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Fantasy The Devil's Meridian (Closed)

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Flint watched his unchanging reflection in the looking glass. Nothing. At first he began to feel frustrated at the lack of changes, but as he sat in front of the mirror longer and longer, a new feeling took hold of him. The lady in his dreams, with her soothing voice in that garden of purity, had told him it needed to remain free from corruption. Judging how it looked within the pyramid, Flint knew it was a promise he had arrived far too late to keep. But the purity of soul. Perhaps that was the key to this seemingly enchanted artifact. Has he studied his image, which was bathed in a faint red hue, he could see nothing unusual about it. Could this mean he was not affected by anything? Did the mirror expose corruption within individuals, even if they tried to hide it by means of magic trickery? Flint warmed to the idea as he finished his pipe and glass of rum, and decided he would test his theory further when he would get a chance. He put his uniform in order and left his cabin. There was no reason to hide away and let his crew act aimlessly on his behalf.

Before going anywhere else, Flint took a detour to the sickbay to speak with Dr. Marsh. In the back of the infirmary, the doctor had set up a room that would act as a temporary morgue. On a table in the middle of that room, Parker lay sleeping the eternal slumber. Flint sighed as he walked up to the corpse of the young man, but something filled him with relief. Parker looked surprisingly unharmed for someone involved with a freak accident with a dynamite. Further more, his visage was calm and it almost seemed as if he was smiling. Marsh theorized, after hearing accounts of the events from other sailors and performing the autopsy, that Parker had actually suffered a far more merciful demise than previously thought. It seemed that as Parker had fallen from the ladder and into the water, the dynamite had only tattered his uniform and destroyed his trench gun. As a result from the shock wave, Parker had been knocked unconscious and simply drowned in the waters of the chamber. While Flint still found himself somewhat unable to shake the thought of the fact that his mad obsession had lead to a young mans untimely death, it felt somewhat reassuring that Parker had not even been aware of his own death as his grip on life slipped from his grasp. Marsh asked Flint if he should prepare the body for a burial, but Flint refused. Burying Parker in this foul soil would be a terrible disservice to him, and burying him at sea would suffice when they cast off the next day.

After the visit to the infirmary, Flint went to the bridge to consult with Bates. The commander informed his captain of the Warrens intent to explore the pyramid. Flint frowned at the prospect, but the request for a guide alleviated his contempt. Flint would send Rourke along, as the latter knew his Captains strict orders to not open the sarcophagus.

After fetching Rourke from the room where the Alamannians were conducting their research of the scroll, Flint and both his closest officers stood on the balcony of the bridge and watched Warrens skiff approach the main island. As they made landfall at the crumbling docks next to the Terror and began unloading their expeditionary force, Flint and Bates eyed them with slight disapproval.
"Nothing but suffering and curses will come of further forays into that damned pyramid, I can assure you of that, Warren." Flint spoke as the commander walked up the gangway to meet them. "Never the less, Rourke will come with you to see that you don't all perish at once." he concluded in a dry tone as he gestured to the lieutenant by his side. Rourke greeted Warren with a proper salute while Bates simply studied Warren with his usual scowling visage.
 
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"Nothing but suffering and curses will come of further forays into that damned pyramid, I can assure you of that, Warren. Never the less, Rourke will come with you to see that you don't all perish at once."
Click to expand...

Warren nodded. "Its just for two hours. I want to have a look around and test something." he responded, glancing to Rourke. "Also, I have to ask...what have you found related to a winged mermaid?" His gaze returned to Flint. Riddle seemed to give Bates the same look that he was giving Warren as he studied him, holding his Annihilator up next to his head. "We found a few things over on Island I and II." added Warren after a moment.
 
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Grand Captain Kortova was in a bad mood. First she had to deal with this freaky Kuromaki lady, and then Ishra had to be all crazy and... posses her or something. The nerve of that demon! She was the grand captain, not some hotel giving out free rooms. When she fetched her hat from her cabin, she made sure to give the demon a few choice words while she continued her tirade and tantrum. For the moment, she still had Kuromaki to deal with, and Kortova, Williams, a handful of sailors led the commissar onto the island where other crewmen were already going about their business. Naturally, of the handful with them all were marked members and had some inclination of what was going on.

Down into the bowl they went, and Kortova gestured impatiently at the chair. ["Take a seat then, if you are so eager."]

Williams sent word ahead into the structure to begin preliminary work as they were already on site. Hopefully, they could gain access to that last room by the end of the day.
 
Having fully arrived and set up on Island VIII, Dobbs surveyed the underbrush as the sailors prepped their materials and weapons on the beachhead they had established. A few tents were propped up with some foodstuffs and supplies for use later in the day after the expedition finished along with some ammunition for their rifles and pistols for defense against whatever might lie further in the island. Dobbs himself opted to take a pistol of his own as a weapon rather than to just rely on his sword alone, but would keep his blade as backup just in case. After a bit, the sailors that would be moving with Dobbs moved to join their Captain to signal their readiness to continue exploring, and the Captain raised his hand before motioning it forward. "Let's go gentlemen, we're burning daylight."

As they moved into the underbrush, Dobbs stayed in the center of the group as they advanced in a single line further into the island. At the front, a sailor was leading the group along as best as he could while hacking away at nearby branches and leaves blocking the way with a machete. Constellar Isle had been a massive success for the Prophet, and Dobbs now hoped there was something of interest to find on its neighboring island as well. In his mind, it was very possible that there could be something linking the two due to their vicinity to each other as well as the general layout of the island being similar. Yet, only time would tell if they would actually find anything.

---
​
Back on the Prophet, Lonstray had sent out a message to the Correntino as follows prior to returning back to his lab to refocus his efforts:

PROPHET TO CORRENTINO STOP
REQUESTING NEW SAMPLES STOP
FROM DR. DOS SANTOS STOP
RESEARCH FOR CURE ONGOING STOP
​
As he re-entered his lab, a few of his assistants were visibly arguing among one another of the details of their last attempt to decode the Altanic script with some blaming each other for their failure. Obviously, none would loudly proclaim anything to be of Lonstray's fault lest they'd lose their jobs but Lonstray could feel the attitude leaning to that direction especially after his outburst upon their failure earlier in the day. These fucking imbeciles don't know greatness when they see it. he thought to himself as he walked to his station. I will settle for nothing less than being remembered in history for my triumphs. And I won't let these buffoons muck it all up!

He then turned to his assistants, who had all gone quiet and were now looking at him, and put on a false demeanor and a fake smile. "I apologize for earlier. Let's get back to work, shall we? History doesn't wait for the docile." Of course, Lonstray's apology meant nothing to himself and was more to motivate his helpers to continue working. The assistants looked among each other for a moment before hastily getting back to work on the books.
 
Dr. Dos Santos decided to spend her morning further studying the defense mechanism of the jungle flower. If she could only find a way to sustain the cells within its corrosive fluids, then she could possibly employ the cells for other purposes, maybe even to treat her own affliction. During the early hours of the day, she was able to make some progress with this, by dividing her sample up into many small samples, each with different types of proteins and other nutrients mixed in. Only the control group fared well, but some samples did better than others when viewed under the microscope, and it was clear that plant-based nutrient fluids were superior to ones derived from animal sources. By noon, she hadn't cracked the code, but knew she could before the end of the day if things continued on this way.

At around the same time, the Correntino arrived at Island IV and found it just as demoralizing as the third island: totally covered in thick jungle foliage that was doubtlessly crawling with dangerous plants and animals. Alvarado and his team prepared to unload onto the rocky beach, with only the wild hope of striking some other motherlode like they had on Marta's Respite to drive them forward.

After the captain and his crew departed, Dos Santos took a minute to relax and breathe, and think over the large load of work ahead of her and the great challenge of finding a cure to her mysterious illness. She didn't sit for long; instead, she picked herself up and got back to work, even more determined than before to find the solution. But practically the same moment she set her hands on the test tubes containing her many plant samples, a voice grabbed her attention.

"You're going about this entirely the wrong way," she said.

Dos Santos was startled and turned around, and was greeted by a creature she found beautiful but difficult to describe. Her naked form was covered with fur, and yet the flesh itself seemed neither fully animal nor plant. She seemed to radiate the very essence of life, and while she looked nothing like the mermaid Dos Santos remembered from her fateful dream, it was somehow immediately clear to her that this was the very same creature. Butterflies and fireflies filled the air around her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your work; I certainly hate when others interrupt mine. But I see how hard you are trying to reverse my influence on your body and how... misguided you've started off, and I feel compelled to give you a little help. Take my hand, Doctor, and I will undo what I've done to you. Then, I feel an explanation is in order."

