[Christmas, part 2]

[floatingplot]

[You have escaped. Congratulations, surely all your problems are over and you can return to your apartments- Oh, wait, no.]

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[floatingplot]

[As you burst from the catacombs chased by a giant bone golem, there is no sky, no horizon. This fragment of a fallen city is surrounded only by black water, held at bay by a thin glass bubble. There is nothing to be seen beyond the bubble but the dark, for you are in a city of glittering and crumbling buildings deep within the abyss of the ocean.


The buildings themselves are old and decayed, but once they were shining futuristic metal, high rises towering to the sky far beyond the technology of Atuin and East Blue.


This is not a true city, a whole city, because you can see in the distance where it unnaturally ends, where the buildings and paths are sliced in two by the bubble’s wall. It is still the size of a small island.


If you stare at that bubble hard enough, you will notice the cracks on its surface, the occasional droplet of water beading and falling slowly to the decayed ground.]

[vanitying]

[Gradually slows as they walk, taking in the sights -- and letting out an impressed whistle.]

Damn. You getting all this, Kid?

[sharkbites]

Y-yeah. We stuck in the ocean.

[vanitying]

Time to get unstuck then. Can't be... much farther.

I hope.

[And moving!]

[floatingplot]

[An old, fractured screen hanging from a high-rise springs to life.

Current events feed missing, repeating most recent entry...
With the current state of the city, all is not lost. Under the wise guidance of the king, the space program is being refitted into crafts able to reach the surface and the cities beyond.]

[sharkbites]

...Space program?

[vanitying]

Think about it. Ghost said 'centuries ago'. If we're still where I figure we are, this place came first.

[sharkbites]

...Huh. Ain't never paid a lot of attention to this place's history and shit.

[vanitying]

Guess they turned the rockets to subs and built those cities later, but... how the hell d'you start out with an underwater city?

[But this is maybe not the best time to think about this.]

... Well, whatever. Ready?

[sharkbites]

...Ready.

[Let's go look for a way back to the surface bro '-']

[floatingplot]

[Another step, another screen.

Current events feed missing, replaying older entries...

The marine vessel program has been attacked by terrorists believed to be supporting the Servants. While they have yet to make a statement about it, [Static] no survivors.

All the roads lead inwards, towards the city center.]

[vanitying]

... Or not.

[To the city center, then!]

[sharkbites]

[To the city center we go...!]

[floatingplot]

[In the centre of the city...

It was a glorious thing, you can see white marble through the soot, broken statues littering the ground that once rivalled the Michael. Far larger than any of the temples on Atuin, this is the temple to the God itself.

And it is patterned in waves.

There's heavy double doors on ground level.]

[vanitying]

[Things that are worrying about this: everything. But it sure is pretty.

Heading towards those doors.]

[floatingplot]

[This level of temple is covered in cracking tile murals, no doubt once beautiful and colorful. They show a simple story:

The God appears on a world of raging water, alone.

He builds an island, and He crafts people to live on it, people in His image with all the traits of Humans, Long, Bast and Angha.

They shine like a beacon, so brightly that things begin to reach towards the world. Black things that eclipse the moon and sun, things reaching with twisted limbs and baring fractal teeth.

So He reaches into the crystal heart of the world and breaks away four crystals.

In His hands, they become four people, each a pale mirror to His own brilliance, for they only have one trait each of the species.

The blue-robed one, holding a sparkling rainbow fire, him merely the human body.

The red-robed one, casting dice with a smile, she who possesses only the glorious wings of the Angha.

The green-robed one, grasping a halberd, with the strength of the Long.

The yellow-robed one, wielding a sword, with the ears and eyes of the Bast.

Those four kneel at the four corners of the world and keep away the dark things while He stands king over all.

It ends there.

There is an altar at the back of this room, a heavy wooden thing, with a priest slumped over it clutching a scroll.

In the far corner there is an door opened to the first steps of a spiral staircase leading upwards.]

[sharkbites]

[...Does he want to check out that scroll or go upstairs...

...Fabian moves to check the scroll first, at least.]

[floatingplot]

[The priest is robed, not monstrous, untouched by the contamination of magic madness somehow. The scroll unrolls into a map of the ancient world.

It shows five cities.

East Blue, the city drenched in magic on the surface, attributed- To Isate, wait, what?
Atuin, the floating city of Cang Long.

These two, at least, aren’t changed:

Sakmet, the city of Metoth.
Saena, the city of Angha.

Those four each have a red cross somewhere on them, an X marks the spot in places you might know as untamed wilderness where nothing is. Totally. Of course the tourist and other modern maps of the cities are entirely accurate, trust your gods.

And the fifth, the capital in the center of all four:

Righad, the capital city.

There’s an extra new addition to the map, a messy scrawl of ‘Dome Righad’ on a piece of blank ocean.

But the map doesn’t end merely with the world. It shows a blank stretch of stars, and there’s an X up there, too...]

[vanitying]

[Reading over Fabian's shoulder, with an expression that could only really be described as 0_0, before he looks away, sliding glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose.]

... I need a drink.

[... Taking a minute to write all of this down in a notebook, first.]

Kid, gimme that scroll.

[sharkbites]

[Fabian will be prying the scroll away from the body and handing it over to Ichiro!]

[vanitying]

Thanks.

[Putting it away in a safe place!]

Ready?

[sharkbites]

[Fabian moves toward the staircase!]

[floatingplot]

[Up the staircase is a half-lit gate. It clearly requires more magical power.

There's a closed door on this level, over there.]

[vanitying]

[Looks at the door.

Looks at the gate.]

... Looks like we found our way out. Any ideas?

[sharkbites]

Gate needs more juice. Maybe in the other room?

[vanitying]

Maybe. Go check, I'm gonna try something.

[Fishing around in his coat for something -- a knife, and experimentally cutting his finger.

If he's got magnetite for demons to use, maybe it'll charge the gate a little too. Kind of smearing it on there and looking for a change in the status.]

[floatingplot]

[Oh, yes. It charges a little off that.

You're going to need more blood, a lot more, though.

...And uh, Fabian. Remember that supernatural hunger? It suddenly kicks in with a vengeance with the scent of human blood in the air.]

[sharkbites]

[Oh fuck no if Fabian had anymore sanity he'd be cursing you Ichiro HE SAID HE WAS A FUCKING SHARK

Last ditch attempt to salvage this situation -- by bashing his own head against the wall, repeatedly. He is not going to be a cannibal here nope.]

[vanitying]

Shit --

[Oh

fuck that was a thing wasn't it

SORRY BRO I GOT DISTRACTED BY THE GATE

Putting that finger in his mouth to get the remainder of the blood from the wound out, and running on over to the other room.]

[sharkbites]

[Fabian just keeps bashing his own head against the wall, until he bleeds, then --

Well, he's out, slumped over.]

[floatingplot]

[In the other room are crystals, mostly charged.]

[vanitying]

[Grabbing as many of those as he can, then coming back to the gate! Then putting them down -- first, he needs to pick Fabian up and throw him over his shoulder, in case something happens at the last minute.

Then he tries charging the gate with some of the crystals.]

[floatingplot]

[Ding, you're through!]