This place reeks of ritual… The walls are covered in carvings.

  It’s incredibly dark inside. Bailey uses his device and a flashlight to examine the walls.

  “Do you know who carved these?” I asked.

  "Likely carved by the old Luthraks, I reckon," Bailey replies after a closer look.

  The strange symbols and figures etched into the walls. They're kind of similar to the illegible books from the lab.

  "What do you think these carvings depict?"

  "Haven't the foggiest about that bit," Bailey says with a shake of his head.

  We make our way down the building. The stairs are surprisingly still intact.

  The rooms are remarkably well preserved, but completely empty and coated in dust. Each room is tiny. There must be hundreds of them.

  These living conditions… They were living in jail cells.

  On the ground floor looms a massive door. We carefully push it open, a cloud of dust billowing out to greet us.

  Thankfully, Bailey’s gadget doesn’t trigger any alarms. A colossal statue stands solemnly in the center of the room.

  It's strikingly familiar. It resembles the shell I'm enveloped by in the afterlife dimension. Although, it feels like a much smaller version there.

  "Right then, I'm certain now. This city's ancient Luthrak, through and through," Bailey declares, pointing at the statue.

  “That’s…?” I murmur, examining the massive tree-shaped statue and its intricate details.

  Bailey explains that the Luthraks believed in reincarnation after death, and this is a statue of their deity.

  Legend says this deity purifies the soul after death and returns it to this world. They call it Nyotha, which roughly translates to Purity.

  “Their deity is a tree?” I ask, surprised.

  We circle the statue. An altar stands in each of the four corners of the room.

  Sssss…Sss…Ssssss

  “Listen… something’s here,” I whisper, nudging Bailey.

  Bailey sidles up beside me, his gun already drawn. "Where? I don't see a bloomin' thing." He scans the room, his eyes darting around.

  All the isekai novels I’ve devoured practically scream that a place like this has to have a secret passage or room hidden somewhere. It’s practically a rule.

  “I think it’s underground.” I channel the last bit of Qi I have left and extend my senses underground. It’s empty down there, small creatures… slugs?

  Sssss…Sss…Ssssss

  “It’s empty beneath us.” I pull back my fist, ready to break the floor.

  "Whoa there! Steady on! This place is worth more than all the gold in the world!" Bailey yelps, grabbing my arm and pulling me back.

  "We're not knockin' down some old historical place, are we?"

  We dust ourselves off. “Right, then,” I say. “Let’s look for a switch, or a hidden door. You know, the usual.”

  We start searching. I try to budge one of the altars, but they’re absolutely immovable. I examine them more closely.

  The ground around them looks a bit… off. I wipe away the thick layer of dust. There’s a distinct tile directly beneath each altar.

  Pressing down on one of the altars, I feel it sink slightly. “Bailey! I think I found something!” I call out. We try pressing on all the altars individually. They all depress a little under the pressure.

  “Alright, let’s try all four at once,” I suggest. We improvise, using Bailey’s hefty backpack on one altar, a large, conveniently placed stone on another, and we each press down on the remaining two.

  Click… whoosh… whoosh… whoosh… whoosh

  Arrows shoot out from all four directions…

  “BAILEY!!!” I charge towards him. How did I forget the cardinal rule of adventuring—traps!

  Bailey scrambled to his feet. “I’m fine…”

  “Are you sure?!” I check him over for injuries, my hands fluttering across his limbs.

  “I’m alright, I’m alright!" Bailey said, trying to sound calm but his voice still trembling slightly.

  “Remember, I build traps for a living. These little things are nothing!” Bailey puffed out his chest, a wide grin spreading across his face.

  The arrows, embedded deep in the stone walls, are a testament to their force.

  Yet, miraculously, neither Bailey nor his bag has suffered a piercing wound. These arrows can pierce stone, but they bounced right off of them.

  “What is your bag and cloth made of? Dragon scales?” I ask, genuinely curious. They look like ordinary material.

  “Now this is something special!” He patted his bag proudly.

  “They say this stuff’s tougher than nails, stronger than any iron you’ve ever seen. Woven from some kind of critter’s silk, they say. And I’ll be, they weren’t exaggerating!”

