「Broken Compass」The Soterice Passages 「III」

"The Fob of the Abundant Maker's Timepiece" -Part I-

Chapter 38

The mention of the Timestream and the recurring deaths stirred memories of the enigmatic dreams where Hoku first heard a woman's voice addressing him.

He contemplated their significance, yet no clarity emerged.

After a moment, he remarked, "Who would have thought that seeking the truth behind a peculiar painting would unveil so much, yet reveal so little?"

Mars ran a hand through his hair, emitting a thoughtful hum.

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

"I'm only recounting my own mistakes," Hoku replied.

"So, it was your curiosity that led you here..."

Hoku exhaled softly. "Essentially."

Mars offered a faint smile. "I should have explained the purpose of this passage earlier. It might have lessened your burden."

Hoku shook his head, indicating that an apology wasn't necessary.

"The remaining passages differ from the first two. They don't assess strength in the traditional sense."

Hoku studied the stone surface. "So, this is the third?"

Mars nodded and proceeded to explain, "Juno and Li have likely completed the second by now. Did you hear the sound earlier? Like stone collapsing upon itself?"

"I've heard it more than once," Hoku replied.

"That aligns," Mars murmured, his voice barely audible over the ambient hum of the chamber. "The passages progress through resonance. Each sequence triggers the next once its conditions are met."

He turned to Hoku, his expression obscured by the interplay of shadows and the glow from the wall patterns. "However, don't mistake the absence of bloodshed for simplicity."

A pause full of implicit implications, settled between them.

Hoku's gaze drifted to the pouch at Mars's side, partially concealed beneath his mantle. "At the entrance… the flame. That sack you used. I've seen a similar one before."

Mars blinked slowly. "Everyone receives one upon arrival. Few understand its purpose until it's needed. Emergency tools like charms, antitoxins, and wound dressings, if you're fortunate. The Nest doesn't accommodate ignorance."

Hoku tilted his head thoughtfully. "It resembles a personalized survival kit."

"Yes! It is as you say," Mars affirmed, speaking with fervor.

He proceeded to elucidate, "The Nest is situated near the outer barrier, referred to as the Garden of Tulips, though that likely wasn't its original name. It's more of a threshold than a location. The Nest serves as a preliminary filter, like a preface."

"Preface," Hoku repeated quietly. "So, this place was intentionally designed?"

Mars offered a slight smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, by the Abundant Creator."

A breeze that wasn't a breeze brushed past them. Still, the slab remained unmoved.

Hoku continued, more to himself now. "In the Nest… I noticed the monsters seem to follow some directive."

He recalled Ollie's earlier remark during the passage about needing to carve a place, lest they cease to exist.

'He must have been referring to a role as well. Is everyone bound by some system of obligation? Like characters in a story, repeating the same mission endlessly to continue existing? Is this how they're controlled?'

"Only those within Mantras," Mars interjected. "The monsters are under the Abundant Creator's control if they reside within His creation."

Hoku fell silent, with his lips parted but unspeaking.

Mars allowed the silence to linger before speaking, his voice low and deliberate. "Some spaces are original, essentially what we've called Mantras. Others are derived. Epochs are reflections of previous instances in the original world. Since Epochs were implemented to fill gaps in the Sequel, and don't technically belong to the Creator, those originating within a timeframe placed into the Sequel by the Creator possess more freedom."

"Mantras and Epochs are distinct, then," Hoku murmured. "It's like blending illusion and reality into separate 'worlds' to create an endless puzzle for anyone venturing into the Sequel."

"Your observation is astute," Mars said. "I believe the choice of Mantras and Epochs is intentional."

Hoku glanced down at his blade, its edge still rusted from earlier battles. After a moment, he looked toward the slab.

"This gate," he said quietly, "you mentioned it reads the role?"

Mars inclined his head. "It selects which aspect of you to challenge. Upon entry, our experiences of the passage will differ slightly. This process measures you before assigning the appropriate challenge to increase the passage's difficulty."

"That seems pretty harsh."

"Yes, I'm sure it is called for in its own way," Mars responded.

Another silence ensued until Hoku promptly voiced, "You all speak of the Creator as if He still observes."

Mars's lips thinned. "You should proceed first." He had clearly avoided addressing Hoku's remark.

Hoku exhaled, said nothing more, and reached forward. The moment Hoku's fingers brushed against the stone, a fleeting chill coursed through him, quickly replaced by the mundane sensation of cold rock.

He glanced back at Mars, seeking confirmation.

Mars inclined his head, then stepped aside.

With a composed expression, Mars placed his palm atop the stone, his scarf cascading over the curved surface.

A more pronounced reaction ensued as the overhead lamps flickered, yet the patterns Mars had traced with his peculiar flame remained unchanged.

