Plato's Inferno

Plato’s Inferno

“It was a dream every Truscarian had before adulthood. The ship with thirty-three sails carrying a civilization towards its next phase of evolution” – Truscarian scholars.

The water crashed against the wooden vessel, but it made no difference. The waves were merely water droplets to the giant ship carrying thousands of farmers, pot makers, politicians, iron makers, children and adults. The air filled his lungs with excitement and wonder as the vessel seemingly glided through the ocean water as if they were floating above it. The boy looked behind him and looked above to see the thirty-three sails stretching across the sky towards the horizon. Below them, the Truscarian civilization, who chatted and cheered to the hopes and promises of the new land and life ahead.

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm.

Marcus turned and saw the monster’s face. The old man’s blackened eyes glaring in rage as he screamed..

Marcus gasped for air as he woke up.

The smell of salt and straw filled his nose as he took a breath of the ocean’s wind and straw bedding he had slept on.

He’s finally had the dream. He was now an adult like his father, mother, and brother.

The nightmarish ending crawled and hid in the back of the young boy’s mind, as Marcus tried to remember it all, knowing his father would test him.

He got up and rushed out of the clay hut, towards the beach afar.

Athium began to bottle the heap of salt on the large stone. One of a dozen placed along the beach. The man looked up to see a small wooden boat pulling up to shore. His eldest son jumped out.

“How’s your spreading this time, Augustus?” he asked him as he put the cork into another bottle of salt.

The boy smiled and squinted his eyes against the sun, “I spread the net wider this time, like you said, father,” he replied.

Athium smiled and nodded his head, “That’s my boy”.

A shouting came from the hills behind them. A small black figure a few miles off was running closer to them. The echoing of a word grew louder and louder as the figure got closer.

“Father!” yelled Marcus, now running down the hill to meet them both. The boy’s leather sandals were on the verge of snapping apart the faster he ran.

Augustus smiled at his younger brother, but his father looked without amusement.

Marcus took a moment to catch some air before telling them about the dream.

“I said we get to work BEFORE the sun came up, Marcus. If you’re late then there will be no breakfast for you,” he told his younger son.

Marcus nodded his head almost sarcastically before finally catching his breath, “I’ve had the dream, father”.

His father shook his head in disbelief. Salty sweat dripped from his forehead.

“You’ve said that a few weeks ago, and a few weeks before that,” laughed his older brother.

Marcus looked at his brother Augustus unamused.

“Are you sure you had the dream?” asked his father, now seriously gazing at the boy.

Marcus stood up straighter, officially presenting himself, and nodded his head.

“It’s true, father. I have rightfully passed into adulthood,” he replied.

Athium raised an eye brow and looked at his older son before returning his gaze back to Marcus.

“You saw the sails?” he asked the boy.

Marcus nodded.

His father leaned, “How many were there?”

“Thirty-three sails, father,” replied Marcus. The scent of raw onion, tomato, and salted sardines drew from his father’s mouth. The young boy’s stomach started to grumble in hunger.

Athium nodded at the correct answer, then leaned in and whispered: “What COLOR were they?”

Marcus furloughed his brow, remembering the dream’s details before looking at his father’s gaze.

“White sails, father.”

The seriousness all of a sudden faded from his father’s expression, “That’s strange... Mine was purple” he replied in a playful tone, “What about yours, Augustus?”.

Augustus smiled and nodded his head, “a purple, lilac, color I remember”.

Athium and Augustus burst out laughing while Marcus stood in embarrassment. His face now reddening.

“I’ve had the dream father, I promise!” he yelled back, only to have met more of his father and brother’s laughing.

“You really want to go to the fighting arena that bad, don’t you,” smiled his father.

“A coincidence you had the dream the night before it,” chimed in Augustus who teased his young brother.

“I had it. Call me a liar one more time, Augustus,” replied Marcus in anger. He tensed his knuckles and looked at his older brother.

Augustus devilishly smiled back as if gesturing to his young brother to bring it on.

