“Have you ever wondered about the absurdity that is the creatures of the void? Many of my years as a researcher have been dedicated to the topic and even I have been left stumped. The void as we know it, is the very concept of nothingness itself, to be the lack of something. Yet there are beings born of it, created from it, things that seem to desire nothing more than to devour everything and anything that is not of the void. Makes absolutely no sense, truly fascinating don't you agree?”
~Lead Researcher Iptep, Year 87 P.S. (Pre-Sundering)
Alistair Grant stifled a yawn as he shuffled his way out of his small home's single bathroom after taking the various medications he needed just to function properly. Another long day at work had left him exhausted both mentally as well as physically. While he enjoyed his job most days, and felt there wasn’t much else he could do that was beneficial to society, being an emergency service dispatcher possessed its bad days. Today had been one of those particularly rough days that made him want to sit alone on his couch with a bottle of rum as he contemplated his life decisions. The events of his last call had been…harsh, in every sense of the word. A little kid had called sobbing to the point Alistair could barely understand him, but had eventually got him to explain what had happened.
A woman had left the bar absolutely plastered and decided driving herself home was the best option for everybody, despite the fact she needed to use the freeway. She had made it less than a few miles when she passed out, crossed the median and ran into the kids family car going over a hundred. The kid had been on his way home with his parents from a nice family dinner, and the reason the kid had called was because his dads phone had been knocked into the back seat from the impact.
Alistair had done his job and got as much information as he could out of the terrified eight year old and found out his name was Henry. He kept saying how his parents were not waking up and that his head and his chest hurt. He had done what his parents had always told him to do if there was an emergency and called 911. Alistair stayed on the line talking to Henry the entire time while trying to stay calm himself as he urged the responding EMT’s to hurry.
Alistair shuddered as the memories came back to him and he had to grip his wall railing tightly and focus on his breathing, willing them to fade. After a moment his mind had calmed and he made his way into his room, groaning as he climbed into bed. He figured he could check in with those EMT’s tomorrow to see how the kid was doing. Closing his eyes, it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.
He had learned long ago that the military had conditioned him to be a light sleeper to the point he needed to soundproof his room to keep outside noises from waking him up all night long. Because of this, Alistair was absolutely dumbstruck when he opened his eyes, yawning and stretching, only to see he was in a dark stone room barely lit by a cluster of odd pale blue and unfamiliar mushrooms. Mushrooms that looked to be currently growing out of the pile of rubble that he can only guess was once a wall.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Alistair blinked a few times as he began to spin in an increasingly panic-induced circle hoping to see anything that might explain where he was or how he had even gotten here without waking up. No matter how many times he blinked, pinched himself or spun around, the scenery around him did not change or provide any answers. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, or at least tried to but was met only with smooth skin. That discovery at least had the benefit of bringing his mind to a screeching halt due to the sheer confusion of it. He quickly checked all over himself not wanting to believe what was laid bare before him, himself.
After his quick examination, he deduced that not only was his messy dark brown hair completely gone, so was his beard he worked on for years as well as any other trace of hair on his body. Not to mention the clothes he fell asleep in were also nowhere to be found. With this new information, Alistair was able to take a few deep breaths and focus his mind, turning his attention towards figuring out what was going on. Once he felt he had calmed down enough and was no longer on the verge of going into a full-blown panic attack, he sat down on the surprisingly warm stone and began to think.
Alistair took his time getting a closer look at his situation as well as the room he was in, letting his experience of all those mystery books as well as crime reports he reads lead his thoughts forward. He eyed every part of the room he could see in the soft pale light of the mushrooms, picking apart every detail to see if there was something useful. The room was maybe twenty by thirty feet with the wall behind him being the one that had collapsed mostly. The only objects within the room were himself, the rubble with the mushrooms, and what looked to be a metal door in front of him with no handle.
After a moment of examination, he had a ton of questions but narrowed it down to three important ones that took priority, where was he, how did he get here, and what happened to his clothes and hair. Alistair’s first guess that could answer all three questions was unfortunately that his friends were behind it all. While a little on the extreme side, even for them, Alistair could see them all being eventually convinced to go along with this crazy plan. What helped disprove this theory, was how easy it was for him to be woken up and how oddly warm the stone beneath him was. In fact, when he actually focused on it, the floor was on the verge of being too hot to touch.
