"Machine, Obey My Command!" V2 - Prologue
It was a dark void. No, a dark stone corridor, pitch black with only a little light leaking in from the entrance at the end. The walls were covered with what looked like water moss, giving it a damp color.
Inside the room, she could hear multiple voices...
"H-hey ...What the hell is this?"
"... It looks like a doll, but ..."
"Dozens—No, hundreds, isn't it creepy?"
"Stephanie, can you read this? It looks like an ancient script..."
"... No matter what, they shall follow strictly their master's command—"
Behind the woman, another man was talking.
"This is ridiculous. We've never found such a huge archeological site..."
"Because this was a blind spot in the city. Until now..."
"No matter what the future holds, no matter how much time separates us..."
"But, if we complete our research report about these findings..."
"Oh, if they approved our research, we might be able to go to Central, or at least, we could get out of this city. Fuck this city, it's such shit!"
"No matter how much time has passed, I will not forget our master's command."
"I'm going to Totokanta ... Where the rights of sorcerers are properly recognized. I could even become an instructor at the Tower of Fang..."
"What? You, a teacher?"
"Will you be quiet! Hmm... 'They only accept their master's command'—And after that, it looks like it repeats over and over, like a mantra.
"I don't care, it's a scare tactic."
"I'm... going to Totokanta..."
"Hey, stop wasting time talking. Come on, let's get this thing out of here."
............
"I shall only accept my master's command — This is known"
The voice that echoed through the mausoleum was cold. But it wasn't a coldness of emotion — rather, it was the chilling coldness of fate. It was despair, and a bitter envy for a future that was no longer possible.
The mausoleum was dark and damp. Perhaps that's why the room was filled with strange odors—The humidity wasn't flattering to the preservation of corpses.
And that was voice alone, unaffected by the smell.
"I could not give you life—It's not possible with our sorcery. Perhaps it could have been done with true magic."
The voice cracked with regret.
"Maybe it would've been possible then, but our Founder wasn't able to do it. That lack of power has left a stain on our history—a stain that drags us down to the present—where the power that we need, we cannot get."
In the darkness—A green outline appeared. They could see the hem of a soft, dark green robe, almost the color of grass.
"And you, as well. No, your situation is worse, because you can't even acquire the life that you need—And all that I can give you is letters—The"Wyrd Graph" that forms the crystal of my power."
The voice gave an irritable sigh.
"And my power is at an end. I, too, will soon die. Our race is now of the past — beyond help. We no longer possess the vitality to live in the future. Heheh—"
The laughter was full of self-deprecation.
"It's so ridiculous, but strangely I don't mind the smell of the rotting corpses of my people, not even a little. Perhaps because my body is already decaying, emitting the same smell. No, perhaps—"
And a faint shrug spread like ripples throughout the darkness.
"This smell might even be pleasant. At the very least, it's a testament to our existance — but — sooner or later, the rats will have devoured this carrion — and it will all be over. Not even the smell will remain. Then, we will disappear from the world..."
The voice silenced, as if it had fallen asleep. The silence only deepened the darkness — the outline of the robe that she'd seen faded into the shadows again.
But — Suddenly, the voice called out.
"Don't be foolish! I won't disappear!"
The voice breathed out and turned to a scream. It screamed and screamed. Then—
"I will not disappear! Death may be inevitable, but I will not disappear!"
— The screams turned to the trembling of devastation—
"I will not disappear! I will leave proof of my existence!"
Suddenly, the voice lost its power, as if it had run out of steam, and used up all of its strength. Clack, they heard something fall. Or maybe the voice itself had collapsed—
Then, at least, the voice slowly muttered.
"So ... accept your master's orders ... accept your masters com..."
"Yes, my lord. Your command..."
The answer came from a completely different direction than the previous voice, but was homogeneous.
In a sense that it no longer had life in it.
Table of Contents
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Guardian of the Treasure The Beautiful Allenhatem! A Challenge From Volcan Basilicok Then - He Accepted His Master's Orders |