Disappointingly, the next few rooms were some kind of barracks instead of more armouries. Virgil supposed that it made some sort of sense. Having the barracks near the weapons locker was a common enough arrangement. He wondered what kind of defensive gear they used though. The armoury had no armour. Just weapons.

The door directly across the armoury led to a small set of chambers, probably for the commanding officer. That it was near the exit to the garden above made sense to him, too. The next few doors on either side were long rooms with bunks. Bereft of mattresses, of course. There were just metal frames, about a dozen sets per room. There was a wooden locker beside each bed but the lightest touch made one disintegrate into piles of rotten wood. The lockers were mostly empty.

The hallway with the barracks eventually opened up to a bigger hallway, much like the first intersection they encountered. The ceiling was about ten paces or more high at some places and they were at least twenty to thirty paces wide. This one looked undamaged.

“North or south?” Virgil asked.

“Let’s go that way.” Sarra pointed north. “I have a good feeling about it.”

“Intuition?”

“What else?” Sarra shrugged. “I rarely get strong twinges like this.”

“Well, let’s go.”

Virgil and the others marched north along the giant hallway. He could see that Balliol, Craig, and Amiri had doubts about following Sarra’s intuition on this but they didn’t understand. Or, rather, they knew but didn’t take it to heart.

Inquisitors were a special breed. They were all ordained at Realmheart, the Imperial Capital plane. Most of what happened there was a mystery and even Sarra couldn’t articulate what she experienced. But one thing he knew, and not from the Inquisitor, but from his wife, Sadeen, was that it involved the Fateweaver Loom, a powerful artefact only the Verdant Empress could use. When they had these ‘twinges’, it was certain that it meant something--even if it wasn’t readily apparent.

The northern route took them several hours to traverse before they wound up at a dead end. There was a huge metal door in front of them but they had no idea how to open it. There weren’t any side doors or passages along the way either.

“I suppose we’re walking back,” Balliol grumbled.

Virgil’s internal clock told him that the sun had already set by the time they made it halfway through but they decided to push on until they managed to return to the barracks where they had a meal and rested.

Thankfully, there was a toilet and bath in the chamber connected to the barracks, though there wasn’t any running water. It was a common bathing area and it smelled as dry and dusty as everything else so far. Virgil made do with the facilities.

After breakfast, they proceeded down the southern route and almost immediately came across an open door. It led to more hallways, more empty rooms, and more dust.

“We’re slowly moving west, I think,” Craig said after a while. “All of the long hallways curve that way, though the west-east hallways are relatively straight. I guess the structure is like a wheel with spokes?”

“Then whatever we’re looking for is probably in the centre,” Virgil concluded.

“Aye.”

For the next several days, the team meticulously mapped the hallways, intersections, and chambers. Craig shared the map he drew on his crystal tablet with the rest of them by creating Animus tethers between each device. They could only sync up the devices at the end of the day since it took a couple of hours for the information to transfer and collate properly.

Afterwards, a map would project itself on the screen, with green dots marking where Craig set up beacons previously. His guess was correct that they were in a slice of an enormous pie and they’d mapped maybe two percent of the structure.

They found another armoury containing sidearms, arming swords, combat knives, and a rod that emitted a freezing cloud when Animus was fed into it. It didn’t work for Amiri though. The rod almost melted when she fed it her Animus. When Balliol used it with his Facet, he was able to create shards of ice instead of the formless cloud. He couldn’t control it as easily as his wind knives so he passed up on keeping it.

During the evenings, Sarra tinkered with the weapons, trying to see what made them tick.

“How can it be? There’s no runescript, but it clearly demonstrates runescribed effects!” she yelled one evening. The weapons were simple, solid things. There was nothing to dismantle, nothing to read on its surface. “How is it hidden? It can’t be anything but runescripted items!”

“When we bring it back we can give it to the scholars and have them figure it out,” Balliol chuckled. “Give someone else the headache, for a change.”

Sarra pretty much ignored him and kept muttering to herself. “Is it because it's too small to see with the naked eye? Virgil! Can you examine it to check?”

