Turns out, when someone has had new prosthetics attached, no matter how advanced they may be, it will take a long time to adjust to. That oversight in critical thinking is what led to Alistair flailing around on the ground like an epileptic fish when he had tried to instantly stand up. Numerous attempts soon followed, most with Parsival's assistance, only to result in roughly the same way.
That is how Alistair found himself being carried by his new companion as the two of them made their way through the ancient facility. Part of him wanted to complain about how absolutely useless he felt in the moment, but even his pride knew when it was time to just shut up and admit when he needed help. However he did internally wish Parsival would have picked something other than the princess carry when lugging him around.
Keeping his grumblings to himself, the duo traveled for what felt like hours, passing by branching halls and closed off rooms. Some of the rooms had a window to let him see inside, if it weren't still dark as all hell. For much of their journey, the only source of light was the natural red and blue glow produced by Parsival. Every so often they did find more of those glowing pale blue mushrooms, but something about them unnerved Alistair.
The obvious clue that had him keeping his eye on any they passed was the fact that they only seemed to grow from piles of rubble. Without fail, whenever the two came across piles of stone or metal where a wall collapsed or a section of the ceiling fell, there were mushrooms growing from it. There was something else about the situation as a whole that tickled at his instincts, like something was missing.
His eyes went wide and he took another, albeit useless, look around them before asking, “Where are all the bodies?”
“Pardon Mr. Grant?”
“The bodies” He repeated still looking around, confusion evident on his face, “I get that this place if old as fuck, but there should still be evidence of bodies. Didn’t you say this place was active right up until this thing you called the collapse?”
Parsival was silent for a moment, his own head scanning around the hallway they walked through. He even paused at the next windowed room and took a moment to get a good look at the inside, part of Alistair now wondering if he could see in the dark.
“I do believe you bring up an excellent observation Mr. Grant.” he stated, his tone a little distant, like he was deep in thought. “I recall there being activity, the researchers were going about their usual duties,” He trailed off for a second before picking back up, if a bit slower. “We had received news of the collapse, of the military fighting back against a threat, but those who were here were not fighters. They were scholars so the decisions had been made to go into a full lockdown. All entrances and exits were sealed until the situation was resolved.” He trailed off again, and this time Alistair could feel a pang of sadness come across their connection as he assumed Parsival was searching through memories.
“The situation was never resolved. We stopped receiving information from the surface, and eventually supplies began to run low. I attempted to stretch what he had, to last as long as possible. Fighting began to break out, and then the casualties began.” Parsival explained, his tone held together in a professional matter, but Alistair could feel the turmoil as his companion remembered the past.
“Those who did not perish during the initial event of the collapse, were all gone within the first century” Parsival explained, his tone controlled and professional, if strained.
The two went silent for a long moment as the weight of what was said laid bare before them. Alistair had experienced loss before, it was an unfortunate companion to being a soldier in the army. Over the course of his three deployments, experiencing the loss of someone he had served with, shared meals with and fought alongside. However he doubted it could compare to watching everyone he knew slowly die off over the years, fighting and killing each other for scraps of food.
He shook his head to dismiss the train of thought, as it would do him no good to focus on something like that. They still had no answer as to why there were no bodies in sight despite Parsival saying there should be quite a few.
“You were part of this place right?” Alistair brought up, “Didn’t you have a way to look around and see what happened?”
“You are correct to assume that Mr. Grant” the large knight answered with a nod, "Unfortunately, surveillance functions were among the first to be disabled in order to maximize power reserves.”
Yeah, he supposed that would make sense, after all if everyone inside was dead, there would have been no need to keep the cameras on. Alistair thought about it some more, trying his best to come up with an explanation.
“What about scavengers or treasure hunters?” He asked, feeling like the idea had merit, “Could people like that have come inside after a while and taken everyone's bodies?”
Parsival was already shaking his head before answering, “While I may have deactivated the main surveillance systems, the one I kept active would alert me anytime an individual attempted to access the entrance.”
Alistair sighed and went to cross his arms, but only succeeded in flopping his left arm around in jerky motions. While the lack of bodies was concerning, it would probably be more beneficial to learn how to properly control his new body parts. That way he wouldn’t need to rely on Parsival to carry him around all the time. So he did just that, putting all of his focus on feeling out his new limbs, seeing how they moved and how they felt.
Once he started to actually focus on it, he found progress to be much faster than he feared. His previous experience with physical therapy resulted in not being able to walk for weeks. However this time, it took him only maybe an hour of focus and practice before he was able to gain a semblance of control over his left arm.
