Shards Of Reminisce

Nobody knew what the vicious beast was.

That was the most shocking part. Not the fight itself, or the sheer strength of it, but the simple fact that it wasn't a Grimm. It bled red and could think. And our weapons had real trouble piercing its hide even after trying for a long while, and the results left the blade duller just from taking a sample.

Still, the older man got what he needed. A piece of hide and a handful of quills, which apparently are enough for him to study back at Beacon.

I decide it's dead, and that's the end of my interest in the matter.

Nothing much happens after that. We continue exploring, covering the first floor thoroughly, finding everything the ruins have to offer. There's a second floor below, so the plan is to sleep first.

We end up camping inside one of the buildings that still has most of its roof intact. The walls are solid enough to block the cold that seeps up from deeper below, and the bioluminescent moss provides just enough ambient light.

Good thing I have a pillow and blankets in my inventory. I ended up giving one set to Jeanne, which earned me a few jealous looks from Yang and Pyrrha. But Jeanne is my woman, so of course I'll give her things or share things with her, it's only natural.

Food? Sure, I can give to everyone, but these are for her and only her.

By the next day, we went down to the second underground floor. A full day spent exploring this dungeon, and hopefully we can wrap this up within the second day and go home. Neo might scold me, but whatever.

Thankfully, the second floor appears to be the bottom. That means there are no more stairs that lead even lower and no more holes leading to deeper caves.

Doctor Oobleck notes almost immediately, while walking and writing simultaneously without slowing his pace or looking up from his notebook, "My hypothesis, based on the structural evidence available, is that we aren't exploring a city. This is a neighborhood at most, that means this is a fraction of something much, much larger that extends beyond our ability to map in any reasonable timeframe."

So all of this is just a block? Then how big would it be if this was actually the city? Would it be bigger than Vale?

Part of me says yes.

Jeanne finds more text here and there as we walk, carved into doorframes and laid into the floors as mosaics. And just like before, she can read it all without any problems; somehow, and then telling the translations to the scientist who documents everything. He should soon reach the end of his notebook.

However, nothing triggers a splitting headache this time. Nothing hits the way that strange name hit me yesterday, that strange resonance that felt like something trying to claw its way out of the back of my skull.

But occasionally, walking through these streets and between the ruins, I feel a knot forming in my throat that I can't explain. Yet I don't mention it to anyone, not even Jeanne, despite she knows my strange feelings about this place, and I don't know why it keeps happening.

At least Jeanne notices when I feel down or uncomfortable, and she stays close and reaches up and gently pats my head without saying anything and rubs my ears. Which probably looks ridiculous to anyone watching from the outside.

I don't care since I love it when she does that.

At least there are no more dangerous monsters down here either. Whatever that thing was, there aren't any more of them.

Though I can't decide if that's a good thing or if the silence is worse.

I'm mid-thought on that when my ears perk straight up and my tail bristles.

Because the same fucking tall humanoid figure is right there.

Ahead of me on the street, it's the same ghostly figure dressed in black robes, the same white mask and that same tall humanoid standing completely still, watching me without any visible eyes in what I assume is curiosity.

The urge to chase it hits me immediately, but I bite it back and stay rooted where I stand.

We stare at each other, or at least, I stare at it. I have no idea what it's doing on its end.

Then, after a moment, I raise my hand and wave at it.

I don't entirely know why I did that. It just seemed like the thing to do for now.

The white mask tilts slowly to one side but doesn't reply in kind.

Then the figure turns to the left and walks through a doorway and disappears.

I stare at the empty doorway for a long moment, but nothing new or special comes out.

'What the fuck are you?' I drag a hand through my hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. 'And why do you keep appearing specifically to me? What is it about me that you find so interesting?'

'Do I even fucking know…them?'

Yet no answers come because they never do.

"Ma'iq!"

My ears swivel before I turn my head. It's Jeanne who is jogging toward me from the direction of the group, her ponytail bouncing behind her.

"Did something happen?"

"Saw the strange figure again," I say simply.

Her expression shifts to immediate concern. "Did it do anything?"

"Just watched. Then left like it always does." I pause.. "I waved my hand at it."

She stares at me and blinks. "You greeted it?"

"Seemed worth trying," I say. Which isn't entirely true. I mostly just didn't know what else to do.

