Chapter Text
A fresh route had emerged, illuminating a way ahead, inching him nearer to fulfilling his mission and safeguarding the waters from adversaries. This was just one segment of the vast ocean, but it marked a significant step in the right direction.
X reassured himself with this thought as he pressed on, gliding through the water while taking in the sights of his surroundings.
It appeared to him, if he were to speak candidly, that the layout resembled a secluded private estate rather than a dignified military installation. While there were indeed a few distinctive buildings scattered throughout The White City of Arcadia and Abel City—like the venerable Maverick Hunter Headquarters that flashed through X's thoughts—he couldn't shake the feeling that this place exuded a sense of vulnerability that was strikingly different.
Although it undeniably boasted the colossal dimensions typical of a fortress, that was the sole characteristic X could identify as common. If he were less informed, he might have thought he stumbled upon a forgotten fragment of Atlantis or perhaps a remnant of the mythical continent of Mu. The architecture was predominantly circular, with concentric rings stacked one atop the other, culminating in a smaller summit that suggested the ruler of this domain could survey everything from that vantage point. The surface shimmered like delicate crystal or glass, suggesting a design that prioritized aesthetics over practicality. Yet, despite the owner's apparent inclination towards the superficial rather than a soldier's mindset, X had a hunch they were far from unprepared. In fact, this place radiated an air of meticulous effort and intention behind its creation.
Amidst the mesmerizing and complex spectacle, X's attention was drawn to a striking warning boldly inscribed on a beautifully crafted sign that hung above the entrance to the underwater castle.
Abel City
As she delved deeper into her processor, the haunting words echoed in her mind: "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here?" Roll replayed the phrase, meticulously sifting through her data banks for any connections or references to familiar topics. "Sounds like a literary reference."
"I believe it is, as a matter of fact," X answered her from his current position, standing in front of the doorway that was still sealed shut. "It looks like the area the Cruiziler crashed into was just a cover. This is the real base of operations."
Roll reflected, "Rather than a warm welcome, it carries the ominous words Dante encountered upon his descent into Hell," referencing the Divine Comedy. "But from what you're describing, this place resembles an underwater palace, doesn't it? Rather far cry from nine layers of suffering and torment, isn't it?"
"It looks that way," X confessed. "Although, from the looks of it, there appear to be only seven levels to this place, not nine."
Roll contemplated the number seven, her thoughts swirling around its significance. "It's a powerful figure in cosmology, particularly within the Abrahamic faiths," she remarked. "I have to say, even if it doesn't quite reach the grandeur of the Nine Levels, I can't shake the feeling that seven holds a purpose of its own," her lips tightened with concern. "Be careful."
"I will," X answered, making the vow to himself as well. "I'm entering now." he relayed, Roll was only able to monitor his progress from afar, solely based on his updates.
Please…don't let yourself get taken advantage of.
Underwater Base
He was determined to fulfill that promise, but X understood that it would require significant effort from him. The thought of saving Marty danced in his mind, yet he couldn't shake Roll's earlier evaluation of the mermaid's unsettling knowledge—knowledge that she probably shouldn't have had in the first place. He knew he couldn't afford to linger on matters beyond his grasp. Whether she was a hostage or not, her presence meant he would ultimately track her down. Only then could he begin to unearth the real truths he sought.
The Palace awaited his entry.
With a swift motion, X aimed his buster at the security panel next to the entrance. The moment he fired, the panel shattered, triggering the lock to disengage and granting access to the predominantly blue Hunter waiting outside. Stepping through, X found himself standing in the center of an arc-shaped hallway that appeared to stretch on endlessly, save for the location of two doors on each end, standing beside the other. The interior mirrored the exterior, crafted from a glistening, reflective substance that seemed almost delicate, reminiscent of the intricate beauty of coral reefs found in the Coral Triangle. In stark contrast, the doors stood out as solid black slabs, creating a striking juxtaposition against the shimmering surroundings. Each door featured a matching engraving at the top of the obsidian surface: a finely detailed depiction of a seemingly simple creature, curiously linked to its aquatic relatives beneath the waves.
A simple garden snail.
The intricate depiction of the elegantly shaped mollusk drew the viewer's eye, emphasizing its spiraling shell—an exquisite blend of form and function. The shell, while beautifully designed, appeared almost burdensome, hinting at the weight it added to the creature. It suggested a duality; though it offered some protection and advantages, it also brought significant challenges. He found himself lost in thought, perhaps overanalyzing the scene, but the ornate design and the mesmerizing creature depicted on the door ignited a sense of wonder within him. The amount of artistry dedicated to what was typically a mundane door was nothing short of remarkable.
