Connor agreed, "no way." And he didn't really care at this point. In fact, he wanted the Elders to know that their secrets weren't safe. He wanted them looking over their shoulders. He wanted them to feel as unsettled and wary as he did. They owed him that much, at least, after asking him to lay his life on the line for a fake cause.
Wager came running into the room with two more Elite directly behind him. "Whoa!" he said, skidding in the splatter before catching his footing. "What the hell is
that
?"
"Fuck if I know." Connor wrinkled his nose.
"Yeah," Wager agreed. "It stinks. It's also probably what set off that alarm on the console. My guess is reinforcements are on their way now, so we better get out of here."
"Did we get anything useful out of the database?" Connor asked, grabbing a towel off one of the push carts against the wall. He scrubbed at his torn skin and clothes to remove what he could of the blood-like substance clinging to him.
"I downloaded what I could. It would take eons to get all of it, but I tried to focus on files that sounded the most intriguing."
"That will have to suffice. Let's go."
They left with the same caution they'd used upon their arrival, their eyes scanning their surroundings carefully. Still, none of them saw the Elder whose dark gray robes blended so well with the shadows.
He stood silent and unnoticed. Smiling.
----
Chapter 2
"Where's Lieutenant Wager?" Connor asked, glancing around the main underwater cavern, which served as headquarters for the rebel faction in the Twilight.
Above their heads, hundreds of tiny vid screens flashed various scenes like movies, glimpses into the open minds of thousands of "Mediums"—Dreamers brought here without sleep. They hovered in the Twilight, more awake than not, but lacking full comprehension.
The humans called the process of forcibly inducing subconscious thought "hypnosis." Whatever name one gave to it, the Mediums' destination was this cavern. Here the Elders had watched over them and prevented the Nightmares from hitchhiking on their stream of subconscious to reach the mortal plane. It was the only known way to travel to the world of the Dreamers and it was the route Aidan had taken when he'd left the Twilight to protect the Key.
"In the back, sir," replied the Elite warrior standing guard at the mouth of the pool, the only physical entrance or exit.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Connor turned on his heel and strode the length of the rock-lined hallway. Carved into the very heart of the mountain, it seemed to have no end and was disorienting with its matching arched doorways on either side. Thousands of them. All filled with glass tubes, which held Elders-in-training in stasis of some sort. His men had yet to discern who the occupants were, or why they were being kept in that manner.
Frankly, Connor thought the whole thing was creepy, and he was shaken by the realization that he'd lived centuries never knowing anything about his world or the Elders who ruled it. It made him sick to think of how stubborn he'd been when Aidan asked him to consider everything that was unexplained. He had refused to see the signs that bothered his friend for so long.
Connor's boot steps echoed rhythmically as he traversed the distance to his second-in-command with a rapid, agitated stride. Soon the sounds from the largest room faded into silence. Sadly, using "large" to describe the size was only possible when comparing the room to the others down here.
The space was actually pretty damn small, having been designed for the comfortable occupation of only three Elders-in-training. The main cavern was cramped by a half-moon console and the massive screen of rapidly flickering images. Depending on one's angle, a Guardian could see right through the display into the room beyond, a massive space filled with slipstreams—wide beams of moving light that represented streams of subconscious thought.
Snorting, Connor acknowledged for the millionth time
Wager came running into the room with two more Elite directly behind him. "Whoa!" he said, skidding in the splatter before catching his footing. "What the hell is
that
?"
"Fuck if I know." Connor wrinkled his nose.
"Yeah," Wager agreed. "It stinks. It's also probably what set off that alarm on the console. My guess is reinforcements are on their way now, so we better get out of here."
"Did we get anything useful out of the database?" Connor asked, grabbing a towel off one of the push carts against the wall. He scrubbed at his torn skin and clothes to remove what he could of the blood-like substance clinging to him.
"I downloaded what I could. It would take eons to get all of it, but I tried to focus on files that sounded the most intriguing."
"That will have to suffice. Let's go."
They left with the same caution they'd used upon their arrival, their eyes scanning their surroundings carefully. Still, none of them saw the Elder whose dark gray robes blended so well with the shadows.
He stood silent and unnoticed. Smiling.
----
Chapter 2
"Where's Lieutenant Wager?" Connor asked, glancing around the main underwater cavern, which served as headquarters for the rebel faction in the Twilight.
Above their heads, hundreds of tiny vid screens flashed various scenes like movies, glimpses into the open minds of thousands of "Mediums"—Dreamers brought here without sleep. They hovered in the Twilight, more awake than not, but lacking full comprehension.
The humans called the process of forcibly inducing subconscious thought "hypnosis." Whatever name one gave to it, the Mediums' destination was this cavern. Here the Elders had watched over them and prevented the Nightmares from hitchhiking on their stream of subconscious to reach the mortal plane. It was the only known way to travel to the world of the Dreamers and it was the route Aidan had taken when he'd left the Twilight to protect the Key.
"In the back, sir," replied the Elite warrior standing guard at the mouth of the pool, the only physical entrance or exit.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Connor turned on his heel and strode the length of the rock-lined hallway. Carved into the very heart of the mountain, it seemed to have no end and was disorienting with its matching arched doorways on either side. Thousands of them. All filled with glass tubes, which held Elders-in-training in stasis of some sort. His men had yet to discern who the occupants were, or why they were being kept in that manner.
Frankly, Connor thought the whole thing was creepy, and he was shaken by the realization that he'd lived centuries never knowing anything about his world or the Elders who ruled it. It made him sick to think of how stubborn he'd been when Aidan asked him to consider everything that was unexplained. He had refused to see the signs that bothered his friend for so long.
Connor's boot steps echoed rhythmically as he traversed the distance to his second-in-command with a rapid, agitated stride. Soon the sounds from the largest room faded into silence. Sadly, using "large" to describe the size was only possible when comparing the room to the others down here.
The space was actually pretty damn small, having been designed for the comfortable occupation of only three Elders-in-training. The main cavern was cramped by a half-moon console and the massive screen of rapidly flickering images. Depending on one's angle, a Guardian could see right through the display into the room beyond, a massive space filled with slipstreams—wide beams of moving light that represented streams of subconscious thought.
Snorting, Connor acknowledged for the millionth time
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