Echoes of the Abyss

13.

A week later, finally deemed fit to wander unaccompanied, I find myself walking the grounds of the IMCC facility, seeking solace in the open air. The stark, imposing architecture reminds me of Avernus, but instead of the endless ocean, a tall razor-wire fence encircles the compound. I've seen guards patrolling other sections of the fence line. Armed ones. The mountains rise behind the facility, their peaks obscured by a veil of mist, leaving me wondering about the location of the main access road.

In contrast to the architect's penchant for minimalistic sterility, the IMCC's landscapers have made its expansive grounds a true delight. Walking paths wend their way through patches bursting with colorful tulips, daffodils, and amaryllis, each bed watched over by ornamental topiary in fantastical designs. Beyond these lie "contemplative gardens," each one, part maze, part Zen Garden.

As I step into the first of these contemplative gardens, I'm immediately struck by its intricate design. The path beneath my feet is composed of smooth, grey stones that wind through the garden in a maze-like pattern. Tall, neatly trimmed hedges rise on either side, their deep green leaves creating a sense of enclosure and privacy.

The air is filled with the gentle sound of trickling water, and as I navigate the twists and turns of the path, I find myself drawn towards its source. At the center of the garden, I discover a large square of meticulously raked sand punctuated by carefully arranged rocks of varying sizes and shapes. The rocks seem to have been placed with great intention, each one a silent guardian of the garden's serenity.

Beyond the Zen Garden, I spot a series of smaller, interconnected gardens, each with its own unique features. One boasts a koi pond, its crystal-clear water reflecting the vibrant colors of the fish that swim lazily beneath the surface. Another garden is home to a collection of stone lanterns, their weathered surfaces a testament to the passage of time.

As I continue to explore, I come across a secluded area where a small fountain stands, its gentle cascade creating a soothing backdrop. The fountain is surrounded by a circle of stone benches, each one an invitation to sit and reflect. I imagine this space being used for quiet contemplation or intimate conversations, a refuge from the chaos of the world beyond the garden's walls.

Despite the beauty of the surroundings, I can't shake the feeling of unease that pervades the atmosphere. The carefully cultivated tranquility seems to mask a deeper sense of disquiet, as if the garden itself is holding its breath, waiting for something to shatter its delicate equilibrium.

I shrug off the sensation, silently chastising myself for polluting this pristine and tranquil sanctuary with my errant negative thoughts. But as I round the corner of a particularly dense hedge, I freeze in my tracks, breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I can't believe my eyes, think this must be a trick of the mind, or a side effect of my medication.

For there, sitting on one of the stone benches near the fountain, is Dr. Marcus. Alive, suspiciously unharmed, and looking every inch like the proverbial cat about to devour its next unsuspecting canary.

"Elias?"

He looks up at me, his eyes glinting with a mixture of surprise and something darker, more unsettling. A smile slowly spreads across his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. The tranquility of the garden is shattered by his presence, and a shudder passes through me as he rises to greet me, his voice cutting through the gentle murmur of the fountain. "Emily," he says, his voice eerily calm, "I've been expecting you. I must say, I was impressed by your performance in our little experiment."

"Our experiment?" I spit out the words, my hands clenching into fists. "You used me as a test subject, manipulated me for your own sick and twisted goals, and then left me in Avernus to die!"

He tilts his head, studying me with a clinical detachment that makes my stomach knot. "Oh, but you're so much more than a mere 'test subject,' Emily. Your role in my work with egregores... it's nothing short of extraordinary."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Is he seriously trying to paint me as some twisted accomplice? "You're insane," I whisper, shaking my head. "Your 'work' is an abomination. I want no part in your sick vision."

He takes a step closer, his eyes boring into mine. "Don't you see, Emily? Your experiences, your connection to the egregore... it's transformed you. We're more alike than you care to admit."

I recoil as if slapped. "I am nothing like you," I hiss. "You're a monster, Marcus. A soulless creature playing God with people's lives."

Dr. Marcus chuckles, unfazed by my venom. "Monster, savior... it's all a matter of perspective. But you, Emily... you've glimpsed the truth. Felt the power firsthand. It's in your blood now, a part of who you are."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I think back to the dark thoughts that have plagued me, the moments where I felt something sinister stirring within. Is he right? Have I been fundamentally altered by my ordeal?

"No," I whisper, more to myself than to him. "I won't let you get away with this. I survived, and I'll keep fighting against everything you stand for."

Dr. Marcus shrugs, a knowing glint in his eye. "We'll see, won't we? In the meantime, do take care of yourself, Emily. After all, you're quite the valuable asset. You'll discover the truth soon enough."

Mind reeling with the implications of his words, I watch him leave. Is he right, have I become something else entirely? An egregore in my own right? The thought fills me with a profound sense of disgust.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to center myself. I can't let Marcus' mind games get to me. I survived Avernus Station, clawed my way back from the brink of madness. I am more than his machinations, more than the sum of my traumas.

But even as I cling to that belief, doubt niggles at the edges of my consciousness. The scars I bear, both physical and mental, serve as a constant reminder of what I've endured... and what I might yet become.

No. I shake my head, pushing those thoughts aside. I refuse to let fear and uncertainty consume me. Marcus may see me as some twisted reflection of himself, but I know my own heart. I am Emily, a survivor, a fighter. And I will not rest until I've torn down everything he's built, until I've ensured that no one else suffers as I have.