UE Rewrite: B5 — 1. The Black Fortress Rises
Added 2025-05-16 21:06:45 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Elinor (Our Lich Empress!)
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Wind whipped around Elinor as she moved along the railing of the observation platform, located on the palace’s tenth floor. It was the highest they’d been able to get before hitting sealed doors and force fields.
The railing might as well be an expansive sidewalk with its width. The circular balcony offered an unobstructed view in all directions, revealing the breathtaking expanse of Nethermore stretching to the horizon—approximately by twenty-four kilometers.
She could hardly see the walls in the distance, barely visible from the central point of the colossal city. Beyond them would be the outer wall and two moats—three hundred feet of impenetrable black granite-like rock that extended for miles.
Her emerald gaze traced the eight massive boulevards cutting through the fortress-city like spokes on a wheel. Each radiated from the Administrative Core, slicing through concentric rings of districts that disappeared into a distant haze. thirty-two by twenty-four kilometers of pure architectural dominance—a testament to Ke’Thra’Ma’s vision and ruthless execution.
Sunlight glinted off metal surfaces and runic patterns embedded in ancient stone. Entire sections of the city lay dormant, power fluctuations visible as districts flickered between shadow and dim illumination. The scale defied comprehension; standing here felt like overlooking a country rather than a fortress… And it was all hers.
“One week,” Elinor murmured, her voice nearly lost in the wind. “One week, and we’ve explored but a tiny fraction of this wonder.”
A flicker of orange light reflected in the black stone railing as Tiffany joined her atop the tall, open railing, the Witch Queen’s energy dancing around her fingertips as she surveyed the vista. She’d been attempting to see things more as her mother, though it was a work in progress.
Without speaking, she handed Elinor a slender metal object, her eyes dancing with fascinated delight—a pen-like device the size of a meter-stick and weighing about as much, despite its bulk, recovered from an administrative office. She’d been pouring over it for the past few days since the moment they managed to get into one of the rooms within the palace’s left wing.
Elinor turned it over in her fingers. Intricate runic patterns illuminating momentarily at her touch with subtle pulses of blue light, shifting beneath its surface before fading away.
“Notice how the engravings reconfigure themselves,” Tiffany eagerly noted, leaning closer. “It’s reacting to not your energy signature…but your soul itself! It can shrink its size if you so much as desire it. This technology goes beyond the purely physical world.”
She traced a finger along the device’s sleek length, her orange witchfire briefly connecting with the blue runes. “The complexity is staggering. I’ve been studying it for days and still can’t determine where the power source is located since I can’t even peer past its surface, let alone how the information transfer between soul and device works.”
“If it responds to desire, isn’t that the preferred method of activating it?” Elinor asked, watching as a symbol near the tip ignited again and rotated in response to her probing grip. “I assume you’ve already tried that, though, which could mean there are safeties or even a particular soul signature bonded to it.”
Tiffany withdrew her hand with a rueful smile. “A good hypothesis, sweetie, but I can’t say one way or another. I don’t know where to begin since it is the only one we’ve been able to find thus far, but the quen’talrat you’ve raised confirms it is the artistic tool used in creating runic patterns. This technology is beyond anything in my grimoire. I could take it to Evelyn, but…”
Elinor’s vision narrowed, darting to her tight-lipped mother, looking off to the side and now gripping her hands at her front. “I told you that I don’t want you seeing her until I’ve had a chance to clear the air after her…proposal to you that so twisted your soul inside. She knows how to manipulate you too easily.”
Her mother’s shoulders fell slightly but a small smile lifted her mouth. “It really does spark something within my soul to hear you so concerned for my safety… Yes, I admit that I was in somewhat of an identity crisis. Your father is doing his best to help with that,” she added, showing an almost girly grin once meeting her eyes again. “All thanks to a certain blunt daughter.”