Virgil put down his bowl of stew and took the rod, channelling Animus into his Facet to magnify his vision.

“Nothing,” he announced after a long moment and gave it back. He retrieved his bowl and continued eating. They were running out of ration bars but thankfully, the greenhouse area had everything they needed for complete nutrition.

The giant hornets seemed unending though. They couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. They found several nests but they were empty and mostly served as the insectoids’ resting area.

After the third massacre, they stopped trying to kill them off. Virgil observed them planting grains at a field a couple of leagues from the lift. If they came within sight of them, the creatures always attacked. And then the only way to avoid fighting was to run into the lift chamber and seal themselves inside.

“We’ve been here for weeks now,” Balliol grumbled. “How much longer, Davar?”

“Sarra?”

“Oh, stuff it! We’ll stay here as long as we have to!”

“Chaos, what’s wrong with her?” Balliol muttered, voice pitched low.

“I can still hear you, Muryh!”

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I’m still not sure if this fulfils the spirit of the bargain but we are actually due to meet her in a few days.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Craig shrugged. “It won’t take us more than a day to return to the breach if we hurry, so I suggest about three more days to explore before heading back.”

“Agreed.”

“Maybe we should divide into teams?” Amiri suggested. “That way, we’ll cover more ground.”

“We’re already operating on the smallest unit level.” Virgil pointed out. “Dividing further will leave us too vulnerable.”

“Oh, alright.”

After their meal, they left the barracks and headed to their last explored point. The hallway with the giant door weighed on Virgil’s mind but they were exploring in that direction anyway and if their maps were correct, then they would arrive at the vicinity of what was behind that door today.

The question of what happened to the residents of this…fortress...had been percolating in the back of Virgil’s mind for the past week. No signs of violence, no bodies, and no personal effects. It was as if those who lived here just plain decided to get up and leave, taking everything they could on their backs. Part of the reason why nothing was here could be age. Who knew how long this place had been abandoned? And who knew how the Whisperer found this place?

Aside from the odd collection of weapons, there was nothing else. The presence of the greenhouse, no doubt one of many, meant that the fortress was self-sufficient. The other big question was who were they fighting against? The plane outside of the walls were pretty barren unless he counted the creatures living under the earth. But those didn’t look like they needed organised effort to quell.

It could be that their enemy was the same as the Empire’s, the Wyldlings and Chaos Lords. That might explain why Whisperer was reluctant to come here. Come to think of it, why did the outer wall open when he touched it? The proportions of the rooms and weapons were completely human-sized. Well, aside from the giant corridors, but those could be for vehicles or maybe Colossi.

The absence of visible runescript was driving Sarra wild, Virgil noted with some amusement. She was usually so unflappable. As for him, as long as it worked and acted as a force multiplier, then he was happy. The shortspear shot wind blades for the same amount of Animus he spent creating a plasma bolt, but the range was much shorter. Of course, it easily doubled as a melee weapon, so there was that. And it was much lighter than the Plasma Caster.

What he really wanted to do was to bring an arming sword home to Yuriko. Other than marksmanship, his daughter was particularly fond of the sword. He wondered how her Animus would interact with the sword though. When he used it, it created an Animus blade that extended past the tip by a goodly amount. And he could make it shoot out in a pinch.

He’d already replaced his side-blade with the arming sword on his hip. The other weapon, he stowed in his pack. He still used the Plasma Caster, of course; he wouldn't be much of a sniper if he couldn’t shoot far enough.

“Ah, here we are,” he said once they reached where they stopped last time. It was an east-west corridor that went on for quite some distance. They checked all the rooms, just to make sure they didn’t miss anything, but the last dozen doors led only to empty rooms.

It was the fourth room that had something other than dust and the skeletal remains of furniture. It almost gave Virgil a heart attack, too, because when they opened the door, the first thing they all saw was an armoured figure standing on the opposite wall.

Amiri’s immediate response was to fling a fireball at it just as Balliol threw up a protective shield around them. The flames splashed against the figure and the force of the blow toppled it over. It bounced off the floor with a clang and scattered into pieces.