The overall feeling of moving the limb was odd to say the least. He could still feel it in a way, but not in the same manner as a normal arm. The best way he could describe it would be if someone had their entire arm coated in thick leather. The movements felt awkward but manageable and touching something only resulted in a sense of pressure.
Once he was confident he was gaining a handle on his new body, Alistair had requested for Parsival to set him down and help him walk. His first steps went about as well as he expected, nearly planting his face on the ground. Thankfully Parsival was quick to act and caught him before he could give the cold floor a loving embrace. From there, Alistair continued to practice while holding onto one of the knight's large arms.
For the next few sections of the truly massive facility, the two slowly walked their way through to wherever Parsival was guiding them towards. Alistair still kept an eye out for any of the missing bodies, but most of his focus was keeping his steps even and as coordinated as he could. Something that he found to have odd results as he seemed to reach a peak of capability.
Overall he was more than pleased with how quickly he was able to gain a strong sense of control, but no matter what he tried or how hard he pushed there was still a sense of wrongness. He supposed it was probably due to the fact he just wasn't used to having prosthetics, but something about his movements felt off.
He was pulled from his concentration when the pair crossed an opening and they entered a truly massive open complex. The closest thing he could compare what he saw to are the large multistory malls that large cities had. Even with the surprisingly abundant lighting from both piles of mushrooms and glowing moss coating the walls, he could barely see from one wall to the next.
The cavernous room extended far into the distance where Alistair could make out a surprisingly strong blue glow, however something about it made him nervous. Numerous walkways lined the walls, along with bridges connecting each one at regular intervals. He assumed Parsival felt the same way about the distant glow as they stopped upon entering.
“Uh, you said this place was out of juice right?” Alistair asked while they eyed the far off blue coloring.
“Indeed Mr. Grant. That glow is not the product of any power source of the facility.” He confirmed, his own concern coming through their connection. “Let us proceed, I believe reaching our exit should be done with a level of haste.”
Alistair let out a sigh, but ultimately agreed then allowed the Knight to scoop him back up. As much as he would prefer to be able to walk on his own, he understood the necessity of speed at the moment. With renewed vigor, Parsival bounded down the cavern at a steady jog. His taloned feet clanking against the stone floor, the sound partially echoing around them.
In less than a minute they reached a long ramp that rose up to the next level of walkways. From there they proceed to cross bridges, go up more ramps and climb high enough Alistair couldn't see the floor anymore. He never had an issue with heights, but he had to admit it was a little different when the bottom was out of sight. As they made their way to wherever Parsival was taking them, Alistair once more kept eyeing every pile of rubble they passed by and noting the glowing blue mushrooms growing from them. He couldn’t help but compare the blue of the mushrooms to the distant glow in the distance.
“Here we are Mr. Grant” Parsival said, pulling Alistair’s attention back to their immediate surroundings.
They had stopped in front of a door more elaborate than some of the others they had passed by. It was located at the very end of one of the walkways near the ceiling. The door was arched compared to the usual square shape, and was wider as well, a near invisible seam splitting it down the middle.
“This some kind of emergency exit?” He asked
“Not exactly, Mr. Grant.” Parsival answered as he stepped forward and reached out to a small, raised panel just to the right of the door. “This is the personal office for section lead Rykker.” With a dull blue flash from the panel, the doors softly hissed then slid to either side.
“I thought you said this place was out of power?” Alistair frowned, looking up at the knight's head.
“That is true for the main facility Mr. Grant, however, Section lead Rykker held a separate reserve of power for his office for the very reason we came here.” Parsival explained, his tone trailing off toward the end as he stared through the open door.
Alistair shifted to gain a better look inside and froze upon seeing what his companion had spotted. The office was on the larger side, the remnants of long since rotted wooden furniture scattered off to the sides. Sitting towards the middle and back of the room sat a beautiful and elegant desk that looked to be made of either glass or perhaps even crystal.
What was concerning however was the cluster of pale, glowing blue mushrooms peaking up from behind the oversized desk. He had already held an uneasy feeling towards the odd fungus, but the odd placement for this particular bundle only skyrocketed his distrust.
Parsival carefully set Alistair down, ensuring he could stay upright on his own before stepping into the office, his spear held out in a ready position. Alistair followed right behind him, not exactly sure what he could really do to help but also not willing to run. The two had barely made it a few steps into the room when, to Alistair disgust and minor horror, the mushrooms shifted in a twitchy manner. They rose higher into the air in jerky shuddering pace until the two laid their eyes upon nightmare fuel.
A shriveled and practically mummified corpse stood facing them, the cluster of mushrooms growing from where the things head should have been. Clothes that looked surprisingly intact hung loosely on the boney frame as the thing lunged forward, only to be stopped as it bumped into the desk that stood between them.