As he approached, he felt the door respond to his presence, slowly creaking open to reveal a shadowy chamber that swallowed all traces of light. The air inside was thick with an eerie stillness, and a shiver ran down his spine as he peered into the darkness.
With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, he stepped cautiously across the threshold into the unknown.
The ground level of the building radiated a breathtaking beauty, its design embodying a shimmering surface that seemed to dance in harmony with the sunlight, reflecting sparkling patterns reminiscent of rippling water. Yet, as X stepped inside this particular room, he was struck by an overwhelming sense of contrast. The interior felt hauntingly different; shadows loomed in every corner, and the air was thick with a sense of nostalgia that made him feel as if he had wandered into the ghostly remnants of the Titanic. The elegant decay of bygone luxury surrounded him, evoking vivid images of grand dining halls and opulent ballrooms, now left to linger in a forgotten past.
"X, can you hear me?" Roll's voice echoed in his processor, bringing him from his thoughts and back to the present.
"Loud and clear, Roll," X answered. "I've entered the first floor."
"And what do you see?"
"Well," X began, surveying his current environment. "Truth be told, it sort of looks like a standard room."
The term "standard" seemed almost too mild to capture the essence of this place. Despite the evident wear and age that clung to every corner, X could discern the remnants of a time when it exuded both sophistication and grace. Clearly, this space had been crafted with purpose, with each detail meticulously chosen to evoke a specific atmosphere.
Again, the image of the snail manifested in his mind.
The chamber, unmistakably part of an underwater base, exuded an eerie charm as if frozen in time. Its interior was adorned with what appeared to be a collection of ancient furniture and various utilities, meticulously arranged yet now succumbing to decay, their stories lost to the depths of time. Although, from what little details he could discern, there was a theme present. Underneath the plethora of barnacles, algae, and some seemingly selected species of coral that overtook what was once furniture meant for use, X found himself likening this place to two settings he had seen before, one from far before his or even Dr. Light's time, and another that he had become all too familiar with.
Dr. Cain's study in Arcadia, while echoing the overall design of the so-called "White City" on Japan's eastern shore, had an interior that felt like a nostalgic journey through a mid-century home. It was filled with relics from the past that captivated the blue Hunter's imagination, from the countless bound volumes that adorned the shelves to the fascinating displays of ancient fossils showcasing prehistoric plant life. X observed that, even in the twenty-second century, this human cherished the importance of honoring history and the treasures it held.
The chamber evoked a peculiar memory for X, reminiscent of an old photograph he had caught a fleeting glimpse of long ago, barely registering in his mind. That piece, known as The Snail Room, was crafted in the early twentieth century by the Italian artist Carlo Bugatti, who drew heavily from the enchanting Art Nouveau movement of his time. True to this artistic style, The Snail Room showcased furniture and decor that mirrored the organic curves and shapes found in nature. Each piece of woodwork and carving was meticulously designed, featuring a spiral motif that resonated throughout the room, echoing the elegant spiral of a snail's shell. In stark contrast to Bugatti's meticulously designed and pristine materials of wood, leather, and metal, these replicas were shrouded in layers of dirt and corrosion. This decay suggested that, despite the effort invested in curating a particular aesthetic for the chamber's interior, it had been abandoned to the ravages of time, allowing nature to slowly assert its dominance and reclaim the space.
And not just that, but other shelled creatures were displayed here as well. Or rather, their remains. Fossils of ancient species such as the nautilus and the giant orthocone, all ancient mollusks.
The apparent neglect seemed almost deliberate as if the slow decay and deterioration of what was once pristine and shielded from the outside world was designed to convey a deeper message, a subtle indication of a larger truth that X had only just begun to uncover.
Noticing a door at the far end of the room, X made his way over, the panels sliding open to unveil an elevator, his journey still beckoning him to ascend.
"And what's this door have on it?" Roll questioned, having just heard the details of X's previous location.
The Maverick Hunter studied the rectangular slab before him, the creature displayed before him was certainly different than the last. "If I'd to make a guess, I'd say some sort of boar or pig, but the tusks sort of hint at the former."
"Swine is actually one of the animals that humans just barely managed to domesticate," his sister mentioned. "So, even with everything put in place, if released back into the wilderness, a domestic pig could very well revert to that of a wild hog with little issue."
X remarked, "There's definitely a recurring theme at play here." He went on, "While we don't have nine levels, we do have seven." His thoughts deepened as he added, "And I'm starting to believe that each of these levels draws some inspiration from Dante, or perhaps incorporates aspects of Catholicism."
"Oh? How so?" Roll questioned, curious as to his line of thinking.
