its depth.
Eventually, his arm fell limp by his side.
Hoku felt Mars' distant remarks about his origins as the Navigator in his mind.
According to him, he had once clung to the conviction that his purpose was to seek the end of all mysteries in the Sequel.
Now that conviction lay snuffed out and as fragile as a candle's flame.
Without a soul to guide, every path before him felt hollow and meaningless.
In the solitude of those empty roads, one fragile thought remained: to repay the debt to those who hadn't intentionally left him behind.
If he could make any cause his own, it would be to use the Sequel's forbidden knowledge as a key to unlock their freedom, even if that freedom awaited beyond the veil of his own oblivion.
He still could not fathom why the faces of those he had known shortly shone with inexplicable warmth in the corners of his memory.
Perhaps, as Lamb had insinuated in her strange riddles, it would not be his mind that recognized his own nature, but this borrowed vessel of flesh adapting to new hosts.
Maybe somewhere beyond the reach of conscious thought, strands of countless experiences bore familiarity to these strangers even when his mind lay empty.
For a long moment, he let himself drift away from his own fate and toward the lives he had already placed before his own.
Slowly, he walked onto the string of stone and allowed his boots to fall in a soft concession as he made his way down the same tunnel.
As he halted before a wider void, he drew in a single breath.
If Hoku were to die here, he understood that things would simply turn again.
All of the memories and progress they had gained would dissolve, and everything would slip back to some point in the past.
Hoku's fingers curled into his palms until his nails bit into his skin.
He shut his eyes, letting the tips of his boots graze the precipice one final time.
For the first time, he welcomed his purpose.
「The Fob of the Abundant Maker's Timepiece remains unconcluded.」
To be continued…