---​

After Ishra departed Kortova's body, Kuromaki was left with many, many questions, but found the Grand Captain uninterested in answering them. In fact, initially, Kortova stormed out of the lounge to regain her composure while Williams and Kuromaki moved to a more well-lit room to reflect. For a while, the commissar stood there in silence, staring into the distance with a vacant and frightened look adorning her single visible eye. Then, as Kortova returned and asked the two to accompany her, a strange smile traced its ways across Kuromaki's lips. "[Ishra mentioned someone named Pheres. Who is she?]" Kuromaki asked as they began to walk, but Kortova merely shook her head at the question.

Soon, they were walking down the side of the bowl toward the ominous chair. The Grand Captain directed her unwanted guest toward the throne and welcomed her to sit on it. Kuromaki stepped forward, not as reluctantly as one would expect, before turning, sitting, and almost instantly turning pale and sickly looking. She then opened her hand to the others, revealing Ishra's token. Just like with Kortova, a conversation had taken place within the blink of an eye, and the commissar had agreed to the same unholy contract that was currently transforming the Grand Captain. She slipped the coin into her coat pocket and flashed a toothy grin, despite her pallor; without a word, it was clear that Kuromaki was captivated by whatever it was that Ishra offered her.

"[To the chambers then, Grand Captain?]" Kuromaki asked.

---
​
While the trees on Island VIII were close together, there was little brush in the way which prevented the men of Dobbs' team from venturing inland. After a while, they came upon a hollow in the trees where there were large bushes filled with berries. On closer inspection, they were found to be something akin to the raspberries found throughout the rest of the world, and one of the more adventurous men in the group had already picked one and eaten it before he could be told not to. He remarked that it tasted sweet and nothing more. There were also towering trees here baring reddish-orange fruit high above the ground. As they were looking up at these distant prizes, they heard a very unpleasant noise growing in volume nearby. It was a rumble that gradually turned more and more hostile, until they realized they were being attacked by a bear!

There were a flurry of unsuccessful gunshots as the beast exploded from seemingly nowhere into the clearing, and Dobbs, who had smartly drawn his sword in addition to his pistol, was able to slash the bear and hold it off for a moment at the tip of his blade. He tried to follow this up with a shot from his pistol, but the bear was surprisingly swift and struck him hard enough with its claw that Dobbs was knocked completely off his feet. Briefly ignoring the bloody gash that resorted, Dobbs turned and fired a round directly into the animal's face at the same time several of his men had unloaded on the bear with their rifles. The huge beast toppled over sideways. With some bandaging, Dobbs was able to return to leading his men.
 
With some initial breakthroughs, Dos Santos left her station to take a breather and relax before tackling more work. While resting against a wall, she began to feel a bit of sorrow at the fact she couldn't join the expedition. While she tried to reassure herself that Alvarado and his men would handle things well, a part of her doubted that. After a few more minutes, she walked back into her lab and began to study her notes on the flower. To see what other chemical compounds she could use.

But a beautiful voice coming near her suddenly caught her by surprise. Dos Santos turned around and let out a surprised scream, falling backwards from her seat and crashing onto the floor. She quickly got up to look at the creature, finding that it was female in form and it had a beautiful face. Dos Santos looked at her with utter confusion, and only began to talk when one of the insects flying around the familiar creature landed on her nose. "W...who are y... wait... you are..." Dos Santos looked at her surroundings for a moment, then looked back at the creature. "D...did I fall asleep? Did I touch something toxic? No... can't be... you are... Halja! R-right?"

Dos Santos pointed at her with her mutated hand. "Y...you are a goddess, right? Assuming I'm not hallucinating... Why are you here?" The woman quickly explained her self before Dos Santos could continue asking her. "I... Excuse me...?" She wanted to take Dos Santos' hand and free her from her affliction. This surprised the doctor, who assumed the deity simply didn't care for the state of her mutation after several attempts of trying to contact her. She slowly gave her hand to the goddess, hoping she wasn't lying and trying to speed up the process of the mutation.

Meanwhile...

As the crew of the Correntino approached Island IV, audible dismay was heard from the crew as they saw the roofed jungles of the island. "...For fucks sake." said one of the men. While the others either laughed or joined him, Alvarado simply smiled. "We don't know what these ancient jungles hide beneath. We could find more fortunes waiting." he said, trying to lift everyone's morale up. The men nodded in agreement. One of the women even thanked the Republic that there were no Alleghenians or Alamannians to annoy them, to which everyone laughed and agreed.

Once the ship was close enough, the men got on the boats and approached the island. The this time there'll be two, large teams of twenty members each. Nearly half the crew of the Correntino. Team 1 would be led by Alvarado, and Team 2 will be led by Mancinelli's temporal replacement, Carolina Pinto. "Alright fellas, I wish you the best of luck." said Alvarado, giving everyone pats on the back. "Remember! We are all making history." He then let out a small chuckle. "...Our names won't be remembered, but at least the ship will be!" The men laughed, and got ready for the long day ahead of them.
 
Kortova eyed Kuromaki with a mild hint of distaste as the woman sat upon the throne. All of the demonic gifts were supposed to belong to her by her new found right, and by extension, her crew. This woman was like some wild upstart that had come along to siphon away power and status that belonged to her. Now she knew how grandfather and grandmother felt when they wrote, in their many letters and correspondences, of the unspoken duel of power between nobility at every gathering. The posturing, the mind games, the back handed efforts. Grandfather had spoken widely about the art of being presentable at gatherings - dress to stand out so your liege could see you, and always be the first to clap or cheer. Much of the challenge came about when the things your liege supported, and you by extension, didn't quite work out. She couldn't imagine the effort that went into his position as being a vocal and present leader of the high nobility faction... while also secretly being a supporter of the coup that, regrettably, failed. Though given the course of history, had it all worked out, she wouldn't be where she was now, so perhaps it was best that grandfather failed so that she could succeed. Sorry, grandfather. Atleast the family will be even greater now with me. More prestige and wealth imaginable than whatever we could have gotten back in ugly Ruthenia.

Her expression was caught in a half-frown, half-pout as Kuromaki returned to her senses with one of Ishra's tokens. I got one first! She had that going for her above Kuromaki, for one, among other things.

She was tempted to say no to the woman's question simply for her presumption. Kortova straightened her furred cap to ensure that she maintained a taller height, even though she was naturally equal if not shorter; certainly among the Sokrovian's she was almost always naturally shorter. "[Do not forget that you are a guest here, miss. We are not like the Alamannian band who must take your veiled "suggestions" as orders. We've never lost a war and we certainly won't be doing so any time soon, so... so don't forget it!]"

The heat of the day was already getting to her, especially with her hat and uniform. She should have gone with summer attire for today but she hadn't considered dressing that way. At least the marines and sailors in their fatigues could remove jackets and roll up sleeves. Lieutenant Williams cleared his throat and removed a simple scissor-fan from his jacket, which he held over for Kortova. She took it without word and snapped it openly loudly and fanned herself. "[As it so happens it was predecided, by myself and my officers, that we would be going into the chambers again today. Don't get any weird ideas. Lets go.]"

With that, she marched the procession down into the structure where the vanguard teams and researchers were already waiting. They had taken the time to record additional data, update logs, and debate findings as they completed reports. A few scribes took charcoal impressions of the door inscriptions - none daring to step into the rooms as it was also forbidden - and a photographer was racking up quite the count of pictures.

Kortova strode in and made right for the remaining chamber with the mirrors. It must have been Pheres' room, she figured, given what Kuromaki had said. She couldn't remember which was which right now. It was too hot to think straight. "[This won't be long,]" she huffed, stuffing her fan away into her jacket before she walked right into the chamber with her chin up, partially annoyed at... a lot of things. Zhukov for screwing up in this room yesterday, Kuromaki for being Kuromaki, and the damned weather! She eyed the statue. "You!" She said simply, considering a tirade but she settled with a stern glare and angrily pointed finger. After a moment she turned around to face the entrance and all the mirrors, which she looked at with a mild sigh. At least it was nice to see herself all over like this. Mirrors were always calming, for the most part. She could stare at herself for a long time. And she had. Sure, some talked about it being a vain trait, but everyone had their indulgences. She couldn't help she was so nice to look at. With hands on hips, she pointed back down the hall, through the doors, mimicking the stature behind her. However, she did so without quite thinking about it, for she raised her voice. "All you people out there stay back so you don't get hit by the doors and mess this up!"
 
Upon mention of the winged mermaid, Flint raised an eyebrow. "We encountered a long corridor mural which included something of the sort while entering the ziggurat. Seems she lead a faction in a war against Wulfera and a legion of undead. A war it appeared she eventually lost." Flint replied.