In the initial chamber, a snail's likeness adorned the walls, and the space itself resembled a once-majestic artwork now reduced to a state of decay and neglect, X reflected, recalling his recent exit from the grotesque version of The Snail Room. "Strangely enough, no foes were lurking about, as if the essence of the room conveyed that it was crafted with the least amount of consideration possible."
"...sloth."
X paused. "What did you say?"
"The theme," Roll answered. "It's sloth," she clarified. "The snail, along with the turtle, was once used as a symbol or representation for one of the vices that the Catholic religion and other branches of Christianity consider 'the seven deadly sins', meant to show what humans back then believed to be the qualities of laziness and lack of effort in an animal."
As clarity began to dawn, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing the identity of the formidable opponent X would likely confront at the summit. Although the figure responsible for the destruction of the rescue vessel remained largely shrouded in mystery, the intelligence gathered at headquarters, coupled with unwavering attention to detail, provided X with ample hints to envision the face behind the chaos.
"And this one?" X questioned, wrenching his thoughts to what was going on at the present. "I assume 'gluttony', yes?"
"Most likely," Roll concluded, given the image presented on the door. "Of course, given the first level didn't have anything in store for you, don't assume that this one won't maybe have something."
"Right," X answered. "I'm heading in."
"Be careful."
As he drew near, the obsidian panel recognized his presence and swung open, granting the Maverick Hunter access. His emerald eyes were met with a strikingly different scene than the one he had encountered below.
In the lower chamber, the remnants of a once-splendid exhibition lay in a state of decay, transformed into a mere shadow of its former glory. This area felt less like a room and more like a rudimentary shelter, evoking images of a time long before humanity's ancestors established their first communities and civilizations. The ceiling and walls were intricately designed, their contours undulating in a way that mirrored the rugged textures of cave walls, enhancing the primitive ambiance of the space.
The rough, jagged stone was adorned with what looked like ancient cave paintings, sprawling across the walls in a mesmerizing display. The rich browns and deep rust reds hinted at meticulous craftsmanship, capturing the essence of these long-lost artworks from a bygone era, and evoking a sense of wonder and mystery.
"What's the inside of this floor look like?" Roll's voice whispered, wishing to know her younger brother was ok, yet also curious for details regarding the environment.
X replied, "It felt as if I had wandered into the legendary caves of Altamira, Spain," his gaze fixating on a large figure that bore a striking resemblance to a prehistoric buffalo, its robust body and powerful limbs intricately rendered in deep black, complete with defined hooves, majestic horns, and a flowing mane. "I can't be wrong about this," he whispered, a sense of certainty washing over him. "It must be him."
"Who?" Roll inquired, noting how X went silent afterward for a few moments. "...another one that was originally…?"
X nodded, though the gesture was laced with reluctance. He knew he had to relay the information to his informant, but the truth weighed heavily on him. If only he could muster more strength! "The systems at HQ flagged them as part of the Sixth Navel Unit, but," he hesitated, his teeth sinking into his lip. "There's only one among them who would go to such lengths for this."
She was initially going to pry further, yet sensed that perhaps such a course of action wouldn't be the best thing for the time being. "Well, if that's the case, then they're clearly expecting you," she told him. "It'd be rather rude to keep them waiting, don't you think?"
X nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, but first we need to figure out how to reach the next level," he said, halting his gradual movements beneath the surface. He took a moment to survey his surroundings. "And that probably involves activating something to gain entry." Of course, then came the question of what exactly such a trigger would be. True, the previous chamber held little in the way of troubling riddles, yet that was only due to the theme of the vice it followed. The blue Hunter suspected the others wouldn't be as lenient with him.
In the absence of furniture, there were rectangular blocks fashioned to resemble reclining or sitting areas, and the chamber was also filled with various objects and artifacts scattered around, complementing the vibrant cave paintings that adorned the walls. The rugged terrain showcased artistic renditions of prehistoric creatures and wildlife, alongside the handprints of early humans and possibly other humanoid beings. These vivid images illustrated primitive humans pursuing ancient beasts with their handcrafted tools, all in a desperate struggle to endure the relentless harshness of the natural world. Articles of clothing crafted from skins and hides were hung on the walls alongside the paintings, teeth, and claws from slain beasts worn as trophies, and the elongated tusks of a mammoth, it felt very much like a display of a time where riches and wealth were not measured in gold, but in living to see another sunrise.
Still, just how did this relate to the theme of this particular room?
Just then, X spotted a rather peculiar object situated against yet another interesting sight. Ironic, seeing as he was beginning to wonder just when the sin in question would play into this particular scenario.