“None of that, Marcus,” said his father who hardened his voice, seeing the tension now rise between his two sons.

Athium leaned down, “did you have the dream or not? Don’t lie to me, boy.”

Marcus looked at his father’s bearded face and into his walnut-browned eyes, “This time I did, father. I promise you. The massive waves like water drops against the ship, the faces of our people cheering and shouting, the thirty-three sails gliding us over the ocean as if we were flying inches above it…”

Athium stared at his son and nodded his head.

“Then you will join your brother and I as an adult,” replied his father, patting his son’s head, “Your mother will make something special tonight when we all get back from the arena,” he smiled.

Marcus smiled and his eyes widened with excitement before grunting and lifting his chin up calmy and nodding his head as if something an adult would do in his mind.

“You’re standing like a man, now I really believe you,” his father teased, “make yourself useful and help your brother pull in the nets,” he told him.

There was a joy swelling up in Athium as he watched both of his sons run off in excitement. His two boys now young adults. Their mother Martha will be pleased when she hears the news at the Arena. He looked at the stoned sun dial beside him. It was almost time to go.

Chapter Two

“It is not death that a man should fear….”- Marcus Arealius

Iron swords swerved and slashed into the air. Splinters of long wooden shields cracked and crackled against the force of the gladiators fighting. The German gladiator, Frukta, had enough of the play time... had enough of the sound of no applause… Had enough of the weak opponent. His muscles suddenly flexed, his eyes became focused, and the sword moved in the direction he wanted. It was something his muscles learned to do through many years of fighting. It hit its mark.

The crowd applauded and cheered.

Frukta watched the crowd. Sweat and blood dripped down every part of his skin. Some part of injury and some part of spray.

He looked at the men and women. Equal amongst Truscarians.

He looked at those younger... Joining the games was part of their passage into adulthood. They need to see the ugly side of life- the blood, the fighting, the killing.

He was fighting for those children, just as he fought for his wife, son, and daughter. Eli and Mika still in his mind, giving him strength. Both died of famine while he was away at war with the eastern continent. A short vendetta amongst the politicians. Still…A furious burn of anger fueled his body within these contests. It was the only way he could make money peacefully. Otherwise, he would hurt someone again.

He walked towards the Arena’s exit to get patched up before the next fight.

He sat in room underneath the stadium seats as a woman put wax and honey on his face where several cuts began to congeal its blood.

Frukta watched through the cracks of the wooden door and saw the loser being carried out. There was no need for a doctor. He was dead.

Frukta sighed.

The woman looked at him, “You could always quit, Frukta. You’re not a slave here,” she said calmy.

“I am a slave to my anger, Martha. Better here than out there…” he replied.

She didn’t say anything.

“How’s your family?” he asked her.

She smiled, “My youngest boy, Marcus, had the dream last night,” she said.

Frukta smiled back. It was a precious thing to all Truscarians to witness a young child turn into a young man.

“I’ll give him a good-“

A man rushed into the room, “You’ll have to take a look at him again, he’s doing worse” he said breathing heavily.

Frukta nodded and Martha rushed off to see her other patient.

After a few moments he was told to enter the Arena once again.

Shouts of excitement filled the stadium’s air.

The messenger came out and calmed the crowd into silence….

“We’ve seen the champions win and fail under the God’s judgment… one more contestant awaits. Even the best of our gods cannot accept Frukta our winner without his higher council to judge him!” the messenger shouted.

Frukta waiting, gathering his strength and his pride. Waiting for the crowds to cheer again for him.

“Helgus”…the messenger began, looking into the crowd as if looking into every individual’s eye, “A place of demons and torment…” he continued.

Frukta listened quietly. All part of the script.

“We’ve brought a visitor from such a place. A demon…”

The crowd awed in fear and excitement.

“We welcome the warrior- Demius the Devil!” yelled the announcer.

The crowd cheered in awe, in fear, in excitement and fun.

Frukta watched as the wooden doors in the arena slowly opened. He tightened his grip and readied himself.

A shadow peered under the door as the crowd awed in excitement.

