Chapter Text
Thunder rumbles in the distance.
It’s not going to rain though. There is no rain in the Medium. The air is still and dry as a bone; nothing like the wild lushness of the island, where the sound of the raging waves carried in even over the wind roaring in the trees. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you’re back there, and that the distant rumbling is the sound of a REAL storm blowing in. You’d need to batten down the hatches, so to speak. Set up the rain catchers to make the most of the downpour, just like Grandma taught you, and then you should double check the supplies just in case and make sure the storeroom is waterproofed and -
DIRK: Hey. Jake. You spacing out on me, dude?
JAKE: Huh??
You’re jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Dirk’s voice. Ah, shit. With a stab of guilt you realize you have, in fact, been completely tuning him out and missed whatever expository monologue he was halfway through. Oops.
You tear your gaze away from the turbulent sky of LOTAK, bright with the unearthly glow of electrified krypton, and direct your attention back towards your boyfriend. Dirk waits by the entrance to your latest tomb with what you think is an expectant look. It’s hard to tell behind the gas mask.
JAKE: Um. You wouldnt mind running all that past me again would you bro?
JAKE: Afraid i was a bit on the preoccupied side just now haha.
DIRK: Uh... Sure.
While his mask betrays no emotion, his posture is another story; arms folded, his fingerless-gloved-fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the crook of his elbow. He’s doing the thing where he tries to look casual, leaning nonchalantly against a stone pillar, but to you it seems like he’s forcing it. Tense. Maybe even a little impatient. Like an over-eager dog wanting to go for the third walk of the day.
(You wonder why that analogy came to mind. It’s not like you’ve ever had a dog.)
DIRK: To recap: If my intel is correct, we should be raking in some insane loot today. But only ‘cause this tomb is probably gonna get pretty nasty, so we gotta be prepared for anything - puzzles, traps, ambushes, maybe even another one of those disorientating-ass mirror mazes.
His speech is stilted in a way that makes it seem kind of rehearsed. He probably did rehearse it.
DIRK: So... You think you can handle that?
JAKE: Yes! Yep. I gotcha. Loud and clear. Roger that. I am good! To! Go!
You realize you took too long to answer and yelp a hasty affirmative. It’s a lie. Whatever. Feeling this response might still be lacking in visible enthusiasm, you give a goofy little salute, earning an amused (bemused?) huff from Dirk. The moment lasts just a tick too long, and the silence is broken by another peal of thunder, this one much closer than the last. As if it was a starting signal, Dirk shifts suddenly, kicking off from the wall.
DIRK: Anyway, I’ve scouted ahead a little. Hope you don’t mind.
(You do.)
DIRK: I think this entrance should get us down quickest. The main stairwell is a straight shot below ground, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t scour the upper floors for loot and stuff first.
JAKE: Oh youre just raring to go huh buddy!
JAKE: Haha well forgive me for not being quite as keen on diving head freaking first into a towering skyscraper full of toxic gas and whatnot.
Dirk shrugs and turns towards the entryway.
DIRK: Like I said, I’ve got some promising leads this time.
DIRK: Also, it’s not toxic gas. Krypton is an asphyxiant.
You roll your eyes. Even though his back is turned, Dirk seems to sense your reaction anyway, continuing:
DIRK: I’m just saying. We gotta know what we’re up against here. The gas gets denser at ground level, and it’s even thicker below it.
JAKE: But were fine on the upper floors right?
DIRK: Yeah. ‘Course. But you should put your mask on anyway.
And with that he's heading down the passageway. You take one last look out over the Land of Tombs and Krypton and its skyline of spires piercing the thick, glowering miasma that churns in the planet's atmosphere above. This is one of the tallest buildings in the area by the looks of it. Ugh. You really don't want to do this many floors today. Hopefully you won't need to climb all the way back up afterwards, but the only fenestrated plane you have is propped up against the other wall here at the top of the tower. You needed it to cheat the gate system to get here in the first place. You wonder how much juice the battery has left, since even Dirk's reserves of uranium are running low by now, but you’re pretty sure he'll have it covered? He's the one who set it up after all.