Perched gracefully on a meticulously arranged pile of energen crystals was a striking replica of a figurine. Its feminine silhouette was pronounced, boasting exaggerated features in the chest, legs, and abdomen, while the absence of arms and intricate details on the head added an air of mystery to its form. Yet one particular detail struck him as odd: there seemed to be a small energen crystal situated where the navel would be located as if its stomach contained a viable source of nourishment inside.
All he had to do was pluck it out and take it for himself.
X turned to Roll, a spark of curiosity in their eyes as they neared the enigmatic stone object. It loomed over the shimmering crystals, almost regal in its stance, as if it were a statue of great importance. The resemblance to its original inspiration was uncanny. "There's definitely something intriguing about this," X remarked, a hint of uncertainty lacing their voice. "But I can't quite figure out if it poses a threat."
"What exactly do you see?" Roll inquired.
X observed thoughtfully, "It appears to me that this is the Venus of Willendorf." he answered, "Additionally, several of the artifacts here bear a striking resemblance to ancient monuments from prehistoric times," his optics then turned to the source of energy that the replica stood upon. "Although these look rather modern by comparison."
"Don't be so eager to take any," Roll warned. "If this room's theme is what I think it is, then any offering you find is surely rigged in some way."
"Indeed," X agreed. "Still," after a few more moments of studying the figure, the blue Hunter reached forward and, with careful precision, removed the Venus from her place, taking her in his possession. "She's got a crystal in her too," he remarked. "But I don't feel like taking it."
No, this entire thing was a setup, all of it. Even though he had suffered some injuries from his previous skirmishes outside of this place, he wasn't so foolish to just go and take what was clearly too good to be true. But still, there was a reason the Venus figure held an energen crystal in her as well. Yet what for?
He then spotted an animal skull affixed to the northern wall, its bony jaws agape, with horns curling downward, giving it the fierce appearance of a predatory ram or goat. The unhinged jaw created a perfect opening, seemingly designed to cradle the figurine within. In an instant, the skull's lower jaw snapped shut on the Venus, shattering the clay from which she was crafted and striking the energen crystal nestled in her navel. X's suspicions were confirmed; it was indeed too good to be true.
BOOM!
The blast was noticeably milder than the ones he had encountered before, but it still managed to shake the chamber, causing several items to tumble from their perches on the walls. As the smoke dissipated, X discovered that beneath the shattered remains of the animal skull lay a compact control panel, undoubtedly designed to grant him access to the next level.
The way he discovered that panel seemed to carry a message of its own. The Venus, among the first representations of the human form, particularly the female figure, symbolizes a woman's fertility and her remarkable capacity to bring forth new life from within her own being. One half of the equation was meant to produce and carry the future.
And he had just inserted her into the literal mouth of a beast.
"What's this door have on it?"
X surveyed the black panel before him. This time, the creature was somewhat perplexing to him. On the surface of the door was the carving of a winding serpent, its elongated body seemingly swerving every which direction until its head came to position itself in the very center as if that particular feature was meant to be the main focus.
"My guess is either a snake or a rather scaly eel," X answered his sister. "Although, I suppose we'll see once I'm inside."
"It seems that's the only way," Roll concluded, knowing that her sibling would have to continue forward into potential danger. "But if the last chamber had a trap, then I doubt this one will be any different."
X nodded in agreement, and as if acknowledging him, the door swung open to welcome him in. "The real question is, what vision does the interior decorator have in store this time?"
There was only one way to discover that.
As he crossed the threshold, the predominantly azure Maverick Hunter stepped into a space that, while still echoing the essence of ancient times, appeared to have evolved several centuries beyond the primitive decor he had encountered earlier.
"So," Roll began, going over the details X had just given her. "You're saying the ancient Middle East?"
"Or perhaps Egypt," X answered, still taking in the details of his new location. "Although, I think it's safe to say the animal of choice is NOT an eel."
In this chamber, the entity that reigned supreme seemed far more suited to solid earth than the depths of the sea, even though some of its relatives flourished in the ocean's embrace. The room itself resembled a tomb or a hallowed temple, its robust structure upheld by exquisitely carved Persian columns. Yet, rather than the usual animal designs such as bulls gracing the tops, these pillars were topped with serpent heads, their graceful bodies winding around the columns and flowing down to the ground beneath. The ceiling soared impressively high for a ground-level space as if it sought to divert attention from the past and future, yearning to hold the spotlight all on its own. The decor and assorted artifacts, predominantly crafted from bronze or other lesser metals, gleamed with a polish that made them appear almost golden in the limited light filtering through the exquisitely designed windows. Their reflections danced like an endless array of shimmering scales, captivating anyone who dared to look.