After the initial reveal, Flint informed Warren that he had other matters to attend to and would let Rourke divulge the rest of the details.
As the newly formed group made their way through the city, the lieutenant shared their findings within the ziggurat, including the sarcophagus. He even mentioned their difficult attempt to clear the chamber and how Flint had had a change of heart about opening it.

As Rourke lead the group away, Flint turned his back on them and took out the looking glass. Raising it over his shoulders, he aimed it at Warren to see if his earlier theory held any wait, if anything could be discerned at this distance.
 
Warren took in the information, curious about the sarcophagus. It was very likely cursed, but they had no way of knowing unless someone attempted to open it. As adventurous and brave as Warren was at times, he wasn't risking getting a horrible curse to peek at whatever was in it. Instead, he'd take a look around the pyramid, at the corpses that Flint's group had already dispatched. Perhaps they might uncover something Flint's group hadn't?
 
A brief scuffle with a monstrous bear ended with an Albionian victory, and soon enough after a bit of bandaging on his chest Dobbs was back on his feet to continue the venture. He took a moment to consider what to do next while his men relaxed and loitered about. A few of them kicked the corpse a couple times while one of them now sat atop of the deceased and brought out a cigarette to smoke. "What a freak of nature. Should keep it as a trophy eh lads? We'll be popular with the ladies back home!" the sailor joked to his comrades, garnering a few chuckles from those nearby. "Nah, it's too big to carry on our skiff. We should take a picture instead!"

Dobbs then interjected as he turned back to his men: "We'll get our photo op later. For now, we're looking for anything else that could be on this island. Understood?"

Almost immediately, the sailors got back in line and went back to their positions. Dobbs made a note of the fruit trees and bushes and to revisit them later. Perhaps Lonstray would like to study to see if they was anything notable or new about them. In the meantime, the group pushed on further into the brush of the island.

---
​
As the research team continued their work, the sounds of scribbling and penning were notable as multiple members of the group were writing down information in an attempt to discern patterns or connections within the writings. Two of them were busy handling one of the tomes to discern its importance and value to see if it was worth looking into as one of the first, but as they did so they were whispering to one another. "Not to sound strange, but I miss Lonstray yelling at us constantly." the man spoke to his colleague, a woman around his age. "This... this is just weird. This face he's putting on. Acting so nice all of a sudden. It kind of freaks me out."

The woman took a quick glance at Lonstray, who was overseeing another section of the lab, before returning her attention to her own work. "I get what you mean James, but maybe he's trying to be better?" she said with nervousness in her voice.

"Hmph, I think he's more likely to be driven mad by the sea rather than actually becoming a decent person." the man muttered in response as he flipped a page to a beautiful illustration with an inscription underneath it. "Ah, this looks promising. We should catalog this." he stated before suddenly freezing in place out of fear, for he could suddenly almost feel as if Lonstray was right behind him. And he was right, Lonstray had arrived behind them almost a moment earlier and had been looking at what they had uncovered. The head researcher looked at the tome for a moment before looking between the two assistants: "Excellent work James. And you as well, Elizabeth." Lonstray stated with an uncanny smile adorning his face. Truth be told, he had overheard what James spoke and wanted nothing more than to drive his fist into the assistant's nose but visibly restrained himself through the strains on his neck.

Yet he did nothing of the sort as he quickly walked away and exited the lab, leaving a few of the assistants confused and both James and Elizabeth rattled from this awkward exchange. Lonstray returned to his chambers and quickly closed the door behind him. As soon as he was alone in his quarters he immediately took his anger out on his desk as he threw whatever was on it onto the floor and kicked his chair over before storming into his washroom and stared into the drain as he gripped the edges of the sink. I'll show them, I'll show them all. They'll all give me the respect I'm owed. he thought to himself furiously as he breathed heavily in an attempt to calm himself down although that would be a task easier said than done as he spent a good quarter-hour in his washroom before making his way back to the lab.
 
Halja hadn't reacted at all to Dos Santos' shock and fall, but nodded sagely as the doctor stammered out her name. Having asked for her hand, Halja took it and gently closed her own paw-like hand around the webbed fingers of Dos Santos' mutated claws. A feeling rippled through her arm and up into her body which was neither painful nor pleasant, but which signaled an exchange of some sort... The doctor could barely keep her eyes open to witness Halja's turn a vivid shade of blue, before vertigo began to take her, and Dos Santos nearly fell over. As she leaned and stooped a bit, numbness poured into her until she wasn't sure what was happening. And then, after only a few seconds, it was over. She was seated on the floor, vision blurred, with Halja crouched down beside her.

When clarity returned to her, she immediately realized that her hands had become normal again, and she had been restored to her original height, just as the goddess promised her. Halja seemed a bit disappointed, but remained polite. "When you faraway travelers come to this sea, you always bring thinkers along. Thinkers- people with great imagination. I used to seek them relentlessly when there were many living in this sea, encouraging them, teasing them, seeing what genius I could uncover. I grew tired of it during the war... Thanks to Wulfera, there was no use for genius anymore except to expand her dominion. Worse yet, they toyed with death until it became something restless, and that was when I learned to hide from them," she began.

"When Altanis was a pure land, the people here called me the Goddess of Life, as I was, and remain, the greatest master of the aether. Immortality- I was the first to achieve it. I was the first to discover the truth of the flesh, and the fundamental essence of the human soul. No one else has ever attained the same enlightenment, although much of that is due to my absence and the downfall of my following. In the centuries that have passed, I have grown more and more lonely, here, alone with my knowledge and surrounded by a world of ignorance," she lamented, placing her head in her hands. "Now, when visitors from the faraway lands come, I seek the one with the greatest potential to learn my truths."

Halja held up her hand, and once again her eyes began to glow with a mesmerizing blue. Dos Santos watched as the Goddess's hand changed and morphed before her eyes, becoming feathered at first, before suddenly exploding into something that resembled a bouquet of flowers, retracting into itself and becoming slimy and gnarled with tentacles, and then turning back into a mammalian form like it began. Halja's eyes faded. "Flesh is... flesh... temporary and nothing more. Human beings are wont to assign special meaning to it because they are raised to know their reflection, but this meat that you're encased in holds no more significance than the wood in the desk behind you. Your soul is what makes you unique, and a soul is just cleverly arranged aether."

"I could revive that wood and place your soul's aether inside of it. You would then be a living desk," she added with a mischievous grin. "Of course, I didn't come to torment you, or anyone. My intention is to show you how misguided it is to become a slave to maintaining that flesh. Your crew mates are terrified of injury; they fear that if they cannot save the flesh, then their souls will pass on. That's backwards! Master the aether and you will make the flesh do your bidding. Now, the first step to mastering aether is to meditate until you become sensitive to its presence, but that would take years. Instead, I've already bestowed that sensitivity on you the moment you took my hand.

"The stone I gave you is the other part of the lesson. I gave it to you so that you could learn to use it, not to pray to it like some kind of idol worship. With enough focus, you could have pulled the spell out of yourself and put it back in the stone. I suppose it will be much easier to control it, now, however, now that you can see the aether. Maybe you could cure that lowly commissar you cursed?" Halja finally paused, allowing Dos Santos to speak again.

Outside, Alvarado led his men inland, toward the center of the unexplored island. At first, it seemed very similar to the first, but soon that changed as they left sight of the shore. The trees here had much darker bark, and soon it seemed as if there were an unnatural glow coming from within the cracks in the bark. Odd creatures darted from branch to branch in fear of the intruders below, and creeping insects and snakes seemed to line the muddy jungle floor. Alvarado paused, allowing for one of his scouts to track the distance they had traveled since landfall and make a rough sketch of the trail.

At that moment, one of the glowing trees cracked open, and long vine tendrils shot out of the trunk before wrapping around the body of the scout, pulling him in quickly as he screamed in surprise. In reflex, Alvarado swung at the tree with his machete, trying to chop the vines away which were tightening more and more around the boy's face, neck and ribs, until they threatened to break bones and crush the windpipe. Over and over, Alvarado did this, until several of his team joined him, trying to hack away enough of the deadly vines that it would save their comrade. But even as they worked, the split in the trunk was closing, as if the tree were trying to eat the scout!

Finally, with enough slashes, the vines began to give and moments later, the men pulled their friend out of danger and they crashed to the earth. The terrifying tree soon fully closed itself, and they were left in silent terror of all the similar-looking trees around them.