She opens her mouth, closes it again, and seems to decide that there's no response to that, so she settles on a nod instead. "Yang found something. Come on."

So we head back to the group together.

We find Yang waiting at the edge of what might have been a plaza, leaning against a cracked stone column with her arms crossed. Pyrrha stands nearby with perfect posture, and Blake is apart from the group, as usual, her eyes lost in a trance. But all of them seem to be resting or taking a short break.

All but the hyperactive professor.

Instead, he's circling something on the floor in the center of the plaza; or more accurately, orbiting around it with all his senses onto it. He crouches to examine it from new angles, stands up, moves two steps, and crouches again.

The object of his fascination is a unique metallic sphere. Roughly the size of a beach ball, covered in ornamental geometric designs with what looks like a pressure valve at the top. And it's sitting completely still on the stone floor of a ruined… thing.

It looks almost ordinary, save for the design, for something a professional hunter and professor who is treating it like a religious artifact.

"Oh hey, you two made it last," Yang says, pushing off the column. "We were starting to think you got lost down here."

"We weren't lost," I responded.

"Suuuuuuuure."

Rather than play along, I turn to look at the sphere again. "What is that?"

Yang shrugs. "No idea. Found it just sitting here, so I called our group expert."

I look at Pyrrha, who shakes her head. Then, for some reason, I turn to Blake, who simply looks away that only makes me roll my eyes. That leaves me to Jeanne, who gives me a sheepish smile and shrugs as well.

Guessed as much.

I sigh and walk up to our expert, who currently has his glasses way too close to the surface of the sphere and is murmuring to himself at a speed that makes his words sound like radio static.

So I clear my throat to get his attention. "Doctor. What is that? Why the interest?"

"Technology!" he answers immediately without looking up, his pen still moving across his notebook. "Almost certainly pre-collapse in origin! The construction quality is exceptional, the material appears to be an alloy I cannot identify on sight, the ornamental patterns don't follow the same design language as the architecture surrounding us which places it as foreign to this civilization, suggesting it arrived here rather than being built here and the pressure valve is the critical detail." He finally looks up, adjusting his glasses with the hand still holding his pen. "A sealed spherical container with a pressure release mechanism suggests a vessel designed to hold liquid under compression. What liquid, what purpose, and how it came to be sitting here completely unattended in an underground ruin, I cannot yet say. Thrilling, isn't it?!"

Not really.

"And any signs for the exit?"

"Not yet found, I'm afraid." This affect his enthusiasm a little.

Figures.

"Great…" Yang mutters.

That's when a strong tremor rolls through the ground.

Everyone's weight shifts simultaneously, arms coming out for balance, loose debris chattering and skittering across the floor. The tremor doesn't stop as it lasts for several long seconds before finally subsiding.

And the silence returns.

"What was that?" Yang asks, checking both sides.

"No idea."

Then the sphere starts making noise because it's moving, and every head in the group turns toward it at the same moment to find it rolling. Slowly at first, then with gathering momentum, the ornamental patterns catch the light as it moves.

"Huh." The older man follows it with his eyes, notebook still open. "The tremor was apparently sufficient to destabilize it from its resting position. Unfortunate."

It wasn't that strong though.

The sphere rolls for a while before it hits the far wall of the plaza with a resonant clang and comes to a full stop.

Nobody says anything for a while.

And it is Yang who breaks the silence. "Okay, so it can roll. That's…"

Sparks erupt from it in every direction first, before a burst of electrical discharge produces a flash of light violent enough that I throw my arm up to cover my eyes by reflex.

My ear twitches when I hear the other gasp or shout. When I lower my arms, I have to blink rapidly to adjust my sight because it was pretty bright.

And my eyes quickly notice that the sphere is glowing.

The ornamental design lines are lit from within, pulsing cold white-blue in waves, becoming the brightest object down here.

Then the sphere lifts, or more like it floats off the ground.

Rising to about chest height and hanging there with a low sustained hum I feel in my back teeth, rotating slowly.

"That's..." Pyrrha starts, her shield already in her hand.

"Remarkable…" Doctor Oobleck breathes, his pen moving frantically.

Then it shoots off across the plaza and vanishes around a corner.

"After it!" He shouts, already running, his coat flapping behind him.

I'm not sure we should, but we all run after it, nonetheless. Because apparently that's what we're doing now.

