IN ABSENTIA DEI

8th of January, the day of my arrival. Late last year I received summons for tea with one Francis Arouet, a much renowned Professor, formerly of Nettesheim University in Grenoble, of which I too belong. Such summons stirred a neurotic concern within me, I have never met Professor Arouet -His time at Nettesheim came to an end shortly preceding my own- and at this point in my academia I have not produced anything worth garnering the attention of such a legendary figure within Nettesheim. If I were to be punished for something I have no recollection of, then surely I would have been summoned before the board and not a former Professor.

That chapter I will explain in further detail shortly, as for now I must detail the motions working through me at this very time. As the carriage in which I am -And have been- seated in rocks left and right, bumps up and down on the dark woodland road, I am painted with colours of contrasting excitement and unease. Since I was but a child has my soul thirst for the possibility of an unexpected adventure, but I cannot disregard this growing neurosis of mine, this gnawing prescience that something darker lay at the other end of this dirt road.

I am to rendezvous with General Friedrich of the Prussian Empire at an undisclosed location North of Switzerland, Zürich specifically. I will refrain from documenting the entirety of this operation, as I fear the possibility of an unspoken confidentiality, the breaching of which may earn me a damnation in which recovery would be credulous at best. But I will not obscure all detail, for this situation -As secretive as it may be- does concern me and requires my participation.

It is my desire to pursue this matter and transform it into an experience I can benefit from both academically and politically. But above all is my wish to improve myself spiritually, to grow as a person, as a philosopher, as an explorer. Hence the inclination, the hunger for the task, there is one involved in this mess that I have always deeply admired.

27th of December, the year prior. I was to meet the man known as Francis Arouet in London upon returning to England for the coming Winter. From my Family residence in Manchester, I would travel via steam locomotive down through Birmingham and into the capital on Thames. We were scheduled to meet beneath the ancient ceilings of Fort Plinius. Plinius once upon a time served as a location of much importance to the Holy Roman Empire, but fell into decay at some point in the Dark Ages, only to be rediscovered in the modern era and reissued to provide a leisurely hideout for individuals of high influence within Europe.

Plinius has been shrouded in secrecy throughout recorded history, some seem certain in their claims that the Fort was once utilized by scholars and worshippers of Mithraic doctrine, or rather their successors. The truth is that nobody knows for certain what the Fort was built for, as the only people who hold the answers and those who constructed it. Those who perished lifetimes ago, laid to rest in tombs left unmarked and forgotten to the annals of time.

When I approached the stacked stone of Plinius from the corner of the bustling street, I gave that the workmanship looked no older than late renaissance. There was nothing ancient about it, certainly not bearing the aesthetics of medieval commonplace. It looked as though it could pass as a Palace or dwelling of any nobleman, but not a Fort. I ascended the steps to the pallid wooden door -large and heavy- and knocked twice politely. A well-tailored man greeted me as the yellow door swung ajar, he was not dressed to look of wealthy circles, he simply...was. His attire was immaculate, and his physical hygiene upheld the most noble of societal standard.
"Well?" asked the man, his wrinkled eyes rising and collapsing now and then.
" I am here to speak with Professor Arouet" I said after clearing my throat.
"Ahh" the man inhaled sharply, his chest filling to the brim before exhale, "Yes, we've been expecting you Mr. Lang, follow me".