---
​
Kuromaki's smile disappeared as Kortova berated her. "[Ishra told me what you've been up to here, ma'am]" she fired back. "[She told me about the great family, and what you intend to do when you return to Sokrovia. You would be wrong if you're presuming I would attempt to subvert you or your plans. In fact,]" she added, her tone a bit biting, "[if you would be so kind as to allow me, I would like to request a transfer to your vessel, so that I might render myself a close ally.]"

The response was a bit surprising to the Grand Captain, who chose not to answer immediately as there was work to be done. The party went into the tunnel connected to the chambers and soon found themselves in the antechambers, with all of their elaborate engravings. Kuromaki kept mostly quiet and didn't touch anything as the crew took rubbings of every image, and Kortova entered the chamber of the archdemon of vanity, Panok. She turned and ordered the others to stay back, expecting the doors to swing closed behind her. At once, everyone she had ordered moved away, not simply because she had demanded it, but as if they had been pushed back by an unnatural force. Some even lost their balance and staggered.

Only Kuromaki stood unaffected, but once she saw the others step back, she stepped back a moment later by choice. The doors then swung closed, and the Grand Captain was alone with the idol. It continued to point at her, silent and disdainful of her presence.
 
Kortova glanced around the chamber as the doors closed by themselves. "Hmph! That's what I thought," she nodded to herself, examining the mirrors a little longer. They weren't bad, though she could have used some more subtle placement. Nothing too gaudy.

"Hello? Hello!" She called out to the idol. What could this demon say to her? And what would it have her do, if anything? The doors had closed already and fortunately this place didn't seem as demanding as the other chamber she had entered yesterday. As 'fun' as that had been, it certainly had made her feel more than a little weird. She noticed the tarp, or cloth, that had been left along on the floor and she stepped over to it and snatched it up. What's this? She eyed it over and examined it before pulling it on like a shawl before stepping over to one of the mirrors and looking into it. She didn't look half-bad in it, though she could have used something a little finer. And this one wasn't quite her color, either.
 
As Warren and Rourke set out for the pyramid, Flint took a quick peek at his mirror to see if it could uncover anything about the others that he couldn't see with his naked eye. It appeared to do nothing.

The small party walked through the necropolis in search of evidence of the undead. Warren was mainly interested in double-checking the work of the initial landing party and to see if he could uncover any more information about necromancy. Eventually, they entered the pyramid through the collapsed temple and down the long entry tunnel, just as Flint's team had done twice, and then they moved up the floors toward the armored mummy which had been guarding the second divergence in the path.

While looking over the fallen creature's remains, the team heard an odd scratching noise coming from the walls. They froze, wondering if there might be more danger undiscovered within the pyramid walls. After a time, they resumed their work, only for the noise to resume, but louder. Then, finally, the wall gave way on one side of the hall, revealing the horrid remains of a mummy that had been interred within the walls for many centuries. It, like the guardian, also wore armor, but of a lighter variety, and wielded in its bony hands a large iron mace covered in rust.

The gunshots immediately began as Rourke's men recognized the danger early on and had taken out their guns. They failed to hit the mummy anywhere vital, but the force of the bullets hitting its armor slowed it down. Before the moment had passed, Warren and his men had also taken shots, with one bullet even destroying the jaw of the mummy's face, but the foul creature staggered forward nonetheless, throwing two men out of the way with supernatural strength before raising its mace high enough to scrape the stone ceiling. A petty officer was in its direct path and had frozen up in terror; Warren grabbed him and threw him aside, and took a direct strike to the head from the mace for his heroics. He crashed to the ground, bleeding profusely from the wound and unconscious.

The rest of the team continued to fight the mummy, shooting and stabbing at it with whatever weapons were at their disposal. The mummy seemed to carry on longer than the others they had found before, striking several more men with its mace and badly wounding them before it was finally felled, falling to dust in the hall. They wasted no time, tying a cloth around Warren's head and carrying him out of the complex as a team as quickly as they could. Thanks to their efforts, they were able to save the Commander's life, returning him to the Terror to receive immediate medical attention. He would remain unconscious for the rest of the day, however.

---
​
Dobbs and his team wanted to press on, ignoring the fruits for now as they searched for more discoveries on the scale of what they found on Constellar Isle. After about another hour of scouting, they came across what may have been an ancient road, judging by the partially-buried stones which seemed to follow an unnaturally-straight line. Although the trees weren't parted by this line, it was easy to imagine that they once were, and that time had simply swallowed the road up. They began to follow this road, and it wasn't long before they found the remains of ancient foundations and walls which, although badly worn, were obviously once very neatly-built and coated with a concrete substance. Nearly all were missing their roofs, and notches here and there in the remaining stonework indicated that there had once been woodwork as well. The roofs were probably thatched or wooden, and had since rotted away.

Near the middle of this ancient town, there stood the crumbled remains of what had once been a tower. Dobbs' men climbed atop the fallen, moss-covered stones of its base, and, after looking for some time through the scattered rubble, eventually unearthed a rather incredible sight: a massive bell, perhaps six feet across at its base, made not of bronze or iron, but of a very rudimentary steel. On the exterior of this rusted relic was a cast relief of a now-familiar figure. Dobbs instantly recognized Astrius' form, with horns atop his head and a scale hanging from his hand. From appearances, it seemed that Astrius was the primary deity of this city's denizens. A more thorough search was in order.

Back on the Prophet, Lonstray and his assistants continued to press forward with their decoding efforts. They began to use a new approach, in which they began to record the Altanic words associated with common objects in diagrams, and then compare the written language with other contemporary languages from elsewhere in the world in search of possible cognates. Since certain very ancient texts from the old world made obscure references to the gods of Altanis, giving hints at the phonetic uses of the mysterious alphabet, perhaps more words could lend even more clues. After another hour of research, they had a breakthrough, identifying some of the vowels and consonant sounds. It was reasonable to expect that with this method, they would decipher the complete alphabet within a day or two.

From there, however, making any additional progress would be a murkier proposition. They had some diagrams and illustrations which could help them build a very basic vocabulary, but beyond that it would be very difficult to learn any aspects of the language in practice. Moreover, the linguists among the crew were starting to become exhausted from the pressure Lonstray was exerting.

---​

Now alone with the idol, Kortova wasn't sure how to gain the archdemon's attention. She picked up the old cloth which had fallen from its body the previous day, and tried wearing it. She admired herself in the mirrors for a while, but soon became aware that nothing was happening. Turning back to the idol struck her in a particular way; its sneering face and dismissive finger pointing felt rather hateful, and Kortova hated it in return. She wished the idol had been made in a less offensive pose, or that she could simply have it destroyed so that she didn't have to look at it any longer.

Clueless...

The voice practically whispered in her ear, and while Kortova's heart surged hopefully at the sound, its judgement was already a rather negative one. The doors opened slowly behind her, revealing her failure to the crew.
 
As the expeditionary force staggered back to the Terror and Rourke divulged what had transpired, Flint felt conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was relieved that Warren hadn't gotten close to opening the sarcophagus. On the other, whilst he harbored some suspicions towards the commander from his earlier dreams, he was some what distraught to see his long time colleague so gravely injured.
"Like the others, we found this on the mummy, sir." Rourke said, interrupting his captains thoughts. On his hand he held a similar charm of the despicable black aetherine. With Warren out of commission for the rest of the day, Flint knew it was time to act. He instructed some sailors to fetch a dynamite, and for Rourke to bring Von Paning from the infirmary.

The sun hung high on the midday sky, scorching the scene that was unfolding on the crumbling docks of the necropolis. In a group, Flint, Rourke, Riddle and a few sailors from both the Terror and the Jackal stood and kept watchful eyes over two figures in the distance. Roughly a hundred paces in front of the on the docks, a sailor was rigging a timed fuse to a stick of dynamite, instructed by a crutched Von Paning.

Tied to the dynamite was two charms of black aetherine.

Master Chief Riddle had objected strongly against destroying the artifacts, both because he knew the Commodore wouldn't approve of it, as well as the fact that his own Commander was in possession of a similar item. Flint on the would have none of it, and shut Riddle down on the basis of command hierarchy. He then explained to chief that the charms were cursed and needed to be destroyed. Furthermore, Kuromaki was carrying one too, so if anyone wanted to delve deeper into this foul sorcery, they would do it on their own accord. Captain Nathaniel Flint made it abundantly clear he would not longer house these terrible trinkets aboard his vessel.

After the charge was deemed properly set up, the sapper limped back to the main group. On the deck of the Terror, a crowd of sailors and Alamannian scientists had congregated to watch, the later at the ready to take notes for further studies.