She gave the witch an expectant stare after handing the pen back and placing a defiant hand on her hip. “I told you to come to a decision, not hide in research and try not to rock the boat. This is something you need to decide. Split in two halves or unify. Nungal seemed to have enough foresight to add potential amendments to that arrangement into our contract.”
The black-haired woman shrank the pen with a thought and adjusted her thematic witches hat—apparently her father rather enjoyed it now as a part of her identity. A conflicted growl rumbled in the Witch Queen’s throat before she placed the device back into her shoulder bag.
“I know this is a huge decision that affects our whole family. I’m…cautiously optimistic,” she admitted, glancing down to catch sight of the dozens of quen’talrat Elinor had raised from the mines to support the relocation effort and provide guidance in the city. “I’m not trying to stall… I just want to truly know if this behavior of your father will stick… That I can reciprocate those feelings in a way that is…fair to not only him, but you.”
Elinor looked up at the bright, nearly cloudless sky that stretched out across the southern half of the city. “See, that is an appropriate response, despite how uncomfortable it was for you to tell me.”
“Yes, well, it’s still quite challenging to separate the daughter from the empress,” her mother groaned. “I am doing my best.”
“Empress…”
Elinor’s gaze returned to the giant gorillas below as Ash’s voice connected through the Nexus. Each of the gorillas stood fifteen feet tall, looking like children’s toys from this height as they maneuvered supplies through the inner courtyard. The massive gorilla-like beings seemed dwarfed by their surroundings, the doorways and archways built for beings twice their size—built for Ke’Thra’Ma.
Is it done?
“Yes, Ka’Vina finished the rough outline of the city.”
We will be there soon.
Using the ramp she’d had constructed to get atop the railing, they descended to the floor, which immediately cut the sharp wind as if it didn’t exist at all; the runic technology, by Tiffany’s estimation. Entering the palace’s grand interior, they proceeded toward the corner, where they used the palace’s grand spiral staircase.
Rather than take each step, designed for quen’talrat feet that would require a small jump for human legs, she boarded the thélméthra drone she had waiting with Tiffany.
On their rapid path through the various floors to the grand ballroom and branching wings of the fifth to first floor, Elinor studied the murals that covered the walls. They depicted the rise of Ke’Thra’Ma’s empire in scenes of conquest and subjugation of his own people in their motherland north of here—the barren and resource scarce plains.
“Subtle propaganda,” Tiffany remarked, gesturing toward a particularly vivid depiction of various ri’bot clans and yaltha’ma bowing before the White God. “Remind the servants of their place every time they use the stairs… Intriguing that we don’t hear anything at all about any ri’bot in the city, yet they were clearly here.”
I asked the yaltha’ma about that yesterday, Elinor commented, not finding that story particularly captivating. They vanished via a mass teleportation, at least by their description. Likely done by one of the Kings or Queens is my guess. For what? We’ll find out eventually.
They passed through a grand hallway where her father was leading members of Elinor’s Serving Court toward the right wing. There, they’d learn to operate the massive washing facilities that he’d been studying. They required a place to clean things, and the quen’talrat believed in public bathing rooms.
Once again, it was operated via runic technology with mysterious ways that the water actually fell from the ceiling. The room was built for a thirty-foot-tall gorilla in mind, with space to spare, so there was plenty of area to section it off and build gender segregated zones.
“We will be constructing personalized bathing zones in time, but for now we’re just dividing it by gender,” he noted, directing them toward the hallway. “We’ll include laundry and other similar areas in the short term… Tiffany.”
Her father spotted them immediately, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Tiffany. He gave a brief instruction to the maid beside him before hopping gracefully onto the passing thélméthra drone, leaving the women staring wide-eyed at his sudden departure.
“Perfect timing,” he chuckled, landing beside the witch with practiced ease as Elinor brought the arachnid to a halt. His dark armor gleamed against the black stone as he leaned in and planted his lips on the stunned witch. “Heading to the west wing, hmm?”