A figure walked out from underneath the stadium. He wore dark animal fur around him, with glass beads and bones hanging off his garment. A deer skull covering his face.

He was walking slow, leaning forward as if catching his next step.

Pretending to be lifeless, thought Frukta. A demon from Helgus.

The stadium was silent.

Frukta walked forward with his sword ready and saw the man’s breathing in a panic.

Something’s not right, thought Frukta, or was it a ruse?

His opponent didn’t take out his sword, but stumbled forward.

He fell to his knees and the crowd awed and chatted in confusion.

The skull mask fell off his head and the man had burns and blisters all over his face. Blood was coming out of his eyes.

The crowd drew back in disgust, seeing the spores of decaying skin.

There was no honor in this, he knew. Frukta dropped his sword and ran over, grabbing the man before he fell forward.

“What in Helga…” he whispered, watching the man in his arms begin to choke on his own blood and vomit.

Several medicine men alongside Martha ran out into the Arena. One heading to the announcer, whispering something as they dragged the dying man out of the Arena.

The announcer listened and looked worried, but nodded as he tried to regain himself.

It took a second to regain composure, but the announcer threw his hands up, “The Devil must go back to Helga!” he shouted, “The God’s have chosen their champion! Frukta!!”.

The silent crowd suddenly began cheering in awe of the theatrics.

Frukta stood in the middle of the Arena as the announcer claimed him victorious.

A strange feeling passed over him. He was dizzy. He smiled and began to walk through the doors under the Arena.

Something was wrong…

Chapter Three

Misery

Misery followed days after the event. A sickness plagued Truscarians. Mothers, fathers, everyone- The God’s spared no one to the spreading death.

Augustus and Marcus watched the priest burned his parent’s corpse. They were told not to touch them when they fell ill to the blisters and burns that marked their skin.

Marcus cried for days and days after.

More and more corpses.

The smell.

The chaos.

The misery for years.

The misery…

Marcus and Augustus had both split ways the years after their parent’s death and the plague started. Augustus became a politician, and Marcus aimlessly traveling across the continent in search of the plague’s source.

It was then he found it.

Marcus stood at the stairs he found in the desert going down to into the darkness. A smell came from it- a mix of something. A strange odor alongside a smell he was all to familiar with- death.

He began walking into the abyss below him.

Chapter Four

Two roads diverge for Sisyphus and Prometheus

Marcus found himself in front of two paths.

The right one was fully black with a sign in his own language: “Take the fire to the end”.

He looked at the stone walls and saw a torch and beside it a burning fire pit.

The left one had light, but seemed to be going uphill. In front of the path was a large stone with a sign that read: “Take the boulder to the end”.

A test? Or a trick?

Either way, thought Marcus, he needed to get to the center of this inferno. There was no going back to the death that plagued the world above.

He grabbed the torch and lit it, walking into the darkness.

Marcus walked slowly as the torch guided him further. The cave was quiet. The smell of the cave walls was damp and moldy.

As he kept going his heart was beating faster. His eyes were becoming dizzy. He was seeing shadows move like monsters running from the light. Something was here with him, he felt. His heart was now racing on and on when suddenly the torch light extinguished in midair.

Marcus was in complete darkness as panic began to set in.

“No, please no,” he whispered in fear as he pressed himself to the cave wall.

He felt like voices were echoing in the distance. Grunts and growls were right in front of him. Nightmares filled his mind as he hugged the cave wall, walking back to the beginning.

The boy threw himself to the ground when he saw the grim sunlight at the beginning of the path.

Augustus… I wish you were here, he thought. Hoping the letter had reached him.

Moments of doubt filled him, but he remembered his mother and father dying to the plague he wished to stop.

He needed to continue.

He lit the torch again and continued into the darkness. Again, it extinguished as if some creature he couldn’t see blew it out. He tried again and again. Each time his heart was racing and the paranoia of shadows fueled his fright.

“There’s no way,” he said to himself.

He looked at the first path which had sunlight gleaming through.