The sailor was sweating profusely, both from the sun and the weight of his task. Looking back to his captain, he awaited the signal. Flint lifted his arm up slowly and swung it downward in a swift motion. The sailor set to work immediately, lighting the fuse and started counting the seconds. He jogged back to the others, making sure to be out of harms way. It was eerily quiet. Only the occasional gust of wind and the lapping of the waves against the stone docks could be heard as everyone held their breath in anticipation.
 
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Riddle was angry. Angry because they couldn't take down that mummy before it harmed the Commander, and angry because Flint decided to pull rank. They were destroying two artifacts because of Flint's paranoia, and Riddle couldn't do anything about it. He grumbled to himself, before turning to his men from the Jackal. They were whispering amongst themselves, most discussing what they had saw inside the pyramid. Riddle was quick to shut them up. "Cut the chatter." he stated bluntly, and the men grew quiet rather quickly with one sounding off "Aye, Master Chief."

Now all they could do was wait. He'd speak to the Commodore on the Commander's behalf, since Warren had told him about what he had observed in his dream on the way to the island. He'd also be sure to inform the Commodore about what Captain Flint was doing here with artifacts and dynamite.
 
Lonstray's new facade approach to his assistants seemed to be working, as they made some progress on the decoding of the Altanic script with further findings on certain vowels and consonants. Yet as much as the scientists' seemingly endless need to continue researching poured on out, the assistants were continuing to tire from their non-stop work. To him, they didn't share his endless want for discovery and this angered him deeply. Yet, he had to continue to put on a smile and at least try to look like he was being a good leader. "We can stop here for today." Lonstray announced, causing all the assistants to stop what they were doing and look upon the man. "Go rest. I wish to be alone." he then said as he went over to his own dedicated station and looked at a few of the manuscripts himself. The assistant's looked to one another before walking out towards either their own quarters or to the mess hall of the ship to relax and recuperate.

Lonstray himself would not be resting however as he took out what he and his team had gathered on the first island the expedition had stopped on. The vial with the spider still held its occupant, although the spider was dead by this point. As such, Lonstray took to fill the vial with preservative liquid to keep the specimen from decaying before a proper analysis could be done on it. Next he examined the vial with the strange crystals he had encountered before. It was here he decided to do a few experiments of his own on it as he prepped his station by uncluttering it and putting on some goggles and gloves. He then set the vial in front of him along with a few testing dishes and cracked his knuckles. Showtime. he thought to himself as he opened the vial.

---
​
The discoveries for Dobbs and his small group continued as they encountered what seemed to be the continued remnants of buildings and an all too clear indicator of yet another settlement that had worshipped the god Astrius when it was in its prime and still harbored life. This sparked a need inside Dobbs to uncover what he can from this area and without hesitation gave the order to continue searching the place. To help their efforts Dobbs assigned the highest ranking officer among the sailors, a highlander lieutenant by the name of Alec Reid, to lead half of the sailors among them to search the area while Dobbs would search another part of these ruins. As they parted ways to their nearby destinations, a few of the sailors in Reid's group spoke among each other. "Cap'n is all riled up about this eh?" one of them spoke as he looked around. "You reckon it's that horned feller on the bell?"

"I dunnae Finn, but if the Captain be looking about for it then it's important for us then too." another sailor said, garnering a few nods and grunts from his peers. "Quit yappin' yer gobs and get to looking." Lieutenant Reid then spoke up, fully focused on searching these ruins. This got his men to quiet down and focus on their tasks as well.
 
None of Kortova's officers wished to step forward and deal with the Captain's fussiness when the doors to Panok's chambers swung open. She had just ordered them to step back a couple of minutes earlier, and she had been highly confident in her own ability to pass whatever test the archdemon required. She would probably be embarrassed or indignant at the suggestion that she might need help. Ensign Kuromaki, however, saw an opportunity to demonstrate her willingness to assist the Grand Captain, and she slunk into the room to stand aside her. Kortova's head was hanging in frustration and the commissar's presence only soured her mood further.

"[Don't bother me, Ensign. I'm trying to think of something else,]" she declared, hoping the rude upstart would simply leave her be.

Kuromaki gave her a funny look. "[Was that shawl...]"

The Grand Captain realized she was still wearing the large cloth that had been in the chamber and blushed, trying to avoid eye contact. "[It was clearly meant to be worn. What to do afterwards, I'm not sure. Do you have any other ideas?]" She asked, pointedly. She assumed that Kuromaki would say no, or shake her head, allowing Kortova to dismiss her quickly without seeming too hostile to her new... she couldn't think it. There was no way she could ever think of this cursed mongrel of a woman as a "sister" as much as the demons liked to talk about their great family. Step sister, Kortova thought, wryly, from different, ugly and stupid father.
​
"[May I see it?]" Kuromaki asked.

"[You still have one eye, Ensign. Use it,]" Kortova replied, impatiently. She did a turn, showing Kuromaki the cloth from other angles, but the latter gave a sigh as this was not what she meant at all, and the Grand Captain's petulance was getting ridiculous. The commissar looked to the door, at all the curious onlookers, and felt a rush of distaste for their judgement. Did they all hate her as much as Kortova seemed to? She then turned back to the statue at the head of the room, and how it dismissively pointed at her directly. She hated it, too, and every moment that passed filled her with more and more dark thoughts.

The doors slammed shut behind them, startling both the Grand Captain and the Ensign, but Kuromaki didn't forget the last impulse she had before their isolation. Somehow, she believed that the thought itself that triggered the door; as if Kortova's test had ended in failure, but now it was Kuromaki's turn. She marched up to the idol, climbed up on its pedestal, and since Kortova hadn't given up the cloth, Kuromaki took off her hat, and pushed it down over the archdemon's face. "[Ishra told me about the trials- take all that you crave, seduce any you desire, destroy any who displease you, and let none look down upon you,]" she repeated. "[She said you've already heard that.]"

Kortova blinked as she vaguely remembered the lust demon's voice speaking the same words the previous day. But she was sort of... distracted at the moment, and besides, it was hard to think in this kind of heat! How dare this woman lecture her! She was about to reprimand Kuromaki when Panok intervened.

Ah, good work, both of you. Vanity is such a fickle thing. It's like fire, isn't it? It's useful - no - indispensable, as motivation and inspiration all the same, but the moment someone else sticks their hand in your fire, you both get burned... Demons must never allow themselves to accept the judgement of others. You are the sole meaningful judge of your own worth, and damn anyone who disagrees. Your ascension up from pitiful, dirty humanity may be just beginning, but already you are like glittering diamonds. Never forget that, Tsukiko. Anastasia- you already knew this. Why did you allow my idol to mock you and your crew for so long?

I am Panok, if you haven't already guessed. I hope that my blessing will continue to enrich you with understanding of your unmatched worth. Look at your reflections. Look deep into them. Deeper.

Obediently, both women rushed to the wall and looked at themselves, and strained to see what it was that Panok was trying to show them. He kept repeating his words: look deeper... much deeper... until the two of them were practically hypnotized. It felt intoxicating to stare so intently; the world seemed to fade away around them. And then, Kortova was the first to arrive. Erupting into delighted laughter, her heart fluttered at the very idea of being so utterly perfect in every way, like never before. Kuromaki, however, didn't even hear her, she was so lost in her own single-eyed gaze. And then, just the same, it happened. She was perfect.

They were finally free from the mirror's spell, and turned to each other with slack-jawed grins that quickly faded into more of a serious facade. Suddenly, the sweat was gone from both of their foreheads, and their hair was perfectly brushed. Kuromaki looked to her hands, and although they were still claws, they were flawlessly manicured. She turned and slowly removed the bandages on her face, revealing scars that had formed in only the most flattering of lines. Her damaged eye had fully healed, as well. As the Sokrovian officers gathered up outside the doorway, which was now open, Kuromaki intentionally made a mess of her hair before wordlessly turning back to the mirrored wall and concentrating hard on her own eyes. A smile soon returned to her face as her hair began to move of its own accord back into its intended style.

Show them how much better you are. Make them weep, both of you...

---​

Seconds after the sailor returned from lighting the fuse and jumped behind cover, the dynamite exploded with a thunderous boom and a cloud of smoke and dust. A long silence followed as the explosion echoed off of distant land forms. The crew of the Terror peeked out from behind cover as they confirmed that their more wild fears about the black aetherine's properties weren't realized. Nothing unexpected and catastrophic was taking place, and so they crept forward and studied the aftermath. There was a large patch of black dust in the crater where the bomb had gone off, which they at first assumed was dust, until they noticed it sliding around on the ground like a liquid. It wasn't shadow mass, because it wasn't liquid in a true sense, nor was it forming beads. It was the same substance draining out of the sarcophagus in the heart of the pyramid.

