The descent was precarious at best. It was far deeper than they had imagined. Even after four hours of climbing down, there was no hint of the bottom anywhere—only the straight stone wall, the endless chasm, and them.
They were exhausted. Rest would be needed soon, but trying to sleep on the slippery wooden beams would have been a recipe for disaster.
A gust of wind slammed into the wooden scaffolding, making them sway and threatening to send the group plummeting down. Talom grabbed Alphons by the collar since the young man had lost his arm and had trouble staying stable.
The terrible gust passed, and no one was hurled into the abyss this time.
"We can't go on like this…" Talom said, letting go of Alphons.
Fortunately, after another hour of descending, a rocky, uneven ground came into view.
"Finally! I was starting to worry we'd never reach the bottom." Eshrod sighed in relief.
"We'll rest before making our way to where the waterfall lands," Elion said, already plopping down from exhaustion.
No one argued with that.
There was no wood in sight, so they would have to brave the biting cold of the Depths without a fire. At least Elion had brought some tentacles from the shadowy creature before setting out.
As painful as it was to eat, it was better than nothing.
I'm not so sure about that…
Really, each bite was pure agony. For a moment, while chewing, Elion thought he was back, tied to the chair in the Earth God's base.
It was at that level.
The young cook shook his head, swallowed what could barely be called food, and took a big gulp of water. Then he lay down on the cold stone.
A little rest will do wonders.
Elion hadn't remembered his dreams since leaving the time loop. The last one had allowed him to break free of the divine spell's tyranny, but his little dream companion had been oddly silent—until now.
He woke up. Everyone was asleep except Hela and Talom, who stood guard.
Elion stood and began walking toward the darkness, seemingly aimlessly. The two on watch gave him a dubious look but said nothing, probably used to his antics at this point.
He walked for a while in absolute darkness, using his ability to avoid walking into a wall or falling into a bottomless chasm. There was a dull ache in his head, like when he overused it, but this time it felt different—muffled somehow.
The area he walked through was completely alien. The formations of stone looked like structures—natural yet artificial at the same time. He couldn't be sure what they were; his ability let him discern only their shapes, but that alone raised questions.
Still, he kept walking. It felt strange, as if his body was on autopilot, moving forward without his input.
At one point, he came to a narrow crevice. He had to slither into it, nearly getting stuck. Beyond was a sequence of claustrophobic, winding passages in the stone, each tighter than the last. Nevertheless, Elion, eel-like as ever, crawled through.
When the ceiling finally opened up, a sudden feeling of wonder settled deep into his heart. That's when he woke up.
What just happened?
Had the whole exploration been a dream?
He looked around. Just like before, Talom and Hela were keeping watch while the others slept.
Am I back in a time loop?
No… that didn't make sense. What he had just experienced was clearly a dream—and dreams always held meaning. They always pointed him in the right direction. After what happened during the time loop, it was safe to assume something bigger was at play. It was simply impossible for all of them to be coincidences.
If that was the case… what Kellta had said about the slumber spell, the runes on his forearm might have something to do with sleep.
Elion looked at them again. They were still grey and inactive.
Do they activate only while I dream?
It made sense. If the enchantment was what drove the premonitions. It would explain why he had never seen them activate, and why they seemed tied to sleep. The reason they had been inscribed on his arm in the first place, however, was still a mystery.
Now came the question—should he follow the dream's direction? Elion knew he would. But in the dream, he had been alone. That wasn't reassuring.
He glanced at the sleeping forms of his companions.
Should I wait for them?
In the end, he went alone. The dreams had never lied. If this was how it had to be, maybe it was for the best.
And his gut told him this was something for him alone to deal with.
Elion disappeared into the darkness, his hand tense on the hilt of his sword, his face hidden behind his mask.
He retraced the steps from his dream. This time, the headache from using his ability was definitely real—but walking in the dark without it would have been worse.
He remembered the way, but not enough to walk it blindly.
It didn't take long to reach the narrow crevice in the wall. He squeezed in, for once in his life, he was grateful he wasn't tall. The passage was as tight and suffocating as in his dream.
Elion had to unstrap his sword and pass it first to make it through the twisting paths.
When the ceiling finally grew higher and the walls opened, the sight was otherworldly. There was no light, so the young cook relied on his ability, but what he saw almost made him lose consciousness.
The structure before him was woven out of chromatic strings in a way he had never seen. Usually, living things had the most complex weave, but this—this was something else entirely.
It wasn't alive. The form was less organic, its parts different, but the sheer density of the weave in such a contained form was overwhelming.
This structure was important—that much was clear—but everything from its nature to its origin was a mystery. Studying it too long made Elion feel like his head might explode.
He approached cautiously, feeling his way in the dark, careful not to trip now that he had stopped using his ability. His hand touched something cold and metallic.
He spent a long time trying to identify it. Then, by accident, he touched something that clicked. The runes on his index finger began glowing with a golden light.
Text written in Terask appeared on a panel. It flashed blue, then a door slid open. Lights buzzed to life, bathing the room in a sterile, faintly bluish hue. The air smelled of dust and stillness. The hum of machinery filled the space as Elion stepped in.
The room wasn't large. A messy bed sat in the far-right corner, and wires ran across the floor. Every inch was cluttered with strange machines, like the lair of some genius villain.
No one had been here in a very, very long time.
Elion looked around, overwhelmed.
What is this place?
It must be connected to the Voice of God; it had interacted with it to open.
He stepped over a pile of boxes filled with alien components and reached a desk holding what looked like a futuristic computer.
The screen was on; it had activated along with the structure.
A pile of blocky grey devices sat beside it. One was still connected to the computer with a wire.
To the left stood a machine shaped like a chair, with a helmet where the head would rest. Nearby shelves were crammed with parts and cobbled-together inventions.
Elion picked up the connected device—it was the only one that didn't look broken.
The moment he touched it, the world swayed. The strange device opened, gripping his hand with small tendrils of steel. It wasn't painful—more like being pulled into a dream.
[5th Relay of the Username: Forgotten King. {Subject: Atria, Goddess of Guidance and Direction.}]
[Compiling data…]
[Data complete.]
[Authorizing…]
[Authorization complete. New system unlocked: Rotten Sun.]
The voice was familiar—like the Voice of God, but different. The original sounded human, real. This was like a synthetic computer imitation of that voice.
[Starting sequence 5…]
Everything went dark. Elion felt like he was floating in water—no smell, no touch, no taste, no sight. Only sound.
"Is this on?" The voice was the same as the one from his dream, when he had begun remembering the time loop.
The sound of someone tapping on glass.
"Should be…" The voice took a deep breath. "Alright. Welcome—hopefully no one—but most likely some dumb, unfortunate kid who stumbled onto my work in the future."
The person speaking cleared his throat.
"I am [Forgotten King], and this is my life's work!"
His name was replaced by the same robotic voice.