The boulder was half his size. The God’s have blessed it to be perfectly round, as It rolled smoothly, but the path began to go up and Marcus found himself struggling.

It smelled like something was rotting in the air, a foul smell the further he pushed the boulder.

His throat was becoming irritated and his head began to hurt. The boulder felt 4x heavier.

Marcus ended up dropping it several times, only to find himself walking back to the beginning to push it once again from the start.

“This is impossible,” he said out loud, finding himself back to the beginning of the two impossible paths.

The torch, he thought, maybe if he carried two fires with him.

Marcus wrapped a piece of his clothing around the path sign, and lit it alongside the torch he had.

He walked into the darkness holding the two fires in the air.

Its like the devil was in the air. His heart raced and his mind began to panic and ache.

He watched the torches carefully as he walked when all of a sudden he swore he saw a ghostly breath extinguish them.

Was there a monster with him, he thought.

Then he heard it. Footsteps of something walking into the darkness.

The demon was here.

He grabbed the wall and began running blindly to the entrance as the footsteps began to follow him.

Marcus was nearly going to faint from the fear he felt as the monster’s footsteps were now catching up to him.

As the light hit his eyes, Marcus felt something grab his shoulder.

He swung around and fell backwards, arms in the air to fend it off.

“Marcus?!” gasped a voice.

Marcus closed his eyes and tried to shuffle out of the monster’s grip before hearing his name called once again.

He stopped and slowly opened his eyes, seeing human hands restrain his flailing arms.

“Augustus?” he whispered, half believing it was a dream.

His older brother smiled, “You are one crazy brother, Marcus,” he replied.

Marcus could tell he felt un easy about this place too.

They walked to the beginning of the path where it was lighter.

Augustus explained that he got the letter about finding the source of the plague. The entrance to Helga, a place of evil.

“I couldn’t let my brother go on a suicide mission,” said Augustus.

“People are dying more and more, the difference is that I’ll die trying to fix all this,” replied Marcus.

“Who asked you to fix all this?” replied his older brother.

“Our mother and father…His mother and father…Her mother and father, Everyone’s mother and father, Augustus,” yelled Marcus.

They’ve had this fight many times.

Augustus said nothing, but nodded his head gently in understanding. He looked at his young brother, “So how do we get through this,” he said, looking down the two diverged paths.

Marcus explained to him what has happened in these two paths.

Augustus nodded his head in thought as his brother continued talking.

“One path we can’t get to the end, but one we can,” replied Augustus in thought.

“What about the boulder?” replied Marcus.

His older brother looked down the first path, “Who’s to say we need to? The sign? Let’s see where the path goes without the boulder, Marcus.”

Marcus agreed with him. It was nearly impossible to move the boulder uphill anyway, he thought.

They had continued for nearly an hour. The smell of something like eggs rotting filled the air, but became distance towards the end of the path.

It was a wall covered in some kind of fungus. On the wall was a torch holder.

Marcus agreed that they should try bringing the lit torch, but part of him assumed it would extinguish like the path into the darkness.

It didn’t.

Augustus nodded to his brother to put the torch in the holder on the wall, but when he did it, the fire extinguished.

He returned to the start, lit the torch, and tried again. It extinguished only when he put the torch into the wall holder.

It was the not until the 4th try that Marcus felt it…

A strange air near his fingers.

Augustus put his hands on the wall where the torch holder was and agreed there was something strange about it. He moved his hands to the side and tore of some of the shrub covering the cave wall.

There it was- the source of the strange air- a hole in the wall.

“From the other cave,” he said to Marcus.

His younger brother looked at him in confusion, “What does that mean?” he asked.

Augustus was deep in thought when he finally found the answer, “It means, my dear brother, that the boulder was never meant to come this way, nor the torch the other path…”.

It took a moment for Marcus to finally realize what he was talking about. Then it clicked.

Some air in the other cave is extinguishing the torch, and there’s a hole that’s leaking it over here.

“We need to take the boulder and block the hole in the other path, then we can place the lit torch on the wall,” he said.