What Alistair thought was just the stone being naturally warm at first due to a variety of reasons, the obvious and intense scorch marks told him something else. In a perfect circle around him with a rough radius of five feet, the stone looked as if it had experienced something hot enough to melt the stone to the point Alistair was sitting in a very shallow bowl. Getting up, he stepped outside of this odd circle and instantly felt the stone outside was cold and rough. This told him that whatever intense heat that was the source of this melting stone was rather recent, which would answer the question of where his clothes and hair went. However, it brought up another question, how was he still alive let alone not even showing any signs of being burned?
Running his hand across his now smooth head Alistair had to admit that even a top-quality straight razor would not be able to achieve the level of smooth skin he now felt, at least without nicking him. The only other thing that came to mind for his hair loss would be one of those high-end hair removal creams, which would fall in line with his elaborate prank theory, except for the keeping him asleep part. Yet, Alistair still harbored doubts that even his friends that would be the most dedicated to the prank would be able to pull it off Even if they were willing to go the extra mile, especially getting to his more unsavory areas, none of that still explains the partially melted stone he woke up in the middle of.
He needed more information, and he would not get it standing there so he walked around the dimly lit room examining it as best as he could. The room was a rather decent size and by his best guess was roughly thirty by maybe forty feet and perhaps fifteen feet tall. The section that had collapsed led him to the theory he was underground or there were higher floors since he could see a hole in the ceiling that led to another dimly lit room. The only other thing that was in this room was a metal door of unknown design that did not possess a door handle or even the sign of hinges. Instinctively he used the wall the brace against in anticipation of the aches and soreness to claim their hold on him. He was astonished at feeling none of it, not even the slightest bit of tightness in his hips or knees.
Alistair began to breathe a little faster, unsure if he was even allowed to hold out any hope. The pain he normally felt was something he was stuck with for half a decade at this point and as best as any specialist could tell him, would last for the rest of his life. The level of injuries he sustained in that fall should have killed him instantly, yet he had desperately clung to life and was able to even walk again after numerous surgeries. To be taking even a single step now without feeling any pain or discomfort from it was enough to make him question everything about his situation.
He began to start experimenting by walking around in an increasingly larger circle, taking steps faster until he was full on jogging around the room. Tears leaked out of his eyes as laughter escaped him while he ran around the room, changing it up to push ups, sit ups and other bodyweight exercises he could think of. Not only did none of it cause him any pain, he felt better and stronger than what he thought he was originally before his accident. After a while of testing and making sure he wasn't just dreaming all this, he sat down to catch his breath and get back to trying to figure out what was going on.
The idea of this situation being a prank was laughable at this point as while he has seen his friends pull off some insane shit in the past, if they could do something like this he would be having some words with them. The only other ideas he had were he was kidnapped by some shadow government and being used for some kind of experiment, or the fantasy loving part of his brain threw out the idea of that weird trope of being summoned to another world. Alistair laughed out loud at that thinking there was no way something like that would actually happen, or at least he didn’t think something like that could happen.
However, the more he thought about it and started putting the pieces together, he was now worried about the possibility it could be true. After all, he has read a shit ton of books and one of the most common things those kinds of stories held was finding the main character in some weird unknown place, all while being magically cured of any diseases or handicaps. Not to mention being completely naked for some reason or another and not a single strand of hair on their body.
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“Holy shit” He breathed out loud his eyes going wide, “Did I just get fucking fantasy kidnapped?”
He shook his head trying to dismiss that line of thought, even if it was true sitting here and trying to figure it out wasn't going to help him get out of wherever he was. He stood back up with determination in his eyes and moved around the room again, this time trying to figure a way out. His first thought was the only door in the entire room yet no matter how he pushed or where Alistair could not get the door to open. He turned his attention back to the hole in the ceiling above the collapsed portion. He had a realization that this room would make a rather sturdy cell, a realization he was not at all comfortable with. If his hunch was right, the hole would be his only way out of this room even if he was not comfortable with the idea of climbing up through an unknown hole that led to an unknown room all the while being unsure if he would even fit.