The men mostly kept their distance to await further instruction, although one man slipped on the now-loosened gravel and stepped in the flowing soot. He scrambled up and out of the hole with the help of the others present, but moments later began to scream in agony. He gripped his leg as he writhed around, eventually pulling up his pant leg and kicking away his tainted shoe. Even without removing his sock, it was clear that his leg had been afflicted in some way, and in fear, the other sailors stumbled backwards to watch as a patch of discoloration crept up the sailor's leg as he cried out.

The horror subsided as the damage proceeded no further than his knee, and his desperate shouts for help became more of a moaning complaint. Eventually, a medic came to his side and confirmed that the flesh of the sailor's leg had been destroyed in a matter similar to freezing, to the point of gangrene. He then recommended that the leg be amputated at the knee without delay. It was now very clear that the crater was a hazardous site- the damage had been done despite the soot never touching its victim's skin. The sailors were stricken with such fear that they moved far enough from the crater that they could no longer even see the creeping soot, simply looking on it brought about an existential dread.

But, strangely, the last two to leave the immediate proximity, the medic and the victim, were witness to one more property of the unknown substance: his discarded shoe now glistened with tiny red particles of what appeared to be aetherine.

---
​
Having donned his protective gear, Lonstray finally uncorked the bottle containing the white crystals and gently poured them out onto a plate on his desk. As the crystals bounced off each other, they sparked here and there with an unknown blueish energy. Without even leaning in close, he could smell something on the air- it was unmistakably the familiar scent of sea salt. His earlier observations of the crystals through a magnifying lens had already suggested this, and he smiled. It always felt good to confirm your own measurements. But as for the energy, that would be more difficult to identify- first, he would need to determine what was causing it to discharge.

For a while, he sat at his table and attempted different methods to coax the salt into reacting. He tried physical methods such as impact by tossing a very small amount into a pot, but nothing happened. He then tried heating a sample over a burner, and then submerging another tiny sample in water. When none of these things produced a reaction, he began to try chemical exposures. This went on for around an hour, until the doctor had destroyed roughly a quarter of the material. Stopping for a moment, he wondered if he was being too cautious, treating the salts as if they were simply an unknown chemical from the old world. There were mysterious forces at work in this sea, and perhaps he could measure them if he forced them to interact with each other.

He still had the vials of the blood samples he retrieved from the two cursed women on the expedition, although by this point what hadn't dried into a coagulated crust was simply full of lifeless cells. He dropped a few grains of salt into Dos Santos' vial, and there was flash and a very loud "pop" which surprised him so badly that he dropped the vial onto his desk. He quickly snatched it back up again, wiping away a few droplets of spillage. He inserted another few grains, and while it popped again, it was far less extreme. He then uncorked Kuromaki's sample and did the same, and witnessed another discharge. He paused for a moment, a wide grin on his face. He was discovering... something. Something very important.

He took a few steps back and pulled off his glove. Taking out a clean scalpel, he felt compelled to nick himself before taking out a fresh test tube and getting a control sample. Once he was done, he wrapped up the cut and put his glove back on, returned to his desk, and then added a few grains to the vial.

Nothing happened.

Lonstray leaned back triumphantly in his chair, then snatched up a pen. The salt reacts with blood tainted by aetherine exposure.

Outside, on the island, Captain Dobbs and his two teams scoured the newly-discovered settlement. While not as breathtaking as the academy, the Albionians' urgency to locate some historic find began to subside as they grew to appreciate the value of even mundane ruins like these. They began to take notes about the signs of ordinary life, making inferences about the purposes of different buildings, and slowly they began to realize that this was no ordinary city. The lay of the land around its edges didn't make sense, and then they soon identified walls which were not part of any dwelling, but were rather defensive in purpose. This city had once been a walled fortress.

Dobbs' team scouted the perimeter of the fortress walls, searching for any signs of battle. It would make a great deal of difference to the value of the site if the fortress had ever served its intended purpose. However, after several hours, they found no such evidence, and, dejectedly, they wondered what else might have caused the downfall of an apparently self-sufficient settlement. That was, until someone took a closer look at the flagstone of the wall itself. While they had been searching the ground this whole time, it turned out that best evidence of "battle" was etched into the stone, vertical stripes up the entire height of a remaining 18-foot section of the battlement.

"...Claw marks?" Dobbs remarked to himself quietly. In his mind's eye, he pictured the large demonic creature he had fought in one of his dreams. The image had spontaneously appeared in his head, and it suddenly seemed to make sense. There were no signs of warfare outside the city as humans would recognize it because the walls were not meant to defend against human soldiers.

Meanwhile, Reid's team had broken into a cellar which had nearly been buried by the centuries to find it mostly intact. Another round of cheers came from the Albionian explorers, although Dobbs was a bit annoyed when he and his companions had jogged the full distance to find out what the commotion was about, only to discover that Reid's team had located roughly a dozen sealed containers which, due to their location and similarity to similar vessels in the old world, were almost certainly filled with wine.

They glanced around and soon realized that this cellar was also used for another common old world purpose: there were a number of urns and coffins made of crumbling wood lined with rusted iron. This was once a family's crypt, it seemed.
 
Riddle looked on, along with the rest of the group that had accompanied Commander Warren to the island, as the aetherine exploded. And then they watched the aftermath. The screaming as well as the men of the Terror rushing in to save the man that has slipped into the crater. Now there was another problem. There wasn't a safe way to dispose of these artifacts, if they even wanted to destroy them. It was either take them and study them, or leave them be for some future explorer to tamper with. Riddle shook his head. "There's a lesson. Don't blow up the black aetherine." said Riddle, glancing to his men. They all nodded rapidly. He looked back to the medic and the man that had fell into the crater. He'd have hated to have been him. That leg looked nasty.

---
​
Back on Merphrau's Reach, Slater went over the information she had recorded so far. The finds on both islands, the Commander's dreams, Merphrau and the war that had been fought here. She sighed after a while, closing the book. At least they found out where everyone went. They're all dead, apparently. She shut the book, glancing over the necklace they had found. Warren had told her to keep it, and since then, she hadn't tried wearing it. She soon moved over and picked it up, examining it in her hands. Then, after a few moments, she decided to slip it on. It was a lovely color, at least.
 
The wounded man limped his way towards the cover, assisted only by the medic as all the other sailors had shied away in fear. As they reached the rest of the group, the sailors brother came running up to him and supported his walking.
"How do you feel, Mr. Hartmann?" Flint asked with a somewhat sympathetic voice. "It... It don't hurt to much now, sir. But I can't m-move my foot. Doc says it needs to be cut off." Flint looked at the leg of Hartmann and then back to him, "Let's hope this dear lesson sticks with you. Your injury compensation will be adequate, but a leg doesn't grow back." Flint responded.
Hartmann looked at his captain and then to his leg before simply nodding in response.

As Hartmanns brother helped him to the infirmary, the medic stopped and talked to Flint about what they had witnessed in the crater before following the two brothers to the terror. Flint then turned to Riddle. "You're right about one thing, Mr. Riddle. We won't be blowing up any more of those charms." He spoke with a dry tone. "But if Warren has one in his possession, I suggest you tell him to get rid of it as well. Or he can tamper with this foul sorcery if he wants. Gods be damned."
Flint turned around and pointed to the crater, and to it's outer rim where the sailors boot lay. "Not a single drop of that soot touched Mr. Hartmanns skin, and still his leg needs to be amputated. And once it was blown out of the crystals, it reverted back to normal aetherine." He continued as he eyed Riddle intently.
"The blackness in those charms are nothing but corruption and wickedness utilized by a desperate people in their hour of need. It has no place in this world." He concluded before signaling to Rourke to follow as he began walking to the crater to inspect the boot further.
 
Grand Captain Kortova was somewhat at a loss for words. Her initial failure to accessing the demon in the room stung deeply, and Kuromaki's approach didn't help. She still wasn't sure if she was happy or upset that the woman actually managed to do what she couldn't. It made her bristle a little bit, but the near hypnosis-like experience with the mirrors, and consequently her appearance shifting to looking like she had just stepped out of her estate after a long bath and grooming session, stymied her irritation. Indeed, some would find it almost concerning how easily she could calm herself with a look into a mirror. Appearance truly was everything and only fool's said otherwise.

She wasn't the only one. Kuromaki had received a rapid makeover and healing, allowing her to remove her bandages to reveal a fetching face with scars that were fairly dashing. Like a character in an adventure novel, the swashbuckling oriental heroine. As tough as any man on the seas with a mean streak to keep her wicked band of merry pirates in line. It was... admirable? She couldn't divorce her own feelings to those of what the lust statue had put inside of her. Those sensations still lingered off and on.

