𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pt. 16: An Excavation and a Loss

"Good evening," Orion heard his own voice echo through the entire building. "Well, I don't really know if it's a good evening for you or not, and I apologise if your case is the latter. Either way, it's about to get a little bit worse. All living personnel are dismissed. Permanently. Good evening. Or not." He released the button that broadcasted throughout his facility. How hadn't he thought of this before? He could have gotten rid of these deficiencies long ago — he certainly had the means. Machines were just so much more efficient; they didn't make mistakes. Especially not these ones. Atlantean technology had been perfected centuries ago, and now he controlled all of it. Even his arm was made of the same strange stone, and it performed better than his organic arm.

Another great reason machines were better as employees was that they did as they were told. They didn't revolt, or form alliances, or feel. People forming friendships with the monsters was becoming a problem, solved in three seconds by simply getting rid of the people. He needed to keep the monsters for a while; they were providing information. But Orion needed the Atlantean back. He needed his Core — if he could figure out how to harness that, death would no longer be an issue. He could live forever. Unfortunately, the Atlantean had been idiotic enough to destroy his own race, leaving only one. Of course, once Orion was done with his tests there would be none, but that didn't matter to him.

"Sir?" the whirring voice of a machine questioned. He waved the machine in. As it wheeled itself through the door, it turned on a display screen, showing three figures. "This is the footage from the sentry you sent in." As the video progressed, the three figures were revealed to be a faun, an elf, and the escaped Atlantean.

"I thought he was travelling with a human," Orion said, looking up with eyes as calculating as the machine's.

"He was. The faun seems to be that human," the machine replied with as much emotion as an iceberg. "They appear to be moving North." Orion nodded.

"Thank you. You're dismissed." The robot wheeled out without any argument. Orion looked up above his door, where a plaque hung: the motto of MONSTR, of his hunters. He read the words aloud, not because he needed reminding or because he was saying them to anyone in particular, but just because he loved the words on his lips.

"No cost too great."

Kingston opened his eyes when he was sure everyone was asleep, pulling the ring out of his back pocket. He felt like Bilbo in The Hobbit, but he didn't have a desire to keep everyone away from the ring at any cost. And it wasn't his ring, just a ring. One that didn't belong to him. As he held the metal loop in between index finger and thumb, a sudden wave of guilt washed over him and threatened to crush him. Curiosity killed the cat, something in the back of his head warned.

But you have to know. It wasn't his own thoughts — the thing inhabiting the key was back for round three.

"I really don't," Kingston whispered. "I don't even want to — I'll just give it back."

Even if you don't have to know, you want to.

"What do I want to know, exactly?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. No response.

He slid the ring on.

He was back at the Gathering Place with Griffith, but this time they were not alone. Atlanteans of all ages, heights, both men and women, adults and children, were bustling around them. One of them suddenly walked through Kingston. He gasped, an odd cold filling his chest for a moment like the wind had gone through his skeleton. Griffith was again younger than now, perhaps in his early twenties, but his skin had more colour than it had now, almost a soft blue, and his eyes seemed brighter.