“Burning Moon!” Amiri cursed as the dust and rotting wood burst into flames. She had to summon her fire-lotus to suck up the fire. Once she had it under control, they walked up to the armour.

“Well, this is certainly antique,” Balliol observed.

It was an articulated plate mail made of some kind of greenish metal. The breastplate had a sunburst emblem on it, though not much else. Virgil wasn't an expert on ancient armours so he didn’t know more than a few terms. The helmet’s visor was quite ornate and shaped to have reptilian features, with the mouth area looking like an open maw.

“Nobody in the Empire’s worn armour like that since forceweave was invented,” Sarra picked it up and looked at it closely. “That was nearly two thousand years ago, I think.”

“So this ruin’s at least two thousand years old?” Craig asked.

“Probably. It actually looks good for something that old.”

“That’s assuming this was Imperial property. The Federation still used metal armours,” Virgil noted.

“I’m pretty sure pre-Shattering civilisations used primitive protective gear, too,” Sarra said.

“How primitive could it be when you can’t even figure out how it works?” Amiri chortled.

“Oh, for…some ancient cultures had more advanced Animatech! The Shattering broke everything apart and we’re still finding ruins and artefacts that are far more advanced and sophisticated than what we have!”

“You think this will respond to Animus?”

“Put it on and we’ll find out.”

“We’re about the same size, ya know!”

“Yes, except your hips are wider,” Sarra said drily.

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“You said it, not I.”

“Ladies!” Virgil cut in. “Let’s not devolve to catfighting. Er, the armour looks like it’ll fit either of you, it certainly won’t fit any of us.” Even Craig was a head taller than either woman and to Virgil, Amiri and Sarra came up only to his chest. The armour looked just a bit taller than Amiri but definitely much smaller than Craig.

With a grunt, Amiri touched the armour and channelled her Animus into it. Red lines, exactly the colour of her Animus, formed patterns on the breastplate’s surface and in the next moment, the metal pieces flew off the floor and assembled itself around her, going so far as to twist and tighten so that it fit her like a glove. When the visor closed, the eyepieces glowed an eerie red.

“Well, that’s something.” Amiri’s voice sounded deeper. The reverberations it caused made Virgil’s heart skip a beat. “I…uh, something’s speaking in my head.”

“You sure it’s not the crazy?” Balliol's voice dripped with concern.

“No, it’s not in my voice.”

“Oh, what’s it saying?”

“Open your Anima to me? Er, is this how artefacts bond or is something else trying to worm its way into my consciousness?”

“I think you’d better take that off,” Sarra said.

“Huh, I guess.” Amiri didn’t move. “Uh, how?”

“Stop feeding your Animus into it?”

“Oh, uh, I’m not doing it consciously.” Amiri’s armoured form trembled for a few moments, as if she tried to move but the suit was too heavy for her. The next instant, the glowing lines faded away and the armour fell off Amiri piece by piece. She had to remove the helmet by herself. “Well, that was trippy.”

“At least we’ve got an artefact out of this trip,” Balliol grunted. “Too bad we’d have to give it to that Chaos Lord.”

“After we make sure that this thing won’t give that monster more power,” Sarra declared firmly. “I’m not averse to reneging the bargain if it means keeping a powerful God-king artefact away from the Chaos Lords.”

“But that would mean we’d be stuck here forever!” Balliol protested.

“Are you alright with that idea, Virg?” Amiri asked. “You’re a stickler for your word and honour.”

Virgil weighed his words carefully. “I keep my word as much as I can, but…” He shook his head, “Our oath to the Empire supersedes whatever bargains made with others if it creates a conflict.”

Sarra nodded. “Giving the Chaos lords an artefact that would ultimately be used against the Empire is a violation of our Oath.”

“Oh. You’re right.” Amiri nodded.

“Well, look at it this way, Balliol, as long as we stay here, we’re in no danger of dying,” Virgil added grimly.

“Only if there’s nothing worse in here,” Balliol murmured softly.