“Fuck” he muttered out loud as he stared up at what was more than likely his only way out.
Still with no answers to any of his questions he resigned himself to seeking answers once he was no longer trapped inside of a dark mysteries room. So, he carefully made his way up the large pile of broken stone making sure not to cut his feet or step on any of the odd mushrooms in case they had any weird effects that came from contact. The first problem he encountered upon reaching the top of the pile and crouching beneath the hole was he was unsure if he could fit. Now that he was next to it the hole looked smaller than originally estimated.
“I swear that whoever put me in the place is going to have a rough surprise when I find them” he said through gritted teeth realizing that if he wanted to get through that hole, he was going to have to get scrapped up a bit.
Alistair took a moment to stretch as best as he could and focus on slowing his breathing down to help relax his body a bit more. He understood if he panicked while climbing through his chances of injury or getting stuck only increased, which was something he would very much like to avoid. When he felt he was relaxed and calm enough to go through, he slowly stood up sticking his arms through first while pulling his shoulders as close together as they could get. He gritted his teeth and hissed as the rough stone dug into his arms but with a few adjustments they got through with only a few scraps.
Standing straight at his full height of five feet and ten inches he could just get his elbows onto the floor of the room he was climbing inside of. Taking a moment to breathe, Alistair felt the stone edges press into his ribs as he breathed in, only confirming his suspicions that this was not going to be pleasant. Pushing out as much of the air in his lungs as he could, he pulled himself up through the hole as steadily as he could. Inch by inch he pulled himself up through the hole trying to be as careful as he could, wincing every time a sharpened stone dug into his side. Right when he felt his arms fully straighten and he believed he was in the clear, the stone under his right hand shifted. Panicking, he jerked away not wanting to fall back down only to completely lose his balance and do exactly that.
Sharpened stones stabbed painfully into his upper ribs as he fell down at an odd angle, ironically but painfully, that being the only reason he didn't fall completely back down. He groaned as something warm and wet gently leaked down his side as he struggled to angle his arm enough to pick himself back up. However the more he shifted the deeper he could feel the stone digging in between his ribs. Thoughts of becoming stuck filled his mind and true panic coursed through him and without thinking, he slammed his arm down and jerked himself up. A scream tore out his throat as searing agony engulfed the entire right side of his chest and he could swear he both heard and felt a snap. Despite the pain, he soon found himself lying on the cold stone floor of the room he had been trying to climb into. Celebrating this victory felt meaningless considering what he had to do to reach this point, for he could already feel hot blood oozing from between his fingers as he held his wounded side.
Every breath sent a jolt of fresh pain coursing through his torso as he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to regain a sense of focus. While he found that his time in the military to be a somewhat waste of energy and time, he didn’t leave empty handed. Dealing with pain was something he unfortunately had grown accustomed to handling. He never fully forgave the higher command for all the shitty situations he had been placed in. Nor did he forgive them for the twenty-eight straight months of fucking deployment. At least he had made plenty of close friends as he and his company made their way across the entirety of the middle east. The only thing he could not entirely blame on the higher command was the day of his accident, during what should have been a routine chute and landing exercise.
When his main chute failed to open and became nothing more than a streamer of fabric trailing behind him as he plummeted, one of his first thoughts was simply, huh. Yet that thought didn’t last long when he pulled the breakaway to release the main chute and pulled his reserve. Even now he still has nightmares of those final moments of feeling the air rush past his body as he stares up in horror at the barely open reserve chute. He wished he could say that he didn’t feel anything, that it was like the movies where everything goes black, and they wake up in the hospital days later pumped full of pain medicine.
Alistair had wished and prayed in those final seconds, yet he had felt everything. The impact of his feet and legs hitting the ground first and breaking in what he was told thirteen different places. The feeling of his hip joints nearly shattering his pelvis despite his best attempts to follow the training and roll with the momentum. He could still remember his left arm and shoulder along with his collar bone breaking the fall for his head, resulting in two breaks in his arm, his shoulder socket, collar bone and his jaw. He had wanted to scream in pain, but it turns out it is hard to scream when you have had the absolute wind knocked right out of you.