  “I reckon there’s a certain way things are meant to go on each table. Certain items, certain weights, I’d wager,” Bailey mused, beginning his search.

  Dusting off each table, I notice a subtle but distinct indentation on each.

  We circled the hall, scanning for ritualistic items or anything of use. We came up empty. Had everything been removed when the place was abandoned?

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Maybe we should find another way out,” I suggest. “The way out probably isn't even down there.”

  “Might be something interesting! We won’t know until we have a peek. I’m dying to see what’s underneath. A bit of adventure never hurt nobody, right?” Bailey chuckled.

  Turning my thoughts to the Mechanism, I asked Bailey, “Do you know anything special about the Luthraks? Anything symbolic or ritualistic?”

  “Nothing too specific, really. They used Adamantine for their rituals, and they were big on… well, Nyotha,” Bailey replied.

  A spark ignites in my mind. I rummage in my bag, pulling out one of the Adamantine bars and placing it on the altar. It slots perfectly into the indentation. The altar slowly sinks a fraction.

  Did Dr. Keyser know about this place? Maybe he came here before and robbed it clean.

  Marking each altar’s descent and placing stones on it until it reaches the same depth. One by one, they sink.

  Finally, we reach the last one. I tell Bailey to wait to the side, just in case there are any more nasty surprises lurking.

  As the last altar clicked into place, the hall rumbled, and dust rained down from the walls. The massive statue began to descend, revealing a spiral staircase in the newly formed hole.

  These people really had a thing for digging…

  Bailey’s voice cuts through the silence. “Anything amiss down there?” I take Bailey's device near the entrance. The alarm remains silent.

  “Should be alright…” I reply.

  We descend the stairs. The place is so clean, it’s almost eerie. Who cleans a place like this? And why? It’s like stepping into a time capsule, a moment frozen in time.

  I stop Bailey. “Doesn’t this seem a little… suspicious? This place is way too pristine for somewhere abandoned for possibly thousands of years.”

  "Aye, we're all good here. I'm tougher than I look! Let's not waste any time, shall we?" Bailey says enthusiastically.

  "Don't you fret, I'll look after myself. Regular traps ain't no bother to me. Poison gas, though...that's a different kettle of fish. I'll keep this little beauty handy." Bailey says, holding up the device.

  Sssss… Sssssss

  A flash of gold zipped across our feet. I instantly stepped on it.

  We both knelt down. A small, gold, slug-like creature wiggled and screeched under my boot.

  “Any idea what this is?” I asked, gingerly holding the squirming creature out to Bailey.

  “Well, I’ll be! Never seen anything quite like it. This place is crawling with all sorts of oddities…” Bailey crouched down for a closer look, his brow furrowed.

  “Now, there’s something familiar about this one. Reminds me of a Geodyte, the kind you find in the mines. But these are far too small. Even the young’uns are about an arm’s length. And the color… they’re usually a greenish-blue, like copper left out in the rain.”

  “Ewww,” the image of an arm-sized, slimy slug flashes through my mind, making me shudder.

  Holding onto it and wiggling it by the tail, I ask Bailey, “Are they dangerous? There are a lot more of these down here.”

  “Geodytes are dangerous because of how big they get—some of ‘em can grow as big as a small house. They ain’t venomous, though, so this little fella’s nothing to worry about,” Bailey reassured me, continuing his examination.

  “Size of a small house?” A shiver ran down my spine. I really hoped we didn’t run into any of those.

  Suddenly, the small creature glowed, and a ball of blue lightning erupted from its body. I instinctively cupped it in my hands.

  Lightning sparked out between my fingers, followed by a puff of smoke, then… nothing.

  Carefully, I opened my hands. The lifeless creature lay there, its vibrant gold now a dull, dark brown, as if it had been overcooked.

  “And that?” I looked at Bailey, raising an eyebrow.

  “That… that’s magic!” Bailey stared, eyes wide with disbelief. “Creatures don’t… they don’t use magic. Ever.”

  “You mean that was magic? As in, real magic?” I was thoroughly confused. “I thought you said the Anunnaki were the only ones who could wield real magic.”

  “This… this is like Luthrak magic. That was… lightning magic. There are other kinds, but… that… that shouldn’t be…” Bailey shook his head, bewildered.

