Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 75: City of Fear

Toren Daen

The Relictombs were, by nature, nigh impossible to understand. The twisting connections of spacial pocket dimensions transcended what was considered common sense, providing challenge and danger to all who entered. The djinn had condensed all of their world-bending knowledge, all of their understanding of the secrets of the universe, into each of these zones.

Each dungeon floor was designed to bestow some sort of insight of aether to the ascender. It was a last-ditch attempt at preservation, keeping knowledge away from the oppressors.

Few had made progress in gaining that insight. Instead, people only saw the surface-level rewards of gold and glory, skimming over the bountiful possibilities these tombs presented.

If one could understand the way aether intertwined with the world, they could do anything. Rewrite space. See forward in time. Create new life.

And as I gazed up at the towering structures of steel and glass around me, I found my already exhausted mind struggling to find a reason why. How could this place bestow any sort of insight? How could it lead to knowing aether?

Because all I could see in the looming skyscrapers, casting a deep shadow under an overcast sky, was a heartwrenching reminder of my previous life.

The zone I had stepped into looked like an Earthen city. Tall, corporate buildings kissed the sky, crisscrossed by miles of asphalt and concrete. Power lines trailed along the empty, forgotten sidewalks, where traffic lights changed color for long-gone cars.

In my previous life, men would peer from the top of those towers, looking down figuratively and literally on the pedestrians below. People would mill in droves, walking to their jobs or classes or events or clubs.

But there was not a soul in sight. I was in a city of ghosts.

I felt something building inside my chest like a dam about to burst, the pressure increasing exponentially. It coursed from my lungs and into my throat. And then I couldn't contain it anymore.

I laughed, deeply and sonorously. It echoed out into the dead street, a traffic light turning red. There were no cars to stop.

My laugh was uproarious, pressing against my sides until it hurt. The breezeless air accepted my maddened cackle like a debtor, drawing it from my lungs with a command. I had dealt with the absurd for so, so long.

I felt tears gather at the edge of my eyes. My chest ached from my laughter.

The Relictombs had thrown so much at me. The constant reminders of my previous life were always there at the edge of my sight, mocking me with their similarity. The zone I had been in before was clinically close to a common twenty-first-century suburb, but it was small. There were ten houses at max, and then the illusion vanished.

But this? This was a city. It was the pinnacle of old-world urbanization.

I almost didn't notice when the atmosphere shifted, a strange force weighing in the air, running thin fingers across my spine. My laughter finally died as a hand cracked through the concrete near my feet with the sound of splitting rock. The fingers were gnarled and twisted. Grey, sloughing skin barely clung onto a skeletal forearm.

A dozen more hands thrust through the asphalt around me, filling the air with the sound of crumbling stone. The things started to haul themselves out, allowing me to get a glimpse.

They looked like mangled corpses, each and every one of them. Some were trailing their innards on the ground behind them. Others lacked skin everywhere on their bodies or only had one arm. Each body was unique, covered in armor and holding strange weapons in their thin hands. Many looked months into decomposing, but they stood and walked all the same.