Kortova settled with adjusting her hat once again to ensure it was neatly in place, and she crossed her arms. "Well, I guess you are okay... I mean, useful," she said with a little hmph, almost like a little character in a play with how theatrical she was with her speech and gestures.

"Have you succeeded, Grand Captain?" Lieutenant Williams called out from the open door, a dozen others around him and peering curiously inside. Kortova pouted ever so slightly at his wording. "Yes, lieutenant, we succeeded. It turned out you needed two people. All is well now, of course. That filthy statue won't be holding us back anymore." She glanced back at Kuromaki before quickly looking away. "Your assistance was invaluable, commissar," Kortova said with only the slightest twitch.

She turned full force towards the doors and pointed again. "Now! That last door, has it opened lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Williams glanced back with everyone else. He studied it for a moment. It had been locked this entire time, making it the subject of much curiosity. He also did not like the inscription on it. A man and woman being dragged downwards by demons, in what appeared to be duress. Hopefully, that wasn't more commands. Williams directed two sailors to try and open it, for everyone to stand further back, and for the marines to ready themselves in case there was trouble. Kortova left the room, gesturing for Kuromaki to follow, and to see if they had unlocked the last door.
 
After the dizziness passed, Dos Santos looked to see that her hands were normal once more along with the rest of her body. A little smile appeared on her face, and she turned to her side to look at Halja. She listened carefully to the entity's explanation, but she didn't expect the revelations of the Goddess professed. Dos Santos could only react with audible confusion. The Goddess revealed to her many things about her past, and gave her insight about the Aether. She showed first hand her mastery over the flesh and her immense knowledge of the soul. It was too much for Dos Santos to take at once but after a minute of silence, she had processed the knowledge that was placed upon her.

She didn't know how to react still. Being an awkward, shy person, she was still stunned over the fact she was facing an actual God. Or a creature of godly powers. "I... I am sorry for failing your test, Lady Halja. Where I come from... praying is a common thing in moments of desperation." Maybe it was best to apologize first. Since instead of thinking about the properties of the stone and a way to use it to revert her mutation, she prayed like her parents would have.

Struggling, Dos Santos got back on her feet. She was still a bit dizzy, but otherwise okay. "Old traditions, I guess. I never forgot...A-at any rate, I... don't know what to tell you miss, I... never expected anything like this. The talk of souls and... flesh..." An idea quickly crossed the researchers mind as she looked at the container of raw aetherite over on her desk. Dos Santos took a few steps over to a sealed container in her laboratory, opening the lid to pull out a piece of raw aetherite. The mineral felt strange on her hand now.

"This raw sample of aetherite, I... we got it from a mine on another island. I was... wondering... after all you've said, does it mean I can... use this?" She looked at the Goddess for a few seconds, before realizing something the goddess mentioned. Her eyes opened wide, and the piece of Aetherite fell from her hand. "...Wait, oh goodness gracious! You are right! I cursed Kuromaki as well! H-how do I reach her?!" She said while putting both hands over her head. "I... I should go to the bridge, and send a signal to the commodore... Or... w-what was the bearded captains name? I..." Dos Santos began to panic a bit while still feeling an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment in front of the goddess.

MEANWHILE...

After countless hacks and slashes, the group managed to save the scout from the terrible tree. Alvarado quickly got up and raised his machete at the trees around them. "Hijos de puta!" he shouted while the rest of his men started to panic a bit. "Everyone! Calm yourself." Alvarado then looked at a lady among the group, short and pale with short red hair and green eyes. "Sheridan, blast that tree!" The little lady smiled and nodded. "Everyone take cover!" she shouted before pulling a stick of dynamite from her bag, lighting it and tossing it at one of the trees. The rest of the crew quickly hid behind whatever cover they could find away from the evil trees. The explosion was definitely going to be heard inside the Correntino as well.
 
Dobbs took a good look around the cellar crypt as best as he could in the dim lighting of the cellar. He felt somewhat uncomfortable being here in the first place, as this was the final resting place of the dead, and it felt to him more like something to leave be rather than something to continue exploring. "Let us leave the dead in peace." Dobbs announced to his men. A few looked disappointed at the prospect of not finding anything here, but Dobbs kept that in mind as he gave a bit of a smile. "You can keep the wine though." As the group emerged from the cellar, Reid and the men he had found the cellar with were each carrying two containers of wine with them. To ensure their safety, the Lieutenant's group made their way back to the landing zone on the island to put the containers onto one of the skiffs that they had traveled on. In the meantime, Dobbs would continue to search the island with his own team for anything else of note. As they continued to explore however, a question entered his mind: If the demon from my dream was similar to what attacked here... what the hell happened? he thought as he looked at the structures of the abandoned fortress.

Back on the Prophet, Lonstray was ecstatic at this new discovery of his. His new hypothesis now indicated that these crystals were used as a reactant agent to aetherine or aetherine exposed substances to deliver a reaction of sorts. As to what purpose these reactions served, Lonstray did not yet understand fully as of yet. But the popping gave him some clues as to what exactly, and he postulated that it could have been perhaps to deliver a sort of reaction similar to gunpowder. He would require more testing to ensure this, but testing would require more of this crystalline substance. He thought for a moment as to where they might find more but none came to mind. It would have to be on the to-do list for further explorations further into the zone. He opted to stop for the day with his studies, sealing the vial with the crystals up again and taking off his goggles and gloves.

Now in a particularly good mood, Lonstray decided to collect one of those vases from Constellar Isle that had coal dust and what seemed to be aetherite in it. Something stored like that must be valuable for some reason, and as such the scientist collected a few of his assistants as well as some sailors and departed back to the island's academy upon a skiff to carry out his goal.
 
Things slowed down on the main island after the disastrous attempt to destroy black aetherine. Despite the unfortunate consequences, there was no denying that it had produced new developments which could be studied. When the black particles within the glass had been scattered by the explosion, they became much more dangerous than if they remained in their original form. Coming too close to these exposed particles seemed to transform them into particles of red aetherine, at the cost of one crewman's leg; particles on the opposite side of the crater remained in their black form. Based on these limited observations, the researchers present, along with the doctoral staff, tentatively concluded that the black aetherine had somehow stolen life from a living being in order to reach an inert form, which is what they communicated to Captain Flint when he arrived to inspect the situation.

The Alamannian researchers soon hypothesized: if red aetherine glass can be created from either blue aetherite or black aetherine particles, could the blue and black be viewed as positive and negative polarities? And if so... could it be possible to do the opposite of what had been seen that day? Could it be possible to, instead of stealing life away, give it back to damaged or dying flesh to revitalize it?

An opportunity would possibly arise on the Commodore's arrival, which occurred shortly thereafter. The Nixe reached the main island and once again deployed a gangplank onto the crumbling sea wall. Detlev was the first to descend and greet the others, and requested that anyone wishing to speak with Meinhardt come aboard, as his injuries were so severe that it would be ill-advised to allow him to leave the infirmary. He then joined the inspection of the crater to learn of what had prompted the detonation and of the consequences that followed. While he seemed rather irritated by Captain Flint's gung-ho attitude toward the rare artifacts recovered from the expedition, he didn't allow his emotions to show.

"We're lucky that Mr. Hartmann only lost his lower leg," Detlev concluded. "Given how little we know about these things, the man might have been killed for his curiosity. At the very least, the injury makes clear that handling the dust is going to be impossible for us at the moment. If physical protection isn't enough to avoid contamination then we will need to simply leave it as-is. Perhaps we can place a sort of marker warning future expeditions against approaching it..."

Commander Warren, standing nearby, could see a black haze drifting above the surface of the crater where the particles lay, and a particularly vibrant red glow from the red aetherine crystals that had appeared. However, he had remained silent up to this point, as there was nothing to indicate to him that others couldn't see the haze at all. He was alone in this observation.

---​

Elsewhere, on Merphrau's Reach, Slater paused a while before slipping on the coral pendant. After all, everything in this cursed sea seemed to have some kind of ill effect on the visiting crews; it seemed reasonable to avoid exposing herself to unnecessary risk, and yet, after the Commander's encounter with Merphrau, perhaps she could trust the artifacts related to the mysterious winged mermaid... She slipped it on and froze, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, and after a while, she examined the trinket once more while it was still hanging from her neck. It seemed to be inert, at least for now. Letting out a sigh which contained relief and disappointment in the same breath, she moved on. Perhaps it would do something later if certain conditions were met, or maybe it was just a neat little bauble.