  This is getting weirder and weirder.

  We continue down, encountering even more of the little critters. They don’t attack us, just scatter. When we finally reach the bottom, a tunneling passage appears before us.

  “I guess that’s the way we’re going then,” I mutter.

  We trudge deeper into the secret passage until we reach the end. A massive door blocks our path. Bailey and I push with all our might, but it won’t budge an inch.

  We examine the door. There’s a slot-like space on its surface. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s the exact same shape as the slot on the altar upstairs. Talk about convenience.

  “Bailey, back up as far as you can without losing sight of me,” I instructed.

  I insert the bar into the slot, and the entire door lights up with a soft blue glow before swinging smoothly inward. I quickly retrieve the bar and tuck it back into my bag. My precious…

  Sssss…ssss…Sssss

  As the door creaked open, a swarm of tiny gold slugs, looking like miniature, slimy ingots, scurried across the floor, disappearing into every nook and cranny in the walls. They were fast.

  Bailey’s device remained quiet. Peering inside, I saw nothing out of the ordinary—so far. I waved Bailey over.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Aye,” Bailey replied, hefting the gun.

  We cautiously stepped through the doorway. Another grand hall stretched before us, easily twice the size of the last one.

  Torches lined the walls, unlit. Bailey snatched one and lit it from a nearby sconce.

  In the flickering light, the hall’s walls came to life with beautiful paintings and carvings. Bailey and I began lighting all the torches, one by painstaking one.

  When we finished, the magnificent artwork stood revealed in all its former glory. The paintings depicted an ancient tale from eons past, a story that seemed to unfold across the walls. We began to carefully examine them.

  The land in the paintings teems with life—fertile fields overflow with crops under a bright sun. The tiefling-like people live in harmony, farming, hunting, fishing, and mining. A peaceful, idyllic existence.

  Until one fateful night, a celestial event unlike any other unfolds. A giant red moon, a celestial anomaly, emerges from the darkness, casting an ominous glow upon the land.

  The people, accustomed to a single familiar blue moon, are filled with awe and trepidation as they witness this extraordinary sight.

  “Wait a sec… this planet didn’t always have two moons?!” I exclaim, turning to Bailey.

  “Not that I know of… never heard tell of such a thing,” Bailey replies, scratching his head. "And these folks don't look much like Luthraks, neither."

  The massive new red moon casts an eerie glow, and then… the floods. Massive waves of water wash over the land, depicted in vivid detail on the walls.

  Everything is swept away—houses, fields, even trees. The daily flooding comes and goes, again and again, the paintings showing the relentless cycle.

  The ancient tribes, desperate, flee to the mountaintops, the paintings showing tiny figures scrambling up steep slopes.

  One group finds a large cavern high on a mountain, extending deep inside. With nowhere else to go, they venture into the darkness.

  The paintings depict their struggles in stark imagery—figures huddled together in the dark, some fading away, symbolizing those who perished.

  There are scenes of what look like… sacrifices. But then, fortune smiles upon them—a massive deposit of Adamantine is revealed in the cavern walls, depicted as shimmering veins of metallic ore.

  Using their knowledge of magic and the Adamantine, they not only survive underground but thrive.

  The paintings shift to show the construction of a magnificent underground city, glowing with magical light.

  This temple, the very one we stand in, is depicted being built in honor of their deity, Nyotha, whom they believed had granted them this chance of survival.

  “So…” I say, glancing from the wall painting to Bailey. “How long ago do you think this was?”

  “Uh…” Bailey rubs his chin, looking thoughtful. “There’s absolutely nothin’ about this in any of our histories. Not a word.”

  He elaborates, explaining that humans have over ten thousand years of recorded history.

  The Luthraks, on the other hand, hadn’t developed writing until relatively recently. All their knowledge and history was passed down through stories.

  “But,” he concludes, spreading his hands, “nothing resembling these paintings and carvings exists in any of them.”

  “Do you have anything to record all this? Like a camera?” I ask.

  "Cam...era? Huh? Never heard of that. This is all I'm carryin'." Bailey replies, holding out his device.

  Well, no one's going to believe what we're seeing here.