“You got to be fucking joking!” Alistair exclaimed, taking a single step back at the sight of what could only be called a damn fungal zombie.
Parsival on the other hand surged forward without a word, his spear coming up and launching at the thing. The massive weapon briefly screamed through the air before punching through the creature's chest and picking it up to be pinned against the back wall. Despite what would have been a fatal wound on anything else, it continued to flail uselessly towards them, its boney claws reaching for them.
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Instincts took hold of Alistair as he focused on the situation, his flight or fight kicking into overdrive. His gaze examined every inch of the walking corpse but it didn't take him long to figure out a likely weakness.
“Zombie rules! Go for the head!” He called out to his companion.
He had barely finished speaking when the large knight blurred into action, his metallic body vaulting over the desk. With brutal efficiency, his taloned hands lashed out to tear through the fungal growths. The mushrooms were torn right off the corpse before being scattered off to the side, their glow instantly paling until they could barely be seen. A sharp tug later, and Parsival held his spear again, the body dropping only to be caught by the knight then carefully laid out onto the desk.
Parsival gazed down upon the shriveled corpse, his head hung low, his shoulders sagging slightly. Alistair carefully made his way over, feelings of loss coming across their connection as he approached the desk.
“Is this who I think it is?” he asked leaning on the desk for support as he examined the body as best as he could in the dimming light.
“This is, or was Section lead Rykker Mr. Grant” Parsival said, his gaze shifting up to him for a moment before reaching under the desk. A moment later, soft red tinted light illuminated the room and Alistair had to blink a couple times at the sudden light. He nodded his thanks towards Parsival and even took an extra second to properly examine his new companion.
To say he looked impressive was an understatement. Being able to see the finer details allowed Alistair to notice that his entire metallic body was covered in thin, almost elegant, designs that traced themselves all over in a dull silver color. A closer look and he realized that the design gave the impression of large feathers carved directly into the metal plates.
With some hesitation, he looked away from Parsival and glanced down at his own body. When he had looked at it earlier, he thought he had seen all there was to see, but the light Parsival was able to give off wasn’t quite enough to see in detail. Looking down now, he couldn't stop from wincing at the sight of his full condition.
He was correct with his earlier assessment on the fact that while everything was done well, it was still crude. His arm and legs especially looked as if an expert on prosthetics was given nothing but broken scrap and told function was all that mattered. Each piece looked to have been jammed together until they formed the rough appearance of a limb before being welded together with glass, or perhaps crystal. Gaps and grooves could still be seen in various sections, some large enough he could peak through his entire arm.
Something he was pleased about however was all the joints seemed to have held much more focus on ensuring the quality. His elbow moved smoothly and held a good degree of motion range. His fingers could only really curl in or out, but his thumb could move around a bit more. His feet were a little different considering he no longer had toes, just one wide curved plate that he could move like it was one big flat toe.
He moved to take a closer look at his torso and grimaced at the rough looking parts where his normal flesh and skin met with the metal that was now essentially his left side. To him, it looked as if he had been wearing a suit of armor, only for it to have been shattered and melted onto his body at the same time. That same crystal welding crossed all over giving a weblike appearance originating from just under his left ribs. The finger thick cables that wrapped around like ribs were at least evenly spaced but did look to converge near his heart, something he wasn’t sure on how to feel.
Alistair let out a heavy sigh before turning his attention back to the corpse on the desk. He was astonished at the state of the clothes it was still dressed in. He figured they should have followed the example the rest of furniture had set and been reduced to clumps of scrap and dust by now. Yet not only were they still intact, they were even clean and in near perfect condition.
Starting at the bottom he could see a pair of thick leather boots that ran up to mid calf, four sets of well made buckles that looked like crescent moons holding them tight. Above the boots were a pair of deep navy blue pants, the seams colored a rich green. Holding the pants up was a thick black belt that had a silver buckle that was engraved with what could only be two moons on either side of a mountain peak.
Covering the body's torso was a rich forest green long sleeved shirt that buttoned up the middle, its seams the same blue as the pants. The buttons themselves were a brilliant gray with streaks of blue, and looked to be a similar pattern to one of the moons on the belt buckle. A simple, yet elegant looking vest in the same deep blue of the pants hung open, its own set of buttons having been left undone.