Anyway, it's time. You jog after Dirk, fumbling with your gear as you go. As swanky as your brand new faux-tuxedo duds are, they are unfortunately a bit disappointing in the pockets department, so you’ve had to captchalogue basically everything you’d normally have on your person. Ammo. Check. Flashlight? Check…
JAKE: Right. Uh... Hmmm...
Confound it all, you can't find your mask. You can’t find it anywhere, and you’ve been looking for the blasted thing for a good minute or two now.
DIRK: What’s the holdup? You good?
JAKE: Yeah hold on just rifling through my things here! Ive got my lamp... Got my ammo... Oh theres an actual rifle ha ha…
DIRK: Is something wrong?
JAKE: No i just... could have sworn i had...
Dirk regards you levelly from the shadows of the tomb.
DIRK: You forgot your mask, didn’t you.
His tone is neutral - it’s a statement, not a question, and even though you knew it was coming the implied judgment bothers you more than expected.
JAKE: Well i...theres an awful lot of things a man needs to remember on an expedition you know!
DIRK: C’mon, man. Your sylladex is stuffed full of shit you don’t need.
I do need it! You think stubbornly. You try not to let any more annoyance show on your face, instead doing your best to twist it into a breezy smile.
JAKE: Well hey you never know when something might just come in handy!
JAKE: What if we need to macgyver our way out of some tricksy situation and the only things at our disposal are the contents of my little collection here?
JAKE: I bet if we needed it you could make some sort of ingenious signalling device out an old tin can or something.
DIRK: Why would we need that? You have like, three billion computers and guns and stuff.
JAKE: Ill have you know that my solid personal policy of extra backup computers has yet to fail me. And i cherish those firearms like children!
Dirk: Okay, well, that’s great, but the one thing you *actually* needed today was your mask.
He sounds exasperated, sour, and it stings. You feel like an absolute fucking idiot, because you are, but it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it now. The last place you can remember seeing your mask was at Roxy’s house, god knows how long ago, and you don’t want to go back there after last time -
You’ve had enough; suddenly you can’t stand waiting any more. Not for another damn second. You'll just show him you can do this.
JAKE: Oh come on itll be fine! How about we just do the top floors for now so lets get going already hmm?
Dirk is still standing by the entrance, looking concerned; you rush on past him into the depths of the tomb.
DIRK: You sure?
JAKE: Yes!!!
DIRK: Okay.
DIRK: Just let me know if you start feeling dizzy.
Probably not a good time to tell him you already feel nauseous.
The storm flares once more as you head into the tower. The oppressive atmosphere and unpredictable lights and noises of Dirk’s planet are doing absolutely nothing to improve your mood. Glancing at him as he follows you into the tomb, you see him cast by the krypton's light in a ghastly greenish color that makes his warm brown skin look sickly. Corpselike, you think, and shudder as you turn away.
Curiously, within the tower itself the sounds of the storm are shrouded. Much more distant. The tomb is silent, as the grave one might say, and so are you and Dirk. The only sound is your footsteps echoing and Dirk's mask whirring Vader-esque as you descend a precarious stairway. The next floor opens up before you, a maze of dark green stone, every surface engraved with the same amphibian hieroglyphs you remember seeing in the frog temple back home. Torches line the walls and the carvings almost seem to shift in the flickering firelight.
DIRK: That’s interesting. I don’t recall seeing torches like this in any of the other dungeons on LOTAK.
DIRK: I think we're onto something here.
JAKE: We are?
JAKE: Is there treasure??
DIRK: Maybe.
JAKE: Nooo dont maybe me dirk i want some friggin answers!
DIRK: No, I just mean I'm not sure what we're after here.
DIRK: The last crocodilian tablet I found, the one that lead me here, said...
DIRK: Hold on, let me pull it up.
He stops to fiddle with his glasses beneath his mask.
JAKE: Er... Cant you just ask little hal?
DIRK: Nah, the AR’s in time out.
JAKE: Oh.
DIRK: It's cool, I got it anyway.
DIRK: Listen to this: ‘A great revelation waits within the halls of the emerald spire. The Lion’s Mouth will open and swallow the sun. Illusion must be overcome, and above made as below.'
DIRK: The rest of it is pretty much just nakking.