“E-Edmon!” she blustered, gaze darting to the bright-eyed women.
“I was hoping to catch you today. Would you be willing to examine the cooking room with me later? I need your expertise on activating the burner systems. The runic configurations are unlike anything in the washing facilities.”
Tiffany’s orange witchfire flickered more intensely as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I… Yes, of course. For, umm, research purposes?”
“Edmon, is it really proper to normalize this behavior in front of the staff?” she internally choked.
“Is normalizing this bad?” Edmon asked, a crooked smile lifting his lips as Tiffany squirmed inside and he bent down for a second peck on the lips. “Give them something to gossip about.”
Elinor felt the flutter of emotion through the Nexus—her mother’s nervous excitement radiating like heat. The butterflies in the witch’s stomach were practically visible, her composure cracking under the gaze of several wide-eyed maids who were all moving to get a better, unapologetic view at the flushed witch.
“You’re the one giving them a story here,” Elinor replied, enjoying her mother’s discomfort perhaps more than she should. “Can I get a kiss back?”
“How about a slap instead of a kiss? How would that go for rumors?”
“Careful,” her dad privately mused, “my armor’s pretty hard back there.”
“Wha—you’re incorrigible!”
Tiffany cleared her throat, adjusting her thematic witch’s hat in an attempt to hide her face from the women as she turned away. She couldn’t hide the smile from Elinor, though.
“We should proceed to the strategic room and you should finish your preparations for the baths… The sooner that finishes, the sooner I can educate you in the kitchen.”
Her father’s grin widened and he leaned in to give her a softer, more lingering kiss to the forehead. “It’s a date. Text me?”
“Like this is texting,” Tiffany chuckled as he hopped back down, turning his back deliberately to open up a ‘slap’ that Elinor was surprised didn’t come. “How can you be more forward than me now… I’m going to have to punish you for embarrassing me like this.”
“Promise? Maybe we should make another bet, the last one went so well for you.”
Elinor withheld a snicker while steering their ride toward the grand hallway to the left of the entrance, saving her mother from exposing strawberry pink cheeks.
They proceeded toward the west wing, passing through corridors built for giants, where Elinor’s forces had managed to clear enough debris to establish functional pathways. The thélméthra drone carried them swiftly through a grand archway toward the sole room they’d managed to open in this section of the palace.
However, right now, her focus wasn’t on the opulent displays but the stunning picture of what she could only describe as a vision into the past—her mother. A small smile played at the corner of her lips as she shared even further private conversations with her husband, rekindling something they likely hadn’t shared since their dating days.
Elinor reconciled to let them have their privacy.
Slowly, she could feel a part of her mother returning, even without the ritual itself, and that magic, or blame, rested solely on her father’s lips.
Tiffany abruptly cleared her throat but was unable to hide her twisted hands at her front. “So, we’ve, umm, ahem… We’ve identified forty-three distinct command gestures so far with the runes, Emp—I mean, Elinor. Open, close, increase, decrease, purify—the language is surprisingly intuitive once you grasp the basic logic…”
Don’t mind me and keep passing letters, Elinor chortled. It’s good for morale to see you two acting…human. They already see me as something beyond that, so someone needs to show a bit more of that connection.
Her mother’s shoulders fell a tad in defeat, only it was welcomed, not resisted. “Thank you, sweetie. I’m feeling almost…normal.”
Entering the strategic planning room had been transformed into a makeshift command center, Elinor let the witch exit the conversation.
Human-sized tables and chairs had been brought in, looking like dollhouse furniture beside the original stone furnishings. In the center, an enormous map lay spread across a table built for beings three times human height.
Ka’Vina carefully spread out her recently crafted maps across the giant desk while three other quen’talrat—all resurrected from the mines—hovered nearby, their postures betraying their discomfort at being in chambers once reserved for military elites.
One of them, a male with patchy gray fur and a slightly hunched posture, shuffled forward at Elinor’s entrance. Meno’rah, who had the most extensive knowledge regarding the runic processes thus far, which wasn’t saying much.