It is a test, thought Marcus. Or a warning to ward off anyone going further…

Through the darkness they pushed the boulder, and in faith each of them prayed they wouldn’t fall to their doom in the darkness. They had found the hole on the side of the cave, and they looked in to see the light of the other cave shining in. The brothers pushed the boulder and blocked it.

The torch was lit and they placed it on the wall’s holder.

Suddenly the black fungus immediately burst into flame and burned off, revealing a strange metallic door with a wheel attached to it.

Marcus and Augustus stood in silence for a moment and with each of them nodding their heads to one another, they twisted the wheel, pulled the door open, and stepped into the other side.

Chapter Five

Kafka’s Labyrinth

Human skeletons littered the floor beneath them. The iron walls around them were blackened with that same mold that covered the door. Something told Marcus that bringing the torch here would not be a good idea. It would be a death trap.

“We should have brought a sword,” whispered Augustus, slowly eying the dim-lit area around them.

“I’ve come prepared,” whispered Marcus, taking out a short sword from his leather belt.

Augustus rolled his eyes in disbelief, “It might as well be a toothpick, Marcus, really? You’ve brought a toothpick to the bowls of Helga.”

Marcus looked at his brother, “I have my toothpick. What did you bring? You’re fancy Politician’s clothes? I’m sure any beast will eat the politician first, so maybe I should thank you”.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d come this far, I figured I’d talk some sense into you” his older brother replied, face red in embarrassment. Before he was about to argue, he saw Marcus go stiff.

They became quiet as a earie sound echoed through the many corridors. They weren’t sure how far it was or where it was coming from. Both waiting in a few moments of silence before continuing.

There were more metal doors that led to more and more doors.

Skeletons and torn, ragged, clothing were everywhere they looked.

It reminded them of their misery. This would be how the world above will look like this world below, thought Marcus, skeletal remains of a civilization gone.

How so many Truscarians made it here, he didn’t know.

Another turn. Another room. Another floor of skeletons.

“We’ve been here for hours, Marcus, and it looks like we’re going around in circles,” said his brother.

“How do you know we’ve gone in circles? I don’t remember this place,” replied Marcus.

Augustus leaned down and picked up a piece of cloth which was torn from his clothing, holding it up in the air.

“These fancy politician clothes ended up serving us well, I’d say,” replied Marcus.

Marcus looked and realized there was a trail of his torn garment. He leaned down and sat against the wall in defeat as Augustus slid himself down next to him.

The reminder of the death their people would come to was all around them.

“For all we know these people did the same thing,” began Augustus looking at the skeletons and imagining the faces they would have had, “ They came here to find something, and walked around for ages, soon they became lost and perished in all the misery of it,” he said.

“It couldn’t have ended here,” thought Marcus, “This has to be another test.”

“Or a trap” replied his older brother.

Another noise suddenly echoed in the labyrinth. They had heard it several times, but couldn’t find the source as if it was changing places each time they got close.

This time it didn’t quiet down as Marcus and his brother listened to it through a metallic door.

“Have we been inside of this one?” whispered Marcus.

“No, we haven’t,” replied Augustus who pointed at another door.

Marcus looked closer and realized there was a charcoal mark near the rotating handle.

Augustus lifted up a small piece of charcoal, “It seems my brain is a little sharper than that toothpick, my dear brother”.

Marcus rolled his eyes before they both twisted the wheel on the door. They opened it and stared inside.

Nothing. It was an empty room.

“The acoustics here are misleading us. Causing us to go around and around in search for a noise,” said Augustus.

“Back to the beginning once again,” said Marcus.

“True words exactly” said a voice behind them.

Marcus immediately took out his sword and twisted his body around.

Both of the brothers looked in shock.

It was a young girl.

“Visitors from above,” she spoke.

Marcus and Augustus remained quietly starring at the thing in front of them.

It looked like a young girl, but something was missing. Something in the eyes…

It was a strange feeling, but both the brothers could see something lifeless from it.

“You’re a demon,” said Augustus.