---
​
On Island VI, Grand Captain Kortova and Ensign Kuromaki joined the rest of the Sokrovian team within the demonic antechamber after the latter had retrieved her fur-lined cap. The final door, which they hoped to unlock once they had gained the blessing of all four archdemons, was still shut tight, eliciting another huff from Kortova and a grimace from the commissar. Two men were pushing as hard as they could against the door, but Williams called them back quickly. If the door wouldn't budge, then it was probably controlled by magic and wouldn't move even if a hundred were pushing against it. Experimentally, Kortova and Kuromaki each took a turn trying to open it themselves, but neither succeeded.

Oddly, the door did move when the Grand Captain laid into it, but just slightly. It was better than anyone else had done, which helped soothe Kortova's ego. Kuromaki, on the other hand, seemed almost insulted when she failed to replicate this movement. So shortly after she had found the key to Panok's blessing, she had now appeared useless in front of the Archangel's crew, damaging her hopes to join them.

---
​
Halja watched with curiosity as her new student crossed the laboratory and opened a container full of raw aetherite, and a bemused smile appeared on her face. "You hold in your hand the raw energy of life itself. In time, you'll wonder how you could possibly 'use' anything without the help of aether. For now, you should practice learning to extract it from the stone. Take a piece in your left hand, like this-" she said, picking up a chunk of the blue mineral, "and then hold your other hand... about here," she continued, placing her right hand about an inch away from its surface. "Now, watch."

The stone had a slight blue aura, appearing like flames, which seemed to circle idly around Halja's left hand, and then, as a faint glow entered the deity's irises, this aura passed onto her right hand. Dos Santos watched transfixed as the goddess pulled this energy further and further from the stone's surface, before the connection broke, although a portion of the aura remained in her clinched right hand. When she opened it, it drifted into the air before seemingly being vacuumed back into the mineral.

"Practice this, and meditate on the sensations," Halja said. "Learn to control it enough to hold it in your hand, as I did. Only then can you differentiate the qualities of what you are controlling. And don't be reckless; I could take my influence out of your friend by coming in contact with her aura, taking her hand as I did for you, as I can tell my work apart from nature. If you try to do what I did without caution, you could easily rip the soul out of her body and kill her instantly." Halja waited a moment before allowing herself to laugh at the doctor's concerned expression, and then explained- "well, not quite, that was a joke. There's not enough aether contained in that entire bin to equal a human soul. You would need to be very powerful indeed to hold such a thing in your hand, as I can. No... helping that poor woman will be easy for you.

"Just take the stone with my marking to her. You will sense its enchanted aura as you hold it in your left hand, and then, with your right, simply pull that same essence out of her and guide it back to the stone, just like bees returning to the hive to make honey. She'll return to her natural form, then, although... well, never mind, you've heard my thoughts on the matter." At that moment, there was a thunderous explosion from the island, and for a split second, Halja's appearance turned rather frightening as she turned to face the island, before subsiding. "Fools..." she muttered under her breath. "I will return eventually, Doctor. Practice what I've shown you, and... experiment, as much as you can," she added with a smirk before exploding into a sort of mist, dissipating into the wall before re-materializing outside the ship in the form of a large eagle and taking flight over the island.

Onshore, the explosion had blown the tree wide open, exposing its hideous maw before it began to splinter apart and tip over backwards. Instantly, there was a shuddering that seemed to travel throughout the entire jungle. The dark, iridescent trees began to shift and move, as if agitated by the shock and the sound of the explosion. Smoke and embers began to flow out of the first tree's remains, and soon a fire began to rise. Alvarado's team, hiding behind what few rocks and fallen logs there were around them were still formulating a plan to retreat out of the dangerous wood when several other trees cracked open, sending out their vines in search of prey. Instantly, one endangered man became eight, and it seemed entirely possible that Alvarado's entire team would be slaughtered by trees.

That was when, as if a miracle were occurring, a massive eagle swooped into the undergrowth and set down on the smoldering stump of the first tree. It spread its wings, turning calmly on its feet despite the ring of fire around it, and soon, the trees released each of the Correntino's crew one by one. Then, the subtle glow within the trunks dissipated, leaving them all in an ordinary wood. The eagle beat its mighty wings and disappeared out of a small hole in the canopy. The fire continued to smolder in front of them as they stood in confused and terrified silence.

---
​
Dobbs departed the crypt, deciding to leave the dead where they lay and forgo any discovery which might have been made there. Instead, he made another sweep of the ruined city and this time found an intact mural which had been overlooked by the first attempts. The mural seemed to depict the city's harvest cycle, a nearby mining operation, and the work of scribes. One depiction attracted his attention: a man carrying a large barrel on his shoulder was pouring a white substance as he walked behind himself, apparently salting the same fields where the Altanics were growing their crops. He hoped that he was mistaken; this city was far too advanced to have fallen victim to poor soil maintenance in the crop fields, could it?

He walked off shaking his head, and continued his search along with his team, although nothing else was turned up. Elsewhere, research was still on hold aboard the Prophet, and Dr. Lonstray had departed for Constellar Isle to gather the mysterious mixture of what appeared to be aetherite and coal dust. He would return roughly two hours later with a large amount of the substance.

---
​
It was now around 2PM. The heat had turned from hot and dry to positively arid in its hostility. Across the entire chain of islands, the crews of the different vessels began to shed their outer uniforms if permitted, and sought out water and shade to avoid collapse. It was unclear how much hotter the weather could get, and this caused morale to sink across the entire fleet. Some officers even advised their captains to call for a full withdrawal off land, back to the ships where the crew could rest and wait the heat out. Nowhere was the frustration higher than on Island VI, where the crew of the of the Archangel were being ordered to search and sift through the same sands yet again while also being forbidden to touch anything they found without the officers' approval. Many had given up this task and were taking the opportunity to swim to cool off, which helped reduce the tensions, but they weren't quite able to shake the feeling of futility, as their relaxation was interrupted almost constantly by gunshots.

There were sharpshooters on the shoreline who were trying to keep marine life away from the crew. Although they were quite accurate, the men and women they were protecting were still weary, and many simply sat in the shallow water at the beach line in consternation. On top of all of this, there were lingering questions about what was happening in the buried chambers under the island, and the arrival of the Shinjuku spy didn't go unnoticed.
 
The mural's depiction of someone salting the crops was indeed strange as it was a sure way to kill whatever food was growing. He took a look around again, trying to ponder as to what exactly happened. There was signs of a battle, indeed, but now this? Dobbs wasn't sure that this was accidental, as people tending to crops usually know what they are doing in the first place. And so the only conclusion he could come to was that it was sabotage, and that this mural depicted a traitorous act being carried out against the people's of this city. By this point, the weather had became rather hostile in heat and Dobbs led his men back to the treeline near the shore so the group could rest for some time. Some of the men took to drinking some of the wine to quench their thirst, while Dobbs sent a telegram to the Prophet to order some additional supplied be brought on shore.

A skiff was sent with additional water in several dozen canteens for the expeditionary group to drink from. The shade provided by the trees was nice and provided some shelter from the sun, but the heat was still quite strong. Dobbs pondered whether or not to continue any additional exploration on the island, as his men were starting to become bogged down by this insufferable weather. Ultimately, Dobbs decided to make one last trek through the isle to see if anything else could be found of note before returning to the ship for the day and thus ending exploration of today. First order of business was getting some of the fruits they had encountered earlier, and so the expedition made their way back to where the fruit trees were to collect some food as well as samples for the last search before beginning the search for the mine that was mentioned by the mural.

---
​
Having returned with his mixtures of aetherite and coal dust, Lonstray had them sent to his lab as he would prepare to examine them as well in the same vain as he had with the crystal cubes beforehand. Once more after arriving back in the lab aboard the Prophet, Lonstray donned goggles and gloves as well as a face mask this time and prepared to start experimenting on the mixture. He was sure that he would find something interesting with this as well and was confident in his own abilities to make yet another breakthrough of some kind.
 
Warren eyed the haze floating above the aetherine for a few moments, before a pulse of pain shot through his head. He rubbed his temple, pressing against the bandage around his head. He had been unconcious for most of the day, after the hard whack he took from the mummy back inside the pyramid. At least Petty Officer Neilson was alright. He glanced towards Riddle after a few moments, before speaking. "I'll speak to Meinhardt. You and the men get ready for when we head back to the Jackal. And stay hydrated. The sun's beating down pretty badly."

Riddle saluted, before rounding his men up. Meanwhile, Warren went aboard the Nixe, heading straight for the medical bay to speak with the Commodore about his most recent dream and the black aetherite he woke up with.
 
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