Suddenly, the stone beneath the pedestal split clean down the middle. A spill of fine debris drizzled into the dark below, dry as sand and sharp as crushed bone. The platform itself began to tremble subtly at first, then became deliberate as it sank inch by inch into the floor. 

The motion was slow enough to follow with the eyes but deliberate enough to unsettle the ribs.

Hoku's weight shifted backward. He took a step away, then another when the pedestal fully vanished, the last of it slipping under with a grinding sigh.

Mars didn't move much, only stepping back as needed, his arms loose at his sides. But even he tilted his head slightly at the sudden extinguishing of the flames he'd lit before, and one after another, the pateras went dark with soft cracks, as if snuffed out by a wind that couldn't be heard.

A reverberant crash resounded from below. It sounded too heavy to have come from only stone.

Then came a long, rippling whoosh that reverberated dryly, as though a thousand matches had caught at once somewhere far ahead. 

The sound didn't fade, it traveled a bit before becoming too hushed to hear it anymore.

Then, at the edge of where the pedestal had vanished, the floor began to erode.

Tiny fragments popped loose, skittering into the dark, followed by slabs that sheared away neatly, like skin off old fruit. The widening continued until it reached the very tips of Mars' boots, then stopped.

He hadn't flinched.

"I thought the gate was in the wall…" Hoku's voice was thin, slightly hoarse. "It was beneath us?"

Mars leaned forward slightly, then gestured Hoku closer with a quiet motion.

Reluctantly, Hoku stepped up beside him and peered into the gap.

The spiral staircase wasn't grand. It was narrow, carved into tight turns, its edges damp and uneven. A chalky mist clung to its center, disturbed only faintly by the heat that circled. What caught his eye more were the anchored vines. 

They wove along the lower steps, not so much growing over the stone as emerging from it.

Their surfaces appeared to be etched with thornless ridges that luminated faintly under the torchlight. 

Mars remained motionless, yet Hoku noticed a subtle shift in his shoulders, like someone unconsciously adjusting their weight.

"I don't like how still it is," Hoku murmured. "But we can't stay here."

Mars said nothing else and merely began his descent.

The walls curved sharply as they proceeded downward. 

The staircase was too narrow for them to walk side by side. 

With each step, new details emerged: indentations in the stone resembling finger impressions.

Some were worn but smooth, and others appeared so fresh that they still held crumbled dust. 

Around the fifth turn, the vines thickened, coiling stiffly along the inner edge like veins under tension.

They weren't merely clinging; they were growing incrementally.

Hoku's hand hovered near the wall, careful not to touch it.

"Look," he whispered.

The next turn revealed a small chamber.

It inexplicably felt like an interlude. 

The ceiling dipped low, stone ribs hanging overhead like vertebrae, while the floor was nearly obscured by a dense carpet of vines. They weren't wild; they flowed, all twisting in the same general direction. Three doorways lined the far wall, all sealed. Each framed in stone, nearly identical, yet subtly distinct.

The leftmost door was crossed by vines, stretched flat and tight like restraints.

The door on the right mirrored the left, its frame nearly obscured by a dense weave of vines.

But the central door...

Hoku stepped forward, brushing aside a few vines with the back of his hand.

The vines on the floor here differed; they seemed more motion than mass, as they were drawn beneath the door rather than resting atop it.

The directionality wasn't speculative; it was anatomical.

These vines didn't sprawl randomly; they converged toward the center.

"Do you think it's a trap?" he asked.

Mars bent down, his fingers barely grazing the nearest vine.

"If you're referring to the vines," he murmured, "they don't seem to be anchoring. I believe they're exiting."

"This could be leading us."

"Or potentially luring."

Hoku glanced back at the other two doors.

"They appear sealed far too cleanly," he said. "If it were a trap, wouldn't it be more... obvious?"

Mars straightened his posture. "I suppose you have a point..."

Neither moved for a prolonged moment.

Then Hoku stepped forward and placed his hand on the central door. It opened inward without resistance. The vines retreated just enough to clear the threshold.

As Mars and Hoku stepped through the doorway, a sudden chill enveloped them, as if the very air had been drained of warmth.

Beyond lay a long, low tunnel.

The tunnel walls bowed inward as if they had been shaped intentionally by ancient hands. 

Dark stone lined the sides like a chute, while above, the ceiling arched into a sharp, vaulted oval, its surface etched with channels reminiscent of a shell's interior.

Sparse vines clung to the lower walls, and their numbers dwindled as they ascended. 

They wove around faint patterns, partially obscured yet hinting at designs not yet fully revealed.

At their feet rested a solitary lantern, precisely centered. Its frame, forged from darkened metal, bore intricate patterns that were reminiscent of ancient sigils. 