It had felt like days before he had reached the hospital, even with the EMS helicopter crew giving him what he was told should have been a lethal amount of morphine. His time in the hospital was when his memory became a little hazy, no doubt due to the insane amount of pain killers and other drugs he was on. He had lost count how many surgeries it took to put him back together, how many plates and screws were needed to hold him in one piece or how many hours he spent in physical therapy to relearn to walk. He knew it was enough that airports had become a pain in the ass, for even the crappiest metal detectors would scream if he even so much as looked at them.
Alistair didn’t know why all those memories were now surfacing but it hit him after a moment and left him chuckling through his gritted teeth. Even with everything that had broken during that fall, none of his ribs had so much as a hairline fracture. Which meant he could survive a near free fall impact with the ground from terminal velocity, yet it took him climbing into a hole that finally granted him his first broken rib.
He lay there for a while longer just holding his side and trying to not push too hard in fear of puncturing a lung. Being that this was his first broken rib he didn’t want to risk attempting to push it back up into place by himself. Instead, he resigned himself to laying here for however long it took for the pain to subside enough he felt comfortable moving around.
That turned out to be what he would guess to be roughly an hour, at which point he could gently raise himself up onto his feet and take a better look at the room he had climbed up into. The only thing he had been able to make out while he was laying down was the intensity of that strange mushroom light that looked a little brighter. Now that he was standing, he could see that was due to there being more than one pile of fallen stone containing these mushrooms. There were three piles this time of different sizes but only two of them housed those odd blue glowing mushrooms at the top of them.
Alistair noted that this room was also much bigger than the one he had climbed up from, being maybe three to four times as big. The other key difference was this one wasn’t entirely empty as he could see what he thought were glass tables scattered throughout with unknown objects strewn about on top of them. Seeing all this only helped confirm his theory that the room he climbed up from was some kind of containment cell or a large storage room. When he walked over to examine one of the tables, he was surprised to feel how incredibly smooth it was as well as sturdy. He had seen glass thicker than these tables shatter easily, yet these felt unbreakable. The question of where he was only growing more and more.
The objects on the tables provided him with nothing useful in terms of valuable information as he couldn’t recognize any of them or what they did. Most of them looked to be strange metallic or perhaps crystal rods with various notches or protrusions. Not finding anything that could be of use on the tables he wandered around a bit more in hopes there was something he could use that would help him. Other than the piles of rubble and the mushrooms growing out of two of them, the only other things in this room were two metal doors like what was in the room below him.
Only one of them was of any use considering the other one was mostly buried under one of the piles of rubble. Alistair grimaced as he could feel his wound throb as more blood was now staining the side of his body. He needed to find a way out of here soon, or at the very least a way to clean the wound and bandage it so it would stop bleeding. That left him standing in front of the door not covered by stone rubble inspecting it as best as he could with what light was provided.
His frustration only grew as minutes passed while he looked for any signs of a handle or even a gap in the door he could take advantage of. It was only when he turned his attention to the area around the door that his labor bore fruit. On the right side of the door there was a slightly raised portion of the wall in a hexagonal shape and just a little bigger than the average hand. With confidence he slapped his hand onto it waiting for something to happen, hopefully that being the door opening. After a moment the shape let off a faint orange glow, and nothing happened. Alistair stared for a moment before trying again, and again getting the same response every time.
“DAMN IT!” he yelled in frustration mixed with pain as he began to hammer on the door with dull echoing thuds.
“This isn’t funny anymore!” he yelled, changing to kicking it when his hand hurt too much. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” He screamed hard enough he hurt his throat.
He resorted to ramming into the door hoping that maybe he could force it open but in his haste, he failed to notice the faint blue glow pulse from the hexagon shape. The door slid open to the side right before he would have made contact, forcing him to tumble past it and into the room and land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Alistair groaned as he lay there on the ground in pain, his fall agitating his wound and broken rib. He continued to lay there for a moment waiting for the throbbing pain all while cursing his stupidity, yet all that quickly went to the back of his mind when a faint, weak sounding voice found its way into his ears.
“Who are you?” The voice asked, its words distorted and weak as if speaking was both unfamiliar and struggling. “How are you in there?”