JAKE: Gosh. Thats...
DIRK: Ominous?
JAKE: I was going to say a load of hooey.
DIRK: Yeah well the Lion’s Mouth was underlined so that’s how you know it’s important game shit.
DIRK: God. I really hope this isn't a vore dungeon.
JAKE:
DIRK: Don't ask me what vore is.
JAKE: Um...
DIRK: Yeah so anyway there’s some esoteric imagery in there. Traditional alchemy and stuff. Still haven’t cracked it, but I figured we might finally be getting close to the fuckin’ good shit if they’re foreshadowing the boss now.
DIRK: What I'm saying is,
DIRK: This might be the big one.
JAKE: The big one?
JAKE: You dont mean yaldo... yauldible... yaldabobot...
JAKE: Your denizen!
DIRK: Yaldabaoth.
Yaldabaoth, that’s right. You can never remember the name of his damnable Denizen. You're still not sure you can pronounce it though.
JAKE: Yes that guy. Big snake.
DIRK: Biiig snake.
DIRK: THE big one.
DIRK: But yeah no, I'm not currently planning on fighting him.
DIRK: None of the quests or prophecies or whatever have mentioned anything about actually taking him on.
DIRK: So I probably never will.
JAKE: Hmm.
DIRK: Still, if this leads to his lair it's probably gonna be a high difficulty area. So even if we don't go that far down today, whatever this thing is going to throw at us, I need you to bring your A game.
JAKE: I see.
JAKE: Well have no fear you can always count on me and my top notch adventuring expertise!
DIRK: Yeah. I know, dude.
Well that makes you feel guilty.
Your usually inexhaustible enthusiasm is waning, of course it is, but you’re not going to let that show if you can help it. Maybe you should’ve let him know you’re feeling a bit foggier than normal, but there’s no point now. You don’t want to let Dirk down any more than you already have.
The warmth of the torchlight actually makes for a welcome antidote to the tomb’s chilly, dismal air. You run your hand along the wall as you walk, wondering if there are any secret switches or hidden compartments to be found. Those are always exciting, even when they’re booby trapped and you get attacked by flesh eating corpse beetles. You try twisting a torch bracket, like you always see opening secret passages in the movies, but to no avail.
DIRK: You find anything?
JAKE: No...
DIRK: Let’s keep going.
You stifle a disappointed sigh as you trail after him. This expedition could be fun, but still...You’ve seen tombs and ruins before. In fact you have very nearly had your fill of them. No matter how whetted one’s appetite for adventure, no matter how much fun it’s been exploring the Medium with your friends, there’s only so many fisticuffs and hijinks and secret puzzle skulls a man can occupy himself with before the shine wears off and it all becomes a bit of a pointless fucking chore.
You kick at the scattered bones of some unfortunate reptile on the floor. It doesn’t help that everything seems like a total dead end in this desolate place. Everything! It is punishingly difficult to make any progress here. The skeletal underlings that infest your lands don’t even stay dead! Well, they’re technically always dead. But they don’t stay down, not unless you’re willing to spend ages clobbering them, and it’s really not worth it these days. It’s better to evade enemies altogether and avoid squandering resources. There’s no savoring victory, only moving on and hoping for the best.
The futility of this situation is apparent, even to you. You can’t help but feel like this whole thing is…
Well, it’s just like the legends of your lands say. It’s Hopeless. You're hopeless. It’s the literal writing on the wall, and it’s really beginning to wear on you.
And then there’s Dirk. Dirk is beginning to wear on you too.
He is relentless. He’s intense, and pushy, not to mention somehow nearly just as mystifying in person as he was over a chat client. He alone seems to relish the challenges the game presents, or is at least determined to take them on head-first. Like he does everything in life, apparently.
You watch as he scopes out the opposite side of the room. True, you wouldn’t be having half as much fun exploring all these monster-haunted dens alone. Would you even want to go on your own? Maybe not. Knowing someone has your back for a change is genuinely reassuring. And for all his faults you do actually enjoy his company. Or at least... you did. Now he's so on edge all the time, and desperately needy, and being around him is just kind of tiring.