The glass panes were quite dulled, and they emitted a faint, steady glow that was neither bright nor dim, but sufficient to pierce the surrounding gloom.

Mars crouched, fingers brushing against the lantern's cool surface before lifting it by its curved handle. Hoku observed silently, his gaze drifting along the tunnel's length.

"It must have been left for us," Hoku murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The path ahead isn't entirely dark, but without this, navigation would be more difficult."

He gestured toward the walls, where patches of leaves emitted a strange glow, akin to the lantern's flame, flowing through their veins as they neared the tunnel's ceiling, casting sporadic patches of light.

The tunnel stretched endlessly, its terminus swallowed by an oppressive darkness that consumed all light. 

Mars tightened his grip on the lantern and stepped in ahead of Hoku.

Hoku hesitated and clenched his own fingers around the hilt of his sword. After a moment's pause, he followed silently.

As they ventured deeper, the entrance behind them sealed with a resonant thud. 

Only Hoku glanced back, noting the closure with a wary eye. 

Yet, amidst the tunnel's otherworldly ambiance, a self-closing door seemed a trivial anomaly.

Their footsteps resonated with crisp crunches and occasional taps against the railing.

Mars was the first to slow. 

His boots paused over a patch where the vines had recoiled, as though something had passed without touching them. 

Hoku stepped up beside him and narrowed his eyes observantly.

Mars crouched, lowering the lantern near the ground. There, more visible in the lantern's glow, was a hollowed footprint etched into the stone.

"It wasn't us. We haven't even walked past that point," Hoku said, unprompted.

"No," Mars agreed, hovering his fingertips near the untouched stone. "But something must have been here before us."

A light tremor passed beneath their feet, just enough to shift Hoku's balance forward, like a breeze changing direction mid-breath. 

It felt as though something had moved distantly, yet managed to make a profound impact.

Mars rose to his feet and stared ahead. "We should move."

Hoku swallowed and began to follow Mars, intentionally lingering a step behind. He stayed close to the tunnel wall, allowing his hand to brush against it without physically touching, just trailing close enough to feel the stillness.

As they furthered even more, a sudden pressure enveloped Hoku, as if the very space had suddenly conspired to muffle their presence.

 A ringing filled his ears, drowning out all external sounds. 

A wave of disorientation washed over Hoku, compelling him to halt and brace against the wall. 

His eyes darted erratically, searching for Mars, but the expanse around him felt distorted and dreamlike.

Mars was absent from his vision, and for a fleeting moment, Hoku felt utterly alone.

Panic surged within him, and he pushed off the wall before squeezing his eyes shut and calling out, "Mars!"

Upon opening them, Mars stood slightly to his right, with evident concern etched across his face. 

The surroundings remained unchanged, yet something within Hoku was pulled taut, like a string within his mind had been plucked, leaving the world subtly askew.

Hoku remained silent for a prolonged moment, and his expression carried with intense focus as he reached into his coat pocket.

Noticing Mars's anxious search, Hoku finally inquired aloud, "Mars? Is everything okay?"

Without responding, Mars drew forth a brass compass. Cradling the cold metal in his hand, he noted its unexpected weight.

'It's still here. Why did I suddenly fear losing it? What just happened to me?' He pondered, his demeanor reflecting his inner turmoil.

He hesitated to open it, uncertain of his intentions. Yet, an instinctual pull compelled him, especially as the unsettling sensation began to resurface, intensifying.

Another soft nausea rose, as if he was suddenly being spun in circles and then asked to point north.

Gripping the compass tightly, the seam pressed a line into his finger.

Pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he depressed the dial. 

The lid snapped open.

Instantly, the blur clouding his vision dissipated. 

A sudden jolt snapped Hoku back to awareness. For an instant, the ceiling seemed to descend, only to rebound to its original position.

He staggered, steadying himself against the tunnel wall, his fingers scraping against the cold stone.

Mars was immediately beside him. "What just happened?"

"I..." Hoku's breath caught. "I'm not sure. It felt like I was drugged for a moment..."

As he attempted to articulate the sensation, a breeze caressed the back of his neck, an impossibility given the supposed dead end.

He glanced over his shoulder, and his pupils constricted. The path they'd traversed had vanished entirely.

His brows knitted in disbelief and horror.

The peculiar chamber and its entwining vines had been replaced by a tunnel identical to the one ahead.

"Mars," Hoku's voice was barely audible. "Where's the door?"

Mars turned, furrowing his brows. "Huh?"

He paused, clenching his teeth.

"...I'm looking at it," he said, uncertainty lacing his words.

"No, you're not." Hoku stepped back, turning halfway, trying to reorient himself. "It's gone. We were just in a room. There were doors. I chose the middle one."

To be continued...