We follow it through two streets and a collapsed archway and around a corner that opens into a wider circular space. The floating sphere is there at the center, humming louder than before, trailing sparks occasionally like a live wire.

"What is it doing?" Pyrrha asks.

"We are about to find out!" The scientist enthusiastically exclaims, his notebook is already open and ready for more notes.

True to his words the sphere suddenly drops.

It slams into the stone floor hard enough to leave a visible crack, then it lifts off immediately and moves to another spot.

And it slams again.

Again.

Again.

Five points in total, cracking the floor in what looks to be a pentagon shape. Then it returns to the center, and it keeps slamming on the same cracked spot, harder each time to the point that the individual cracks spread outward more and more.

That's the moment when something cold runs down my spine.

My hands move before my mind catches up and my sword and shield materialize from inventory. My action doesn't go unnoticed as everyone else seems to do the same as me.

"Ma'iq," Jeanne speaks up from just behind my left shoulder. "What is it doing?"

"Nothing good." I answer.

The flying sphere hits the center one last time.

And the floor collapses inward in chunks, revealing what's underneath.

The same black liquid from before.

A pool of it, completely still, catching absolutely no light from anywhere.

"Everyone, stay back." I say, taking half a step back myself while surprised by giving orders when I shouldn't have.

However, nobody argues.

Then that's the moment when the sphere descends into the pool.

That confuses all of us since we expect the object to dissolve into nothing like the other things have done.

And that doesn't happen.

Much to our surprise, the metallic sphere remains completely intact even after it is fully submerged. It stays under for a few seconds, still humming and glowing.

Then it rises, dripping thick rivulets of the black liquid that run down its sides and fall back into the pool. The ornamental lines pulse faster now, the light shifting from cold white-blue to a darker, ominous tone.

At the top, the pressure valve begins to turn. Faster and faster until it spins wildly. A loud whistling tears through the circular chamber as a column of steam erupts upward, forcing us to step back.

Right after that the black liquid in the pool starts to move in small waves.

Right until two thick columns surge outward and upward, twisting through a series of shifting, amorphous shapes. It takes a couple of seconds before they resolve into solid forms with terrifying speed.

A pair of massive arms burst outward.

Then a pair of legs slam down, cracking the stone floor beneath their weight.

A broad torso rises next, pulling more mass up from the pool to feed its growth.

Finally, a featureless head forms. A head with no eyes, no mouth, just a smooth rounded surface that turns directly toward us as if it can see us perfectly.

It straightens its posture and keeps growing in size.

More black liquid surges upward until the new creature stops at the size of a small building. It stands motionless in the center with the eerie stillness of something that does not need to breathe yet it is alive.

The metallic sphere drifts up from the pool and presses itself against the creature's chest. The valve turns once more before sinking inward and vanishing completely into the black mass.

Then the entire form changes.

Muscles erupt across the surface, especially on the arms.

It closes both massive hands into fists and raises them in front of its blank face.

A fighting stance. This thing wants to fight.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me…" Yang breathes.

A sharp pulse of pain hits behind my eyes and I hiss involuntarily, my free hand coming up to press against my temple.

I blink hard.

For a second the thing in front of me isn't that black ooze. It's water.

Blue-white and translucent, lit from within by a light that moves like currents. The surrounding space isn't ruined buildings but brass metal and cables, floor plating and machinery, all working in perfect harmony.

I blink again.

And everything returns to normal.

I shake my head once and raise my shield.

"Everyone get ready!" Jeanne's voice cuts through the silence and snaps me back to reality. She's stepped up to my right, her weapon fully drawn.

And the rest of the weapons come fully up around me. The doctor's backpack hits the floor, and the sound of it is followed immediately by the ignition of his flamethrower.

"A liquid construct of entirely unknown origin demonstrating combat-ready autonomy! Extraordinary! I do hope we survive long enough for me to write this up properly!"

Excuse me? That's his priorities?!

"Doctor, focus," Pyrrha chastises him at least.

The creature's fists tighten.

Whatever it is, whatever mystery surrounds it, whatever that flash meant; none of that matters right now. It wants to fight, and we're going to fight.

I plant my feet, feel the weight of the shield on my arm, and breathe out slow.

The creature takes one step forward and the floor cracks more under the weight of it.