It'd help if you knew what he actually wanted from you. God knows he wouldn't say it, not in a million years, but you get the feeling that he's always looking for something, some kind of reassurance maybe, but you don't know how to give that to him. You don't know if you want to. If you did you wouldn't even know where to start.
The telltale rattle of bones emanates from the junction up ahead and interrupts your musings. You arm yourself in preperation for battle, but as Dirk rejoins your side he shakes his head and puts a finger to his mask's breathing apparatus. Presumably his lips are under there somewhere.
DIRK: (Too loud. Don't want to alert more of them.)
JAKE: (Aww.)
You reluctantly return your pistols to your strife deck and let Dirk take the lead. His own weapon in hand, Dirk stealthily and silently paces forwards before diving out of sight around the corner. There's a sound like a xylophone being murdered, and then an underling's disembodied skull rolls into view, coming to a stop upside-down in the middle of the hallway. Its empty sockets glare at you accusingly as it wiggles its jaw in an effort to right itself.
Dirk reappears and motions for you to join him. Together you run past into the next room while the skeleton is still incapacitated.
JAKE: Wait was it just the one? I couldve dealt with one imp by myself! Theyre only little!!
DIRK: I know. What I didn't know was how much trouble we'd be in if there were a dozen or more round that corner.
DIRK: Since there was just one, it was easier to take it out then and there.
DIRK: Next time you can join in. Fisticuff some dead guys real good.
JAKE: Hm. Alright.
That's another thing - you are increasingly aware just how thoroughly you’re outclassed by him. Maybe literally outclassed, according to your scant few lore tablets and vague memories of alien-and/or ghost-sourced exposition. Either way Dirk is way higher on the echeladder than you are, and even though fighting monsters and plundering tombs has been your frigging calling in life, you can’t really keep up in fights with him. You have no chance against somebody who can knock a Giclops to pieces in mere seconds before you can even line up a shot. You can’t keep up with what he’s saying half of the time either, especially when he gets onto something overly cerebral or god forbid philosophical in nature. Lordy is his spiel incomprehensible sometimes. And it makes you feel very, very stupid.
The next room thankfully has no enemies. Instead it presents you with a choice of two passageways, with a locked chest connected to some sort of apparatus between them. Above the leftmost passage is emblazoned the symbol of the Heart aspect; above the other, you realise with a sinking feeling, is the swirling wings of Hope.
JAKE: Oh. Its one of these.
DIRK: Three cheers for teamwork. Guess I'm taking the left.
And with that Dirk’s marching off again. Well, that’s that, better do as the man says. Or as the symbol on the wall says, you guess. You head right. As you reach the end of the hall, a stone slab slams down and seals the exit behind you, which would be alarming if you haven't encountered a bunch of these already. You have to solve the puzzle in front of you to get out, but you have to collaborate with Dirk to do it, since these puzzles are seemingly designed for co-operation between two players in separate rooms. You’re not sure how to feel about it, frankly. You’re troubled by the idea that the game somehow knew you would be exploring with him, and no matter what happened, you were supposed to be together, like everything leading up to this point was inevitable-
Well. It doesn’t bear thinking about, really.
Instead you survey the task before you. It's a big, rough-hewn sliding block puzzle shaped like... a very misshapen crocodile? You think. Hopefully you can unscramble the poor beastie before you run out of air or something.
Still somewhat worried, you call out into the darkness to make sure your adventuring partner is still there.
JAKE: Dirk can you hear me? Do you know what your puzzle is supposed to be?
Dirk’s voice echoes slightly, even though it’s muffled on the other side of the wall.
DIRK: Yeah, I think this is the crocodilian ruler I've read about. He has a crown and stuff.
JAKE: Ok well mine doesnt look like anything and i dont know what im supposed to be doing here.
DIRK: You'll figure it out. Just give it a minute.
JAKE: Ughh.
JAKE: Were still going to watch that movie later when were done right?
DIRK: What did we end up deciding on?
JAKE: Erm. Inception i think.
DIRK: Oh, yeah. Cool. That’s a good one.
JAKE: Yeah!!
JAKE: It wasnt my first choice mind you but still im glad you agree with me for once about matters of fine cinema.