His eyes darted nervously around the room as if expecting punishment for his presence. “T-The…district mapping is as complete as we could make it under our combined knowledge, Empress,” he said, gesturing toward the central map with oversized hands. “Though much remains speculation.”
Elinor approached the table, taking in the intricate rendering of Nethermore. Colored markers for kids indicated security status throughout the fortress: green for accessible areas, yellow for partially accessible, red for sealed zones, and black for unknown regions. The sea of red and black were overwhelming, with only small islands of green clustered around the Administrative Core.
“These checkpoint markers,” she indicated points placed along major thoroughfares, “what’s their status?”
“Force fields, Empress,” Meno’rah explained, his massive finger hovering over one junction where three districts met. Ash was making his way inside as they spoke. “Most remained active after the fall. The automated systems maintain lockdown protocols even with reduced power.”
He traced the boundary between the Administrative Core and the Research & Development District. “Here the barriers flicker occasionally. We believe it’s due to power fluctuations. Some of our scouts managed to slip through during a failure, which is how Queen Camellia located her sister.”
“And the security response?”
Ka’Vina answered this time, her deeper knowledge of military systems from the mines evident. “Lethal, Empress. The automated defenses remain partially active despite power limitations and operating at their lowest function. I’m sure you’re already aware, but…three unintelligent scouts didn’t return from our first and second probes…here and here.”
Elinor studied the pattern of sealed districts, noting the concentration of red markers around the Inner Ring. They were locked inside with their only current entrance being from the mines. “What about these?”
“The Military Command District,” Ka’Vina immediately stated with a shiver, potentially recalling something from her past. “Triple-layered security with genetic authentication. No access without a general’s direct authorization or the presence of a Blood Ruler. It…may be possible to gain access to some areas reserved for Elite Hunter recruits with Quin’Alse’s natural access, if she wasn’t removed from the registry.”
“That seems more likely than not after the testing we’ve done,” Elinor noted with a hum, vision rising as a pale horse trotted through the doorway. “Ash, what’s the latest from the mines?”
“Black is continuing to explore the tunnel complex and locating quite a few disposal areas that Ka’Vina pointed us to,” he reported. “She’s discovered a few tunnels that were not a part of her maps, potentially built after the fall of the empire, but she’s putting her effort into gathering as many bodies as she can find onto the railway.”
Excellent. How about discovering any pathway to the inner or outer walls to lower the city-wide shield?
“Already solved, supposedly.”
Reading between the lines, Elinor sighed. The yaltha’ma have been helpful, but also unreliable with their information. Until the path is fully mapped out, I’ll treat their assurances as wishful thinking. How far have they actually—
“Empress, may I intervene. It’s urgent.” A flicker of energy pulsed through the Nexus brought Carlos’ message. “El’Ra’Ca finally remembered which maintenance tunnels to reach the Agricultural District, Level 7…”
“Now that is phenomenal news!” Tiffany cheered, listening in. “At least, we can expand our silk plant project to deliver our promised goods to the Clavex.”
“Yeah, about that… You should see this for yourself, Empress. We have access to the floor below from here, and it’s…something.”
Elinor took one last look at the evolving grand map of the city, including the many other pieces that showed the levels, earth construction paper they’d used. A few of the maids had helped the quen’talrat with the actual drawing part. They’d uncovered less than 1% of the city’s mysteries. It truly felt like it might take forever to actually map it out.
Carlos has found something in the Agricultural District that requires my attention, she announced to the gathering through the Nexus. We have our base map. Ash, maintain operations here and further fill out details. Mom, with me.
Returning to her temporary throne with Tiffany, the arachnid skittered off. Elinor could feel Camellia’s restlessness spike momentarily, which meant the security drones were likely reaching their more active state near her little sister. They still didn’t have a way to free her without potentially alerting the entire city to them as a threat, but they were working on it.
