‘Why would anyone want to live inside this literal hellhole?’ Richter stammered, while staring down into the deep nothingness.
‘Because the crust of the wall is rich in ores and other valuables,’ responded Fernand rather matter-of-factly.
‘What is the daily risk of life and limb when one can walk away from it a millionaire, if lucky enough.’ Lukk pulled a face while he looked into the depths far below them.
‘Hey, Dieter.
I bet all the way down there will be where your army is waiting for you.’ Richter turned his gaze and gave him an angry look.
‘Remember to talk in code,’ he snarled, hushed.
‘Fair, my bad,’ Lukk mumbled defensively.
‘This place is massive beyond anything I’d imagined.
How big is that hole, even?
Two, three kilometres wide?
It’s absurd.
Where are we even supposed to go?’ Cornelia stressfully asked to no one in particular, understandably hesitant to traverse its depths.
Dieter pointed towards the pitch black hole, despite her eyes desperately pleading not to.
‘There.
As deep as we can get.
I understand his meaning now, and why he has chosen this place.
Our bright little architect has always been fond of symbolism, even when it comes at the cost of functionality.
My problem with it is how dangerous the journey down seems, and I assume none of you know how to fly.’ He teasingly laid his eyes on Richter.
‘Or do you hide your bird-like wings under that oversized garment you’re wearing?’ Richter sadly shook his head, ‘How I wish it was so, truly.’
‘There,’ Lukk said, while pointing at what seemed to be some sort of strange and terribly shoddy construction around seventy metres away from them.
The odd mechanism was crowded with numerous people standing in a line of some sort.
Dieter had seen such a thing before, although much more elegantly made.
It was an elevation platform, using a multitude of strong ropes connected to both the (currently lowered) platform and heavy counterweights to make it go up and down.
There was still an element that needed to be done by hand however, as the platform had a manual turning wheel in its center so that the passengers could lift or lower themselves.
They obediently stepped in line and waited patiently for their turn.
And then, after paying its surprisingly expensive toll, rode the overly crowded, creaking and cracking wooden mechanism down, deeper and deeper into the dark, as far as it would go.
Still, far below, the undercity stretched further away from them, slowly getting out of reach from the artificial sun that blazed above, but kept somewhat lit by the numerous torches put into place.
Compared to the upper levels of the anti-city, its population grew sparse and exceedingly strange, as did their increasingly warped and poorly constructed homes.
‘Even a city consisting of nothing but scoundrels and degenerates must have its own outcasts,’ Fernand noted.
‘It is only natural that they too seek to hide from the light’s judgement, however small or artificially reddish it might be.’
Lukk stared downwards, and even he seemed to be affected by the disturbing, unstable nature of the abyss below them.
‘Dieter, I don’t often disagree with you, and I’m more than keen on following you anywhere.
You know that.
But I don’t see a lot of activity down there, let alone a place big enough to host an army.’ Richter stared angrily at the bear-like man for breaking the code-speak, but this time Lukk disregarded it.
There were barely any people around, anyway.
‘You’re just going to have to trust me on this one,’ Dieter told his friend, despite having his own fair share of doubts.
Fernand amusingly seemed to notice his inner conflict, but he thankfully refused to share his findings with the others.
Seeing as it got darker and more dangerous as they progressed downwards, they decided to buy some torches from the locals, as they carried none with them.
Dieter cursed under his breath at the absurdly expensive prices, the damned, sleazy locals knowing full well the desperation of their situation, all too keen on exploiting their unpreparedness.
A tourist tax, Fernand had jokingly named it.
The old healer was playing with him, clearly.
But truthfully, Dieter was just glad the old man was having some fun for once.
The last few weeks had been rough on him, he knew.
The stone-carved roads had ceased entirely, and now their downwards descent only consisted of terribly made bridge-like contraptions, made purely out cracked, half-rotting wood, rope and nails.
The whole thing felt extremely unstable to him, so he didn’t even want to imagine how it would feel to Fernand or the still sickly Cornelia.
He, Lukk and Richter helped the other two during their descent with great care, all of them much too keen on taking their prolonged breaks on the more stable platforms that they’d still encounter from time to time.
Fernand argued that there would be a simpler, more straightforward way back to the surface, at least.
How else, the scholar argued, could a whole army have been moved to these depths?
They had long since passed the last well-maintained anchored torch, as now their only source of light came from their own two torches, held by himself and Lukk.
The false, red sun that hovered above still shone brightly, although not nearly bright enough to cast light on their current surroundings.
Between them and the undercity now lay a sea of absolute darkness.
He wondered if those above them could follow their downwards traversal, all the way up there.
Two infinitely small, tiny sources of light, all alone moving through the bleak darkness of the dreaded abyss.
This was not a place you could come to stealthily, he realized.
At last, they had reached the very bottom of the well.
Or, in a way at least.
The abyss seemed to go on for a while still, but this was as deep as the bridge-roads went.
But before he could feel any sense of regret, or dread at the thought of having to traverse that awfully dangerous path all over again, Lukk cheered loudly with relief, his mature voice repeatedly echoing against the massive dark walls.
Dieter noticed it too, and could not help but laugh in sheer release.
‘I might complain about our benefactor from time to time, but he surely has a wonderful sense of theatrics.
Even down here, in the very depths of the abyss, he teases us with the lost knowledge of our kind’s history,’ Dieter laughed.
Fernand’s face shone especially bright in the torches’ flickering light.
Dieter knew how much the man enjoyed studying lost bits and pieces of mankind’s stolen legacy.
But he had to admit that he too could not wait for the grand revelation that the Thousand Eyed would surely bestow on them, all the way down here, in the very bowels of their world.
The entrance to the strange, crypt-like locale was massive indeed.
It was hard to spot the exact details and overall shape of the man-made structure, but it was clearly carved into the side of the abyss, with differently made, dark stones bulging outwards, forming a circular outer zone on which they were now standing.
It stood complete with balustrades and strange, intricate decorations carved into the floor itself.
Strangest of all, a dim, warm light seemed to radiate from within its halls.
Fernand had already shamelessly grabbed the torch from Lukk’s accepting hands, studying the contents of the ground they stood on.
‘A small break, then?’ Dieter suggested to the group, wanting to indulge the venerable healer for a bit more before they would move on.
As the others eagerly followed the old man around, waving his torch enthusiastically as he did, Dieter stood at the very edge of what seemed to be a balcony of some sort, leaning against the low railing as if tempting gravity to take him.
He stared into the black nothingness, feeling a strange sort of hesitancy set in.
There was something unspeakable about this place, and it ate away at his mind.
Strangely, his enthusiasm for what awaited them within those halls had fully evaporated, leaving only a distasteful sense of intense dread in its place.