Originally Posted by
grampagen
The decision was made, and the four concealed within Damask's sealed frame, their ki signatures muted by Jack's magic, moved to infiltrate the base. Upon finding their seat inside of the Golem, the sensation within was strange. Cloistered in this inner space they shared much of the Golem's sensory intake, but it was strangely distant and ethereal; a sort of remote numbness, sensation at a remove without feeling. Though they could not physically see what Damask did, fleeting sensation did come in the darkness, the flickering images that passed his ancient eyes like heady, phantom impressions split through a lens, and with it an acute, tactile awareness of what tread upon the ground like a strange sort of radar.
"Impressive," Ochazuke noted, "Damask has some means for us to perceive the world outside as we travel within him."
Passage.
Just as they Leyline beneath the Golem's feet shifted the earth, the singular word shook through a collective reverb within his body, and fell through each of the travelers. Cold, mechanical, with a singular driven intention.
"I thought the command," Jack remarked, "and he responded."
The stony Ancient's thoughts were given over to his direct goal, and yet as they sunk beneath the Earth, the memory of the place swept through him in a similar manner. Fragmented images of a civilization long lost bled together with an ephemeral present, filled with stomping boots and war treads and engines.
Ochazuke glanced upward as they passed into that slipstream once again, looking at something overhead. "That would be the base. Some sort of makeshift airfield in the hollow of a cave system, perhaps."
With the speed at which they moved, it was difficult to ascertain just how well replenished the Raider Forces were. Whatever the case, they'd soon bypassed them entirely, and in an instant Damask arrived within the King's Grove.
Deep in the heart of the stone hill, a prominent subterranean hollow lingered. A single shaft of light fell from far above, its illumination broadening by the silent fall of stalactite droplets. Hanging there, weathered by the erosion of eons they seemed to cluster themselves in a ragged line drawn down the body of the stone.
It was as if something had split the mountain and left a jagged scar there that had festered.
Home. A curious wash emotion fell over the Golem's thoughts as he tread over the terrain. The unblemished strata from where he had emerged gave way to something unexpected in a place like this. Blue-green lichens, and a small meadow fluorished by the scant light, fed from the vapours of the collected spring-pools that spread over ancient stone-masonry where they burrowed their roots.
The remains of civilization shattered now blended into the envorons. Pillar-bases arranged in rows and semicircles slowly crumbled under the creep of some strange ivy. Nothing seemed to grow greater than a mossy furnishing or wild grasses, save for a single, withered black tree spreading its spidery limbs like a perpetual shadow.