The journey to the Agricultural District required traversing service tunnels never meant for human passage but her mount managed it with grace, following Carlos’ instructions.
Runic lighting flickered intermittently, casting long shadows as they navigated corridors that occasionally opened into vast maintenance chambers. Exposed pipes and conduits ran along the ceilings, carrying who knew what through them. But it soon became clear that the further away they got from the Administration District, the more runic technology took over.
It seems the renovations were started near the edges of the city instead of the center… Interesting.
Upon exiting the tunnels to an underground passageway into the outer ring of Level 6, they reached a junction where the tunnel widened. Ahead of them, massive doors leading to…something stood partially open, jammed in position by some malfunction. Even half-open, the entry was large enough for three quen’talrat to walk through side by side. Beyond, an incomprehensible vastness stretched before them.
The thélméthra stepped through the threshold and stopped, leaving Elinor momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer scale. The agricultural level didn’t just contain growing spaces—it was an entire ecosystem enclosed within the fortress. The ceiling took up all six levels from where they stood to the surface, hover platforms apparently used to reach each one.
At the edges, hundreds of feet above were free, while the far walls were so distant they disappeared into haze. The vast green zones seemed to float freely, shimmering patterns of runes occasionally flashing across their bottom at erratic intervals, potentially signalling certain failures.
Artificial suns of some kind—probably through the gem technology—were embedded in the ceiling of the floating island that, if it fell, would press into oblivion whatever was below it. It could potentially cave in the other layers.
Elinor couldn’t help but watch them cast inconsistent light across the landscape with awe, though—some blazing at full intensity, others dimmed or completely dark, creating a patchwork of light and shadow across the vast floor.
In the illuminated areas, wild growth had overtaken once-orderly cultivation beds, creating a jungle of evolved plant life. Massive vines as thick as a human torso draped between pillars, while strange flowers the size of dinner plates tracked their movement with eyeless vigilance.
If one of these falls…
“Yeah, it would be bad,” Carlos mumbled, approaching with two quen’talrat disgraced researchers and a few intrigued humans, including Gwen and Lucky, who were identifying what they needed to bring to the location. “They seem to operate on a different protocol than the main power grid, or so Talea’Usia believes. They may even be charged by a solar grid.”
Interesting, Elinor mumbled as Tiffany went to further clarify that a few of her witches needed to return with them. What do we know?
“What do I know for certain? We discovered this last night but didn’t want to make the trek back to report until we had more data. We already confirmed it’s almost ten square miles on this level alone,” he stated, gesturing at the endless display of strange trees and vegetation. “And this is just one of the agricultural sections that…is this floor.”
“How many others are there?” Elinor smiled, still taking in the impossible scale. “This could easily accommodate ten times our current numbers.”
“That’s the thing, Empress, when I said it is this floor, I meant that this is a single floor, despite looking as if they combined some. There are at least three more just like this that we’ve confirmed above it,” Carlos clarified. “Levels 5 to 7 have different climate configurations. Level 7 appears to be tropical, while 5 is more temperate. The floor above us seems designed for staple crops and larger livestock…but that’s not what I called you to see. We were able to gain access to what appears to be a restricted zone on the basement floor of 19.”
Elinor’s interest sharpened immediately, Tiffany disengaging from Gwen and Lucky after that revelation as she thought back on Ka’Vina’s map. The nineteenth underground level? That’s nearly at the bottom of the fortress—one of the four full level restricted zones at the city’s base.
Carlos nodded, his tanned face unusually animated. “We found an open restricted elevator shaft. The system appears to be in a perpetual loop—ascending to a junction point near the 10th floor before descending again to the depths. The moment we discovered it, we moved to contact you.”
Show me.
They left the rest of the preparation work in Gwen and Lucky’s capable hands as Carlos led them through the seemingly endless pathway beside the wall and green zone. They proceeded deeper into the agricultural level until they reached a circular chamber embedded into the wall. One of the quen’talrat opened the door, leading into another hallway of branching doors, but one area wasn’t like the rest.