DIRK: We’ve been over this before. Nolan’s a master of the craft, dude.
JAKE: Youre a total friggin hipster.
DIRK: Whatever. I’ve got discerning tastes, unlike somebody I know.
There’s a whirring clunk on the other side of the wall, the sound of some ancient mechanism sliding into place.
DIRK: Alright, puzzle’s done on my side.
You frown, and not just because of the jab at your taste in movies. This puzzle is giving you more trouble than you thought. Even though this is the exact same principle your sylladex operates on, you can't tell what pieces are supposed to go where. It looks like the piece for the crocodile's head is missing? You've ran out of patience at this point so now you’re just kind of shoving things around haphazardly and hoping that they’ll click into place on their own.
DIRK: If you're stuck you can move one of the pieces into the gap in the middle.
JAKE: I know i know!
JAKE: Maybe... here?
You hear a high pitched yelp and a few strangled Texan profanities from the other side of the wall. Ah. Well that wasn’t it.
Eventually you apparently get the pieces into the right place, at which point the door unlocks and Dirk emerges from the opposite tunnel. Perhaps you’re imagining it, but he seems… somewhat singed.
JAKE: Sorry.
He just gives you a thumbs up.
DIRK: Got the loot. It’s chips.
JAKE: ...Computer?
DIRK: Tortilla.
He tosses you the bag. You drop it, which is acutely embarassing, but upon closer inspection it is indeed a bag of plain old tortilla chips.
DIRK: For the movie later.
DIRK: Hell, maybe that's why we got 'em.
JAKE: Christ on a flaming motorcycle dont tell me movie night was predestined too!
DIRK: Maybe. Who knows with this game, man.
You captchalogue the chips with a sigh.
DIRK: To be honest, I was kind of hoping for a little more than chips.
JAKE: Oh yeah me too.
DIRK: Yeah?
JAKE: After all that? I mean i rather think we ought to have gotten some dip as well!
You expect your halfhearted joke to fall flat, but after a second Dirk snorts in amusement. He gives your arm a squeeze as he scoots past you in the narrow space, and you have to suppress a double embarrassment attack from both the affectionate gesture and from the fact that you are taking up quite a bit more space in the passageway than he is.
JAKE: But really that was one crummy puzzle. My crocodile guy didnt even have a head!
DIRK: Huh. I guess King K Rool got the chop.
JAKE: And we got the chips.
DIRK: Ha. Good one.
That wasn't even supposed to be a joke. You just kind of said it.
The next few floors are largely unremarkable. A few skeletons here, a few chests of meager loot. Mirror puzzles. Block puzzles. Cryptic runes. The only truly new things are the flame traps, grates that shoot fire at certain intervals. You have to time your journey across a series of platforms without getting burnt - or more burnt, in Dirk's case, because you set one of these off on him earlier.
Finally, hours into your expedition, you arrive at something truly imposing - a great door flanked by rows of giant torches, each half of the door bearing one half of the broken Heart sigil. They swing open on their own as you approach. Dirk whistles, impressed, but the gas mask distorts the noise and he sounds like a modem crapping itself.
JAKE: Well that certainly looks important. Are we going in?
DIRK: Hell yeah we're going in.
You enter the chamber with your weapons drawn. There are only a few torches burning, the rest extinguished, leaving the high vaulted ceiling shrouded in shadow. Rotten tapestries decorate the walls and the remains of a once-lavish carpet coats the floor, but the unquestionable center of attention is an imposing golden throne that stands in the middle of the chamber, crowned with a statue of a coiling serpent with a star for a face. The metal of the throne looks worn and dull, at least comparing it to the golden sheen of your swanky new golden pistols (modeled after the ones wielded by Nicholas Cage in the 1997 masterpiece Face/Off of course), but its surface is still ever so slightly reflective in the torchlight. It looks nothing like the dark green stone that makes up the rest of the dungeon.
JAKE: Is this gold stuff from prospit?
DIRK: No, it looks more like. Reddish. Like whatever metal the statue of Yaldabaoth is made from.
Upon the throne you spy the slender, snaggle-toothed skull of a crocodilian consort, accompanied by the rest of its skeleton. It’s hard to tell from the collapsed pile of bones, but it seems to have died hunched protectively over something.