He was pulled from his examination when Parsival turned away and leaned down to pick something up. When he stood, he set down a long overcoat next to the body. It was in the same deep blue as most of the clothes, but was trimmed in pale gray with brilliant streaks of forest green dancing along the sleeves and up the back until they circled around two full moons. One was the same brilliant gray with thick grooves of blue across it, almost as if a beast clawed the celestial body. The other moon was smaller in size but a pale green in color, with those same blue streaks but going across in the other direction. To finish it off a thick hood hung loosely from the collar of the coat and Alistair could tell the entire thing was designed to be both beautiful as well as effective.
“Got to admit, I may not be a fashion expert but this guy knew how to dress” He remarked as he ran his actual fingers along the material of the coat, marveling at the soft texture. He remembered his old science teacher who kept a pet chinchilla in her classroom and couldn't help but compare the two in terms of softness.
“Indeed Mr. Grant.” Parsival nodded as he leaned down to pick something else up from the floor. “Section lead Rykker held two loves in his heart, research and his clothes. The other researchers had even calculated that he spent more of his earnings on clothes than he did food. This particular outfit was among his favorites as it incorporated his veneration for the Twin gods Ushil and Valis, while remaining functional and practical.”
As he spoke, the other item he had retrieved from behind the desk was placed upon the coat with a dull thunk. Upon first glance at it, Alistair thought it was a simple branch until he got a better look. The item did indeed hold the visual appearance of a wooden branch, but only if it were carved directly out of a block of steel. The item was roughly the length of a walking can, decently thick and possessed an egg sized gem looking as if a sapphire was fused with a chunk of amber. Vibrant beads of red and violet were pinpointed throughout the gem, as if they were sparks ready to create a roaring flame, but were instead frozen in time, never to create a blaze.
He let out an appreciative whistle at the beauty and craftsmanship that was put into the cane. He was not a craftsman or anything like that, but after years of handling different weapons and gear, he could recognize when true skill and effort was put into something. Seeing the entire ensemble laid out before him, he was able to gauge a rough idea of what kind of person this Rykker guy was, and he let his opinion be known.
“Whoever this Rykker guy was, I can tell he held some true passion as well as sense” He stated before gesturing toward a section of the coat's upper body, “I can see that he had his coat designed to provide a semblance of protection while keeping it comfortable. I can see the cloth was sewn over a thicker material, probably leather, and designed to cover vital areas when buttoned.”
Parsival nodded to indicate he was correct, but Alistair frowned when it finally clicked in his head what was wrong.
“But, if this is who you say it is, and it's been as long as you said, how in the hell are they not dust by now?” He asked, looking up at the knight.
“That is the expensive part Mr. Grant,” He explained with an amused chuckle, “Section Lead Rykker had every article of clothing he owned possess the strongest imbuements he could obtain. This set in particular he called in quite a few favors to gain access to inscribers that only the most powerful or wealthy could normally use. Each article of clothing you see before you can self-repair, block out most weather, self-clean, dry and even adjust to perfectly fit the wearer.”
“No Shit?” Alistair exclaimed, his jaw nearly hanging open, an odd sense of jealousy warming its way into his heart
“I, uh, no I do believe they will work even on excrement Mr. Grant” Parsival answered, confusion thick in his tone to which Alistair shook his head
“It's an expression” Alistair replied waving his hand while shaking his head, “But how does something like that work?”
“Imbuements Mr. Grant” Came the simple reply
Alistair let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He shouldn’t have been surprised, after all he was talking to a few thousand year old spirit in magical armor that he can just pop in and out of his own chest. He should just accept that the answer is magic and move on from there.
“You should have them Mr. Grant” Parsival stated and Alistair nearly gave himself whiplash when his head shot back up to the knight.
“Wait, what?” He asked, caught completely off guard and not sure if he heard correctly.
“You should have these clothes Mr. Grant.” Parsival repeated, this time leaning in a little closer, his taloned hand tapping the chest of the body. “And the reasoning is rather simple considering you currently do not possess anything to cover yourself with, something I fear would be an issue as we do not know the current condition of the climate outside. Second, as I said, the imbuements on these are top of the line and will all but guarantee you will not need to worry about tearing them, getting them dirty or what the weather will be. Third and most important, I knew Section lead Rykker and how much he loved his clothes. He would much rather a complete stranger claim and wear his clothing than let it sit, forgotten in the dust.”
As much as Alistair wanted to, he couldn’t really find any holes in the argument to poke. He wasn’t the biggest fan of wearing the clothes of a dead man, especially one that was just walking around trying to eat him, but Parsival made sense. So after a moment, and with some reluctance, he sighed and nodded his agreement.
“Excellent Mr. Grant” Parsival said with a nod of his own, “Allow me to remove them for you. Give the imbuements a few moments to do their work and they shall be spotless.