The doors stood partially open, frozen mid-cycle by some malfunction. Entering the space, they found a long room, filled with more doors. Yet only one was open, a hovering platform pulsed with faint blue energy inside, its runic patterns continuously cycling through activation sequences.
“It rises every seventeen minutes,” Carlos explained, “connecting to a hub on the tenth floor—a junction point with access to other restricted zones. But, just like this room, only one pathway remains operational—the descent to Level -19.”
Tiffany approached the platform cautiously, her orange witchfire dancing across its surface as she tested the energy patterns. “I can’t say anything about the runes themselves, but the arcane structure seems stable, despite the interrupted cycle. For some reason, when someone last came up, they appeared to have deliberately maintained power to this specific system. A mistake during the chaos?”
Possible… The question is, what’s on that restricted level that justified the power allocation, because even the Agricultural District seems to be struggling with what the system is allowing to pass through it, Elinor mused, stepping onto the platform. It didn’t so much as quiver under her weight, not that it compared to the literal tons that quen’talrat carried around.
“I think you’ll be pleased,” Carlos returned with a secretive smile.
After a few minutes of anticipation, the platform came alive and the runic patterns intensified as it began to descend smoothly through the shaft. It was utterly silent except for the faint humming of energy, the walls a blur of stone and embedded crystals.
“Junction access in two minutes,” Carlos noted, checking a watch he’d kept.
As they approached the tenth floor, the shaft opened into a massive circular chamber with eight branching corridors, radiating outward like spokes—Ke’Thra’Ma appeared to love the number. Seven were sealed behind shimmering force fields, their access terminals dark and unresponsive. The eighth pulsed with the same blue energy as their platform, the path ahead clear but disappearing into the depths of the fortress.
“The rail system may connect to other restricted zones or access points on floor ten,” Carlos offered as they passed through the junction without stopping. “Most terminals are completely dead, but this one seems to be active…”
He gestured to the open corridor and they followed him into it.
Not long after, they began their descent.
The shaft narrowed as they plunged deeper, the temperature dropping noticeably with each passing minute. The quen’talrat with them read off the symbols as they passed, and at Level-15, they passed through what appeared to be a security checkpoint—heavy metal doors below stood frozen in the open position, their control mechanisms having failed.
Elinor’s vision narrowed upon spotting crystalized green ooze of some kind spackled across its surface, as if something had crawled out before all traces of it vanished.
Level -17… 18…
The platform’s speed remained constant, but the air grew thicker, carrying a strange mixture of scents—earth, vegetation, and something else, something almost primal.
“Prepare yourself, Empress,” Carlos quietly said with a grin, as if a kid on Christmas day, as they approached their destination. “I think we may be able to find more gaps in Nethermore’s security here, because…”
He trailed off as the platform slowed, then stopped at a vast circular antechamber carved from the same black granite-like stone, only these ones had veins of gold in them. At the far end stood doors of unprecedented scale—fifty feet high, covered in runes, most of which flickered and failed every so often, lowering the force field.
Why do I feel like I’m in a monster movie? Elinor asked with a dry chuckle, silently reading the translated script on the wall as the apes filled in the gaps.
A quen’talrat responded, quivering and not budging from the platform. “It’s not really words, Empress, but a sign… It means R&D. The Research and Development Core. Those other symbols…danger. Areas that mean danger for the likes of the Research and Development Core is… These are Elite Hunters that oversee this project.”
Is that right? Elinor whispered, vision narrowing and setting the drone she was on into defensive mode to react in case of a threat. It didn’t respond to any potential danger. Let’s move more cautiously. Mom…
“What?!” The witch had already hopped down and was jogging forward with anxious glee. “This is an incredible chance to see what the quen’talrat believes is worth locking up. Maybe we can find some powerful unintelligent undead for you to raise here. The bold step into the future!”
