Thick evening clouds threatened to paint the world in a single shade of grey.
On the outskirts of the harbor town, the cave mouth gaped open in the hillside like a wound.

The air vomiting from its throat was wrong.
It tasted of cold, wet mold and soil that had been trapped in the dark for centuries.

Pain rubbed the tip of his nose, trying to scrub away the smell.
Ahead, Jack’s back dissolved into the gloom.
Every time the flame in Jack’s lamp flickered, the shadows of the three of them stretched long against the rock face, writhing like living things being sucked deeper into the earth.

"According to the client, the ruins of an old altar should be around here. Traces of the Early Lemurian Dynasty."

Jack’s voice rang low.
The sound bouncing off the rock walls was hard, cold.

Pain stepped over a collapsed stone pillar and peered at a fragment rolling beside it.
The weathered surface held a curve that looked vaguely familiar.

"Hey... doesn't this look like Hannes's wife? You know, the line of the cheek."

He whispered it, and Jack looked back, exasperated.
The lamp light carved deep shadows into his scowl.

"...That is the debris of an Earth Mother statue. Stop fooling around... And don't let Hannes hear you."

"Right, right."

Pain shrugged.
He glanced back.

Salt was restless, her head darting around.
Her gaze refused to settle.
She seemed captivated by mere scratches on the walls, cracks in the ceiling—meaningless wounds in the stone.

Her footing was unsteady.
She looked like she was searching for something that shouldn't be there.
Or maybe she was terrified of it.

"Oi, Salt. Don't wander. Watch your step."

Jack’s warning was sharp.
Salt’s shoulders jumped, but her eyes were immediately sucked back to the wall.

What is it?

Pain followed her gaze.
Just a dirty wall.
Just damp rock.

But Salt drifted toward it as if pulled by an invisible thread.
A dangerous, teetering movement.

She reached out to a stain-like pattern on the stone.

Crack.

The ground screamed before the sound even registered.
The bedrock beneath Salt’s feet groaned and gave way.

"Ah—"

Her body floated in the air, then vanished from sight.

"Salt!!"

Pain didn't think.
He kicked the ground.
No hesitation.

He dove into the rising dust plume after her.
Weightlessness.
The world rotated.

Impact.
A dull agony slammed into his back.
The air was forcibly ejected from his lungs.

"Ghh...!"

He had landed on cold rubble.
Dust coated his throat, burning like fire.

Pain coughed violently, forcing his body up, checking his side immediately.
In the gloom, Salt was curled up, coughing small, dry sounds.

"Salt! You okay!?"

He rushed over and touched her shoulder.
She was trembling, but nothing seemed broken.
Luckily, the fall hadn't been deep.

In the silence, the sound of water dripping echoed with a metallic clink.
Ores buried in the walls caught the dying embers of the smashed lamp, reflecting a dull, sickly orange.

Jack’s voice rained down from the hole above.

"Dropping a rope! Grab it!"

A line snaked down, swaying in front of them.
Safe.

Pain reached out.

Above them, the rock groaned.
A rasping, ominous sound.
Pebbles rained down, grazing his cheek.

"Damn it..."

"Too dangerous... I'll find another route. Don't move!"

Jack made the call instantly.
His footsteps receded.

When the sound died, a heavy, suffocating silence reclaimed the passage.
The pressure of the underground pressed against Pain's eardrums.

Pain picked up the surviving lamp and looked back at Salt, who was shrinking into herself.
Her face was pale, lips drawn tight.

If they stayed still, the darkness would crush them.

"Jack said to wait, but let's move. There has to be an exit."

Pain tried to sound bright.
Salt’s eyes went round with surprise, but she gave a small nod and stood.

He took her hand.
Her fingers were ice.

Relying on the lamp's fragile heartbeat, they moved deeper toward the reflection of orange light.
The moldy smell faded, replaced by a strangely clear, dry airflow.

They stepped into an open space.

A black door, like polished obsidian, loomed before them.
Slipping through the gap, they found themselves in a small altar room.

Absolute stillness.

In the center sat a slate of obsidian, radiating an alien presence.
A blackness that swallowed the light.

"...This."

As Pain swallowed a breath, Salt’s trembling voice leaked out.

"...Seen. Before."

It was a whisper, but the silence amplified it.
Pain furrowed his brows, peering at her profile.

She had only been in this town a short while.
There was no way she had been in these ruins.

"Where did you see it?"

Salt didn't answer.
She walked toward the slate slowly, like a sleepwalker.

Her eyes were nailed to the black stone.
Fear was there, but something else drove her legs—an irresistible gravity.

"...Returning place."

She muttered the words and extended her right index finger.
A complex crest was carved into the center of the slate.

Her fingertip traced the groove, soft, testing.
As if she were reading the shape of a forgotten memory through her skin.

"Returning place? You mean home?"

Pain asked.

Salt’s hand froze.
She blinked, eyes wandering as if waking from a trance.

After a long pause, she opened her mouth, confused.

"...A very far place."

It made no sense.
But the tension in her back told him she wasn't lying.

She didn't know why she knew.
She was terrified of the bridge between her memory and this reality.

A shout came from behind.

"Oi! Why did you move! I told you it was dangerous!"

Jack.

He had found a way down.
Seeing him emerge from the shadows, Pain let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Jack’s voice held more than anger—there was a desperate edge to it.
A lack of composure that didn't fit the man.

Pain didn't flinch.
He pointed at the slate Salt was touching.

"Jack, this... Salt seems to know it."

Jack approached, breath ragged, and looked up at the stone.
In the lamp light, his stiff expression froze completely.

His eyes widened in genuine shock.

"...Sun and Spiral... The crest of the Early Lemurian Dynasty. Reason and Circulation—the prototype of the 'Earth Mother Furnace'."

Jack muttered the words like a fever dream.
The terms were gibberish to Pain.

But he had never seen Jack this excited, words tumbling out so fast.

Not just a stone.
Pain felt it on his skin—this was something heavy.

"So, big discovery?"

"...Yeah. Forget the client. We're taking it."

Heat crept into Jack’s voice.
A strange exhilaration drifted between the three of them, different from the oppressive silence.

Only Salt remained quiet, still staring at the slate.
The fear had vanished from her profile.
In its place was a strange tranquility—a look of nostalgia.

"...Let's go."

Jack urged them.

Para-para.

Sand fell from the ceiling.

A warning.

They began the careful retreat to the upper levels.

Behind them, the altar room they had just vacated gave a soundless shudder and began to collapse.
Dust motes danced in the lamp light, glittering before sinking quietly back into the dark.