Despite the assurance, Alistair gave it a solid ten minutes before he began to get dressed. He had barely gotten the pants and shirt on, when something tickled at his senses. He frowned and looked up at Parsival who expressed similar confusion across their connection. They both looked around for a bit trying to see what caught their attention but failed to notice anything.
Alistair put more effort in getting the rest of the clothes on just a little faster, only struggling with the numerous buttons. His new fingers were taking some time adjusting to finer movements, but he managed. He was forced to sit down to get the boots on as he did not possess the needed balance to do it standing, nearly smashing his face into the desk when he tried.
Buckles secured and tight, both shirt and vest buttoned, all that remained was getting the belt on. Parsival thankfully stepped in and assisted him without needing to be asked when he observed the difficulty Alistair was having. The odd way that the sense of touch was transmitted through his new parts made it more difficult than he expected when trying to loop the belt around through the pant loops.
Once more his senses as well as his instincts tingled and the two looked up again, only this time their attention was directed towards the jammed open door. Alistair barely had time to admire the quality of his new clothes, or how well they seemed to fit without pinching or tugging at any one point. Instead that attention to detail was trained directly on the open gap in the door, on the fact something out there was sending a chill down his spine.
Parsival noticed it as well and without a word handed Alistair both the overcoat and the metal cane before taking up his spear in both hands, and cautiously stepping over to the door. In the illuminated interior of the room, Alistair noticed for the first time that the curved plate of metal he had seen on his companion’s back, did in fact look to be a shield of sorts and was in the shape of a pair of folded wings. At least he assumed it was a shield, and if he were being honest he would not be surprised if he found out they actually were wings considering the whole raven thing going on.
He shook his head to refocus, carefully slipped the coat on while keeping his eyes on the door, then held the cane up in a defensive position. He made sure to stay close to the desk so he would have something to lean against in case his balance failed him again, then waited, and observed.
When the realization struck him, Alistair wanted to slap himself. He settled for letting out a sharp curse and trying to call out to Parsival, but it was too late. What he had noticed, something that would have been much more obvious without the lights in the room, was the blue glow surrounding the area just outside the door. A shriveled, unclothed figure, lunged into the gap where the doors had jammed open right as he was about to call out.
Jagged bony claws, entwined with thin root-like growths reached out towards the large knight who responded with speed and precision. A single sweep of his spear severed the grasping limb at the elbow and was followed by a powerful kick that shot the creature back through the door.
“Mr. Grant you must leave now!” Parsival called without looking back.
“Would love to buddy, but I don't see another way out” He shot back as adrenaline began to race throughout his body, all while looking around to see if he missed something.
“Go to the wall directly behind the desk, one meter from the right wall there will be a hidden groove. Pull it down, twist right ninety degrees then pull to the left until it clicks. Hurry Mr. Grant” Parsival explained rapidly as more of the fungal zombies tried to claw their way into the room. Alistair assumed they would get in each other's way, but the efficiency on which they operated around each other was extremely disturbing.
With nothing better to do, or any real way for him to assist, he shuffle ran his way around the desk to the section of the wall Parsival had explained. It took him far longer than he would half like to find the groove, but he remained calm while doing so, not letting himself panic. His fingers found the groove, carefully carved into the stone to be near invisible, and pulled it down.
A smooth circular patch of the stone wall slid down roughly a foot until it came to a sudden stop. Twisting his hand, the circle of stone rotated clockwise ninety degrees then stopped again. Ignoring the sounds of fighting behind him, he moved his hand to the left, the stone following. The circle patch came to a stop with a resounding click, followed by a grinding rumble. With a slow methodic rumble, nearly half of the wall in the center rose up.
A long dark tunnel extended off into the distance, and as far as Alistair could see it was hand carved. No lights could be seen and he turned around to see the situation with Parsival. He cursed upon seeing the veritable horde attempting to push past the large knight, filling the area past the door and squeezing into the gap. The dual bladed spear was a blur in his taloned hands, carving off limbs and mushrooms alike, a pile of carved shriveled corpses strewn around him.
“Down the tunnel Mr. Grant!” He called out, lashing out with a kick that crumpled the torso of a fungal zombie. “I shall hold here. Dismiss my form when you reach the end!” A taloned hand shot out and latched onto the arm of one that attempted to get past, only to whip it around and slam it into another. Ancient bones shattering into dust at the impact.
As much as Alistair wanted to stay, to help his new companion fight, he knew it would not work. Even with all the practice he had been getting with his new limbs, there was still that odd imbalance he held, as if his entire body was just off kilter a few degrees. So instead of putting them both at risk and getting in the way, he grit his teeth, and stepped into the tunnel.