One of the massive doors had collapsed inward, creating an opening large enough to pass through. Tiffany was already timing the force field and hopping past it. Beyond, faint light pulsed in rhythmic patterns, accompanied by sounds that seemed impossibly distant yet clearly audible whispered to them—rustling leaves, flowing water, animal calls.
An underground jungle?
“Elinor,” her mother breathed, “you must see this! This is phenomenal!”
One of the quen’talrat read something above the elevator they’d exited, now rising. Her fur was stiff, posture defensive as she backed away with the others, eyes growing wide.
“This is…the Cradle of Becoming. In honor of Ke’Thra’Ma. A piece of the World Below. A gift from Ka’Krisna’Terva… No, no, no, no—we should leave, Empress!”
“The Rose Queen?” another quivered, the translation shifting in Elinor’s mind, giving images of pink fur and a sadistic smile from two large heads. “The Mad Breeder.”
Elinor’s brow furrowed as she watched Tiffany appraising the interior. Stay behind if it frightens you, but I must have answers…
As Carlos and her stepped through the breach, timing the force field, words failed her upon stepping onto an observation platform, connected to what appeared to be a lab.
Before them stretched a vista that should have been impossible—an underground world extending far beyond what the fortress footprint could contain. The ceiling arched hundreds of feet overhead, embedded with artificial stars that twinkled in simulated night, possibly runes or mystical gemstones, housing the Supreme Chiefs’ people, while distant horizons faded into mist.
The arachnid’s senses became disrupted by some singal, yet it still managed to send an impression to her through the Nexus; this covered the full city—all seven-hundred and sixty-eight square kilometers, and it was far from empty.
Hills rose in the distance, their peaks catching the light of what had to be an artificial moon. Forests spread across rolling plains, while a river system wound its way through the landscape, feeding what appeared to be an inland sea toward the eastern boundary.
“Does this chamber extend beyond the fortress foundations?” Tiffany whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “It’s as if they hollowed out an entire section of the planet.”
Not quite that far, Mom, but more than enough to question its purpose, and there’s still a floor below this… Based on what was written on the wall, I think it’s fair to say this was here before Ke’Thra’Ma built the fortress, and this Rose Queen excavated deeper to reach this place… In fact, the quen’talrat could still be living here.
One of the brutalized miners she’d raised broke down weeping within the hallway.
Elinor moved to the edge of an observation platform overlooking the impossible landscape. Then again, judging by the state of it, probably not. We need—
A distant roar echoed across the chamber, causing ripples in the colossal trees miles away. Something giant was moving through the forest, something that had been evolving in isolation for over a century in this strange place.
It’s still active, Elinor observed with a small smile, the challenge now igniting heat within her breast. These systems never shut down.
“Here, sweetie, keep up!” her mother motioned, practically skipping to the lab, attached to the ceiling and observation zone. “Oh, automatic doors? That’s new! And this place looks like it saw a monster breach. What…intriguing biological structures these are. I think there is a runic computer of some kind here. It’s active! One of you darlings needs to get in here. It’s showing a giant handprint. Mmm. I wonder what it would do with mine…”
Mom.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll be patient…”
Elinor followed her in, the quen’talrat tentatively gathering their courage to just get past the force field. She left the drone on the platform to observe any approaching threats.
“Queen Tiffany, Empress,” one whimpered, “this is dangerous. Ka’Krisna’Terva was obsessed with how the Ke evolved to…to become the Ke—to have all quen’talrat gifts. She conducted experiments, but this…this must be one of her crowning projects, flattering the Ke to get approval. It is a common tactic due to her…position within the Blood Royals.”
Passing through the door, she scanned the partially destroyed lab, spotting the same greenish crystal goo that had been on the jarred bulkhead doors.
For now, we’ll conduct an initial investigation. We won’t go any further until Camellia can join us, but until then let’s see what we can discover…
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