"See anything of interest yet?" Roll inquired. "Or something maybe a little suspicious?"
"Not just yet," X replied. "However, I believe I can identify this space as influenced by Achaemenid architecture," he said, his green eyes scanning the elaborate designs that adorned what was otherwise a stark room, punctuated only by a handful of recognizable figures and statues. "The ancient civilizations of that era had some intriguing beliefs about snakes, didn't they?" he inquired, concentrating on locating the path upward.
"Quite a few, actually," Roll answered. "True, there's the more common knowledge figures such as Wadjet and Apep of ancient Egypt," she told him. "But there's also the figure of Zahhak of Zorioastroism and the dragon-like Azhdaha," she continued. "I could go on and on, as there are several accounts of both the worship of snakes and an open distain for them."
X pondered, realizing that this chamber appeared to be a blend of both elegance and menace. The serpents were showcased with a grace that spoke of meticulous craftsmanship, yet each one bore a unique countenance. Perhaps it was a stretch to attribute human emotions to these inanimate sculptures, but there was an unmistakable air of contempt etched into the features of each snake, a loathing that seemed to emanate from their very essence.
They seemed enraged at the very idea that anything else could exist and receive recognition apart from their own presence.
In the corner, X noticed something unusual: a surprising find that, upon closer examination, blended seamlessly with the ambiance of the area. There lay a figure resembling a Reploid, ensnared by a tangle of serpents whose sinuous forms coiled around his limbs, holding him captive. He appeared to be engaged in a frantic yet futile attempt to break free. It was the identity of this figure that captured X's attention, serving as a haunting reminder of the conflict he was currently involved in.
The tiny form of Chill Penguin was trapped by a writhing mass of snakes, and his stance suggested he had put up a valiant struggle. However, the droop of his head revealed a sense of resignation, as if the fight had been slowly drained from him. The Maverick Hunter recalled the bird's taunts from their fierce battle on the island's towering summits, where the icy remains of his former comrades lay scattered, transformed into his bitter foes. They had once stood by his side, but now they reveled in his suffering, mocking him with their derisive laughter. It seemed as though the echoes of their envy had taken hold of his very essence, consuming him from within.
"...maybe, if I had spoken up sooner, or more than I did," X muttered, optics studying the figure. "You would at least still be here."
Chill Penguin's tiny form was ensnared by a writhing mass of snakes, and his posture indicated that he had put up a valiant struggle. However, the droop of his head revealed a sense of resignation, as if the fight had slowly drained from him.
As he lowered his gaze, X noticed an intriguing detail on the sculpture: the Penguin appeared to be clutching something in its beak. With a cautious eye for the unusual, X lifted the figure and discovered a crimson object wedged in the bird's mouth, resembling an apple. He toyed with the shiny red item, considering whether to extract it or leave it alone when, suddenly, the apple slipped down the figure's throat and became lodged there. This unexpected movement triggered a resounding CLICK that reverberated throughout the room.
Then, the ascent began.
As X walked, memories flooded back of a particular story woven into the fabric of countless myths about serpents. This one, in particular, featured an apple and the dawn of humanity. While many viewed the opening chapters of Genesis as the tragic start of mankind's downfall, an alternative narrative existed—one that portrayed the serpent not as a sinister force but as a harbinger of enlightenment. Moreover, it hinted at a deeper divide between two celestial beings.
This philosophical perspective, known as Gnosticism, articulated a clear separation between the ultimate, unknowable force that governs all existence, referred to as God and another entity termed the Demiurge, who was seen as the "creator" of the physical realm. Gnostics emphasized the importance of personal knowledge as the key to salvation, contrasting it with the notion of faith alone. In their narrative, the serpent in the Garden of Eden was not condemned but rather celebrated by Adam and Eve, who expressed gratitude to the creature for imparting knowledge, or gnosis, which liberated them from the oppressive grasp of the Demiurge. This being was equated with Yahweh or Yaldabaoth, the God depicted in the Old Testament, whom they regarded as a false deity. In their view, the true God was the one revealed in the New Testament and through the teachings of Christ. They believed that the Demiurge created the material world with the intent of ensnaring souls within physical forms, trapping them in a realm filled with suffering and anguish that he himself designed to inflict torment.
The apple nestled in the beak of the Penguin held a dual significance that X found perplexing; was it a symbol of the onset of corruption or a gift of enlightenment? Perhaps it embodied both concepts. As he pressed forward, another thought nagged at him. In the gaze of the creator of this realm, and in Sigma's eyes as well, the identity of the Demiurge was unmistakable. Yet, in a striking twist, the metallic beings now possessed the ability to vanquish their deities, a power that the flesh-and-blood humans could only dream of.