The small girl looked at him before answering, “to you perhaps I am”.

“What are you hoping to find here?” asked the girl.

“A source of the plague that’s killing our people, and a cure” replied Augustus.

It seemed to spark something. The demon didn’t say anything, but the girl’s body flinched.

It finally spoke as if contemplating a thousand decisions all at once: “That door over there, that you’ve passed nearly a dozen times…”

“We’ve been inside,” interrupted Augustus, “I’ve been marking the doors..”

“With charcoal, yes,” she interrupted, lifting a piece of her own, “You haven’t been through that one.”

The girl looked at Marcus, “YOU will go through that door, and I will take your brother to another one,” she told them.

How did she know we were brothers, thought Marcus. This was a trap, he thought.

“I am not leaving my brother,” said Augustus.

“It’s either you leave your brother or you die right here,” said the girl in a firm, unhuman tone.

Marcus looked at his brother in silence and finally nodded to him.

The girl next to Augustus watched Marcus walk over and open the door, stepping inside, and closing it shut behind him.

Inside was a chair, a table, and a strange square object with a crystal mirror in it.

The first thing Marcus noticed was the floor. It was the only room they’ve been to without any human remains on it.

Near the roof of the small room they were in, Marcus noticed a strange iron bird with flashing red eyes perched in the corner of the ceiling.

The square object with the large mirroring crystal suddenly lit up which made Marcus jump back in fright.

It was also making sounds. The God of Helga, thought Marcus.

Moving images flashed across the screen.

A large cylinder shape object.

Metallic demons in the air. Iron wings frozen still.

The cylinder made of some sort of iron falling from the sky.

Was this the history of Helga…

Suddenly images flashed across the strange contraption showing people in odd clothing.

People dying. Rashes, burns, boils and blood.

There was no denying the similarity. Marcus knew it all too well. It was the same plague the Truscarian people suffered.

Was this a vision of their future?

Suddenly the machine turned black before suddenly showing Truscarian words: “Press red button to destroy a village and find what you seek, or drink poison to save them.

On the table there was a large red contraption and next to it was the poison.

Was this a test? This had to be…

Marcus hovered his hand over the button before something in him hesitated.

What if this was true, what if he was killing people…

Many more will die if you don’t find a cure, said a voice in his head.

He swallowed hard as sweat dripped down his head.

He had come all this way, he couldn’t end it here.

Who cares if its children or families… No one would know.. said the voice in his head.

Memories of his happy childhood filled his head. His father catching fish, and his mother cutting up vegetables. Him and his brother laughing and teasing one another.

His mother and father were now dead…

But he could save others…

Killing another family for the sake of saving everyone else…

Do it…Press the button…

Marcus closed his eyes and suddenly brought the bottle to his lips…swallowing the poison inside.

Chapter Six

The Boatman

The water crashed against the wooden vessel, but it made no difference. At least at first. The waves were merely water droplets to the giant ship carrying thousands of farmers, pot makers, politicians, iron makers, children and adults. Then it crashed like rocks amongst a bubble. The air filled his lungs with excitement and wonder as the vessel seemingly glided through the ocean water as if they were floating above it. Then stench filled the air and it sunk below the ocean. The boy looked behind him and looked above to see the thirty-three sails stretching across the sky towards the horizon.

The ship was sinking and the people onboard were covered in blisters, burns, and blood.

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm.

Marcus gasped for air as he woke up.

He could feel his body covered in a cold sweat.

A fire crackled next to him.

He was in room full of bottles and liquids of different kinds.

The floor had extravagant rugs.

“You’re awake,” a deep cracked voice said from the end of the room.

Marcus then noticed he was on a bed of pillows.

“Am I dead?” he asked, still not seeing anyone in the room with him.

A figure suddenly walked from behind a tall book shelf.

Marcus watched the old man walk towards him. He wore a perfectly white robe and walked as if his body was years younger than his face. As the old man walked closer Marcus noticed there were no wrinkles, but smooth skin. His eyes were lifeless like that little girl he had met.