JAKE: Aha! A lore tablet.
DIRK: And an important one, if the impressive setup is anything to go by.
And it is a setup. It has all the hallmarks of being a trap, right down to the single ray of light (angled just so by a conveniently positioned mirror) illuminating the emerald-colored tablet in the consort’s clutches, as if to say, ‘hey guys, this right here is the important thing in this room and nothing bad will happen to you if you grab it’. Trying to take the thingy right out of the poor deceased reptiliphibian’s paw will almost definitely trigger some sort of dastardly booby trap. There’s just no way it wouldn’t.
DIRK: That is hella a trap.
JAKE: Heheh yeah. Sure looks that way.
DIRK: I think we need to find out what that tablet says though.
JAKE: Gotta swipe it!!
DIRK: What do you think we’re dealing with here?
JAKE: Hmm. Monster ambush maybe?
DIRK: I don’t see any alcoves for them to pop out of. Though that old decayed tapestry is probably concealing a swinging pendulum blade or some shit.
JAKE: Ooh yes. The carpet is probably covering up the pressure plates. Oh hey that looks like a trap door too.
DIRK: Yep. All in all: my assessment is that this room is a fuckin' nest of death traps. You’d have to be an idiot to go waltzing in and try and take the tablet without careful planning first.
You look at each other. Dirk cocks his head. It's a challenge, finally, and you relish it. You can’t help but grin in response, which Dirk takes as some sort of cue, because the next second you’re both racing towards the throne full tilt. You hear a short burst of laughter behind you, muffled and distorted by the air filters, but there. It makes you smile.
As predicted, all manner of hell breaks loose. As soon as you step foot in the room, spikes shoot up from the floor in front of you, and you and Dirk dash left and right respectively as great gouts of flame erupt from grates concealed in the ground, immolating the space where you two were standing but moments ago.
You're both fast closing in on the throne. But Dirk is faster and closer. Then, suddenly, a large pendulum blade tears the tapestry asunder as it embarks on its path of destruction, forcing Dirk to leap out of the way. Seeing your chance, you swerve around and vault over the side of the throne, snatching the tablet from the crocodile's grasp in a manner most Indy-like. The long-dead consort topples over in a baleful clatter of bones. Acting on pure instinct, you dive to the floor, prize clutched to your chest, the telltale whooshing of the pendulum flying over your head. As you roll across the ground you find yourself laughing despite the fact you're definitely going to have a whole lot of bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, really.
You spring to your feet and hold the tablet aloft in triumph.
JAKE: Booyeah!!!!
Dirk leans on the throne, clutching his side like he's winded.
DIRK: Holy shit.
DIRK: That was... *pant pant*
JAKE: Awesome???
DIRK: No man it was really fucking stupid!
DIRK: Like - okay yeah it was pretty badass, but what the hell?!
JAKE: Oh hush!! You wanted answers didnt you?? Well here you go! I have them!
DIRK: Fuck. Okay, fine.
JAKE: Now lets see what this smaragdine thingamajig has to say for itself…
You brush the dusty surface of the tablet off as you walk, squinting in the firelight at words some poor extinct crocodilian had chiseled there centuries ago. Perhaps this tablet was written by the very same critter that had sat enshrined upon the throne, guarding its secrets like a dragon guards its hoard, lying undisturbed for aeons until one dashing adventurer by the name of English had expertly swiped the thing from right under its silly elongated snoot -
DIRK: Dude, wait.
JAKE: No come on! I found the tablet so surely i should get to read what it says!
DIRK: Stop!
JAKE: One second! Jeez louisiana dirk!
DIRK: Jake, watch out!!!
You have just enough time to register Dirk’s alarm before you feel the stone depress beneath your boot, and next comes the sound - another rumbling noise, but this time it's not thunder. It's something you can FEEL in your BONES because it’s right below your feet and next thing you know the ground is just GONE from underneath you - and next comes the shock of sudden, sickening fear, the lurch in your stomach as gravity reasserts itself - and then you're falling
and Dirk's outstretched hand is the last thing you see before you're plunged into the darkness below.