Robert plants his hand on the nearest surface he can find. In the complete darkness around him, he cannot tell if it is a wall or not. He knows that it continues to stand alongside him as he walks in the direction that he still believes is forward, if he wasn’t accidentally flipped around by some supernatural force. The wall remains beside him, and there is still a floor beneath him.
It is all he gets to orientate himself as the environment gives him nothing. There are no drafts or breezes coming through; the air lies stagnant all around him. The temperature is low, causing a shiver to run up his spine. The silence crawls right over him like a thousand bugs. He reminds himself to remain calm. It works as well as a mantra can, but it does not clear away enough of his thoughts for him to start formulating a plan. All he has with him are the scattered bits of information from the city, the last words the illusion of Invisigal told him, and the urge deep within his bones to continue forward.
He is rewarded for his efforts by a new noise echoing in the space around him alongside his breaths. Robert pauses immediately. He strains his hearing for what the noise could possibly be. He considers it is the first sign of his insanity, but he rather thinks the first sign was him waking up in a hotel room without Galen (he still hasn’t found any clues about where the man has gone, has he?).
Since the random noise is all he has, Robert decides to follow it. He doubles his effort, steadily increasing his speed down the hallway. His fingers catch on protrusions in the wall. He feels no pain, likely due to the artificial hands forced upon him by the chimera and the illusion of Chase. They do, however, manage to keep a piece of Robert’s attention with them, and that grounds him. He has to be careful. Too much can go wrong. His life is at stake, and he’s starting to believe a lot of other people’s lives are, too.
Robert stops again. The noise has not changed, but it is clearer now. Robert recognizes it as words. It is mostly an utterance for help over and over again with the occasional attempt at explaining who the person is and where they are in this underground maze. Always a hero, Robert immediately switches his mission to rescuing them instead of focusing on his own survival.
It helps, of course, that he knows who the voice belongs to.
The voice leads Robert to a light. He runs right into it, shielding his eyes to avoid hurting himself. As his vision clears, the voice suddenly changes their words. The victim can see him, and they are begging for help from him personally because they, too, know Robert.
The hero lowers his hand. He smiles at Waterboy, even when he realizes that the bright-haired man is trapped right now. It is a bizarre looking cage. It is like a tree made from ice is growing through the concrete floor. A glass cage shaped like a droplet hangs over the ground. Waterboy is stuck in it. He is shivering. The cold temperature has frozen the water that naturally drips off of his body. His skin is pale, and his lips are turning purple. He presses his hands against the edge of the glass. He immediately winces, yet he refuses to pull away because Robert approaches from that side.
“R-R-R—”
“Shhh,” Robert murmurs. Between the cold temperature and Waterboy’s natural stutter, they are never going to get through a conversation. Robert doesn’t need an explanation, either. For one reason or another, Waterboy has been trapped here. Robert is going to do whatever it takes to save him. Invisigal’s words float away from his thoughts as he searches the rest of the room for a solution.
The floor, as he observed earlier, is made from concrete. The walls and ceiling are, too, and while not as big as the room he was in before the vault, this place is spacious, too. A few pieces of debris are stacked haphazardly in the corners, and Robert doesn’t know where they came from. He doesn’t have time to investigate, either, as he sees what must be the puzzle for this area (because whatever force is messing with him is definitely testing him).
Robert runs up to the control panel. There are several unmarked buttons, levers, and switches. They are different colors, though, so there must be a system to it. He looks around the metal box they are all connected to. He doesn’t find any instructions written or burned into the surface. Nothing happens when he kicks the box, either, but it was definitely worth a shot.
Robert turns his attention back to the surface. His fingers hover. He is terrified that pressing the wrong button will get Waterboy killed. When he realizes he might have to take his chances, he hears a buzzing noise next to his ear. A mechanical butterfly lands on one of the buttons. It slowly flaps its metallic wings. Robert can sense the patience radiating across the creature. He doesn’t know why he trusts it, but he moves to press the button. The butterfly floats away just in time, landing on the handle of a lever. As Robert reaches for it, he watches a large screen descend from the ceiling. It is booting up. Blue light falls over Robert and the console. He ignores it in favor of following the butterfly’s careful instructions. It is a lengthy process, though, and worry begins eating away at his gut.
Robert moves his fist to the button the butterfly was resting on. As he slams his fist down, the butterfly flutters over to the cage where Waterboy continues to freeze to death, watching helplessly through the glass. Robert manages to press the button while throwing himself away from the console.
After his first step away, the room erupts with alarms. The lights are overtaken by a red pulsing. A screeching noise fills his ears. He is knocked to his knees by the intensity of it. He manages to continue crawling for a few more feet. He gets back to his feet in time to be right in front of the cage. Waterboy curls in on himself at the bottom of the droplet. The entire room starts shaking. Robert reaches to grab the butterfly. His hands go right through the droplets’ exterior. He grabs onto Waterboy.
The moment he does, the droplet freezes. Everything inside of it does, too. Robert’s expression drops. He feels the cold air hit his horrified expression. He tries tightening his grip on Waterboy, wholeheartedly believing that he can save the man if he simply pulls hard enough. He pushes his foot against the edge of the droplet to give himself more force. He watches the frost start to crawl over his boot.
And then, something gives. The starlight that had been woven together to form his arms is still stuck in the ice and his boot is practically glued to it, but Robert finds himself thrown backwards. His body collides with the ground. He is still cold, he idly thinks, unable to feel the way red blood and golden ichor fall from the stumps where his arms once were.
Tilting his head to the side, Robert sees the screen again. His vision blurs, yet he is certain he can make out the word ‘LAUNCHED’. Behind it, white lines are forming the schematics of a machine. It reminds Robert of what he found in the bar where the mechanical doll impersonating Prism sang.
Before he can put the pieces together, the butterfly flaps its wings to bring itself to him. It lands on his forehead. He tries to continue looking at it. His vision blurs completely. The butterfly opens its wings. The shadows fall over Robert’s eyes, and he suddenly can’t see anything at all. Descending into the darkness, he can no longer feel his body. All that remains in the featherlight of the sensation of the butterfly guiding him to his final destination.
But should he follow?
Follow
Rest