The figure sat in a chair and looked at the young man, “No you are not dead,” he told him.

Marcus then looked around to notice he was alone with him, “Where’s my brother?” he asked.

“Unconscious, but safe. You two will return above-ground shortly,” the old man replied.

The stranger stood up, “Lily has told me that those above are cursed by the plague. You have my condolences”.

Marcus could only think that Lily was that demon girl they met. He shared the same lifeless eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked him.

The old man looked at Marcus calmly, “Remanence of something ancient…” he told him.

The man continued, “It is because you drank the poison that I granted audience with you; A rare bravery you’ve shown,” he told him.

“I need to find a cure; I must save my people,” said Marcus.

The old man shook his head, “impossible, there is no cure to what fell on your people”

“I must find one!” shouted Marcus in anger.

A shadow caught their attention, “there is one place to find something to help,” said a girl’s voice.

The demon girl, Lily, walked next to them, “The hospital wing on the 7th floor of the bunker…” she continued, looking at the man then to Marcus.

Lifeless eyes, thought Marcus.

“That is not a cure, Lily,” the man replied in a stern voice.

“No, their people are in the first stages of radiation poisoning; The medicine might postpone any further symptoms from developing,” she said, “It might give their people a chance to escape this continent”.

Radiation, thought Marcus, was that the name of whatever this is?

“And go where, Lily? Who can escape this plague?” said the man.

“If there is a chance to save my people, then I’ll gladly take it” interrupted Marcus, “I’d rather risk finding hope, then doom our people,” he told them.

There was a moment of silence.

Marcus thought of the dream- Thirty Three sails guiding a civilization towards its next evolution. It felt like destiny. He needed to find the medicine, heal his people, and escape this whatever this was.

“I will find the medicine” he told them.

The old man silently starred at Marcus. There was a tension in the air.

“There are things down there beyond you’re understanding,” he told him, “There is a good chance you will fail and die,” he told him.

Marcus nodded, “If I don’t go then I’ll die anyway. Might as well die trying…”

Both the man and the girl’s lifeless eyes looked at him. It was decided I would try.

The man promised Marcus to give Augustus a message when he wakes up in the world above.

The Well, from what he was told, was the only way to reach the bottom layer.

Lily guided Marcus through different rooms and hallways, Marcus tried to make sense of what the old man was talking about. These cylinders dropping on cities, destroying the world long ago.

“You and that man share those same eyes. What are you?” he asked the girl.

“We are an artificially intelligent robot called Androids” replied the girl in monotone.

There was a moment of silence before Lily knew it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“I may look human, but I am a machine built by humans,” she told him.

The very thought made Marcus speechless. A machine so human-like. Her answer posed more questions and answers.

As Lily turned and opened a door, Marcus suddenly noticed a Well in the center of the room.

“There’s an underground lake you will drop into which will get you to 3rd floor,” she told him.

Marcus nodded, remembering the 7th floor was where he’d find the medicine.

“I will take an alternative route and meet up with you,” she told him.

Marcus was confused, “Where are you going?” he asked.

Lily looked at Marcus with that lifeless expression, “I have a body on the inside, so I must transfer my consciousness to it…”

The words went above his head.

She looked at him, “Think of it like a dream. I sleep and find myself over there,” she said.

“That only made it more confusing,” he replied, “But whatever it is, I will see you on the other side then,” he said.

Lily left the room.

Marcus looked into the darkness. He thought he heard screaming and shouting, but he didn’t know if it was just his mind playing tricks.

He thought of his mother and father. He thought of his brother. It was the courage he needed. Marcus needed to stop this radiation, this plague, upon his world. By the God’s he will find the cure.

Marcus tightened the bag the man gave him and gripped his sword, breathing in the damp and dusty air. He took a breath in and jumped inside, falling into the foul-smelling darkness below…

“It was a dream every Truscarian had before adulthood. The ship with thirty-three sails carrying a civilization towards its next phase of evolution” – Truscarian scholars.

To Be Continued…