The Secondary Saga

[Gamzee Makara]

GROUP 4

I was too thrown off guard to understand what was going on besides the impending death that awaited us below. Alas, it was not to be. I land practically on my face in a cesspool of stagnant slime water. I am lucky enough to escape a nasty impact, as I land in particularly deeper section of the pit. I do however bang my shoulder again, hitting it on the bottom of this death trap. I resurface, swearing incessantly in German. The water barely coming past my waste, but mein GOTT it smelled and tasted awful... I should not have been cursing and screaming on the way down.

"Well... We certainly went down, but I don't believe this is hell. Is everyone alive?"

I hear murmurs of annoyance and agreement. Crow begins talking about a strategy for making it out of this hole, when we hear the distinct sounds of a fight above. Gah, the robot was still above. I fear for its safety, and hope it makes it down here, preferably not in chunks of sparking metal. It was pitch black in this pit without our torch. I fear we will be fumbling around in the darkness until-

What is that?

Something glowing and flickering is falling from the arena, and only too late do I realize that it is our torch, our light. It lands in the grimy water with a hiss as it's life is extinguished.

Verdammt Perfekt.

After a solid minute of silence, I groan and curse again, cursing our situation and the luck of our group. I briefly ponder what kind of hells the other secondaries are facing, but there is simply no time for that. IRIS floats haplessly down in a spiral, shining like the bulb of a lighthouse. I suppose it will do. With a few words from Crow, we set about finding a way out.

Try as we might to find another mechanism of some sort, or perhaps a weakness in the wall, progress was slowed by various things. The water was disgusting, and every moment my skin was tainted by it was a moment of extreme discomfort. Our light source was admittedly better than the lone torch, but IRIS could only really focus on one area at a time. We had to take turns working in shifts with the spotlight. At one point, I almost prick my finger on a rusty spike or spear of some sort. They were fitted at the bottom of the pool of water, no doubt the original means of disposal of gladiators. There were also various remains of varying levels of decomposition. Many were ancient, but the water certainly ah, helped their complexion.

It is not long before, while sliding my fingers along a crevice, I find a button. A button. Of stone. I do not even think, as the alternative is was rotting here for eternity.

I voice my find in the form of curiosity before pressing the button without a thought. There is a consequence for this. The walls around us begin to rumble as some ancient machinery begins churning behind them. And then, the walls begin to move and rotate, rather quickly I might add. My hand still stuck in the crack of the wall naturally adds a degree of apprehension to my voice as I quickly jump back, shouting at the walls as if they were a misbehaving pet.

"Nein! What are you doing!? You are supposed to be a way out of hell!"

Then, many things happen at once. So enraptured I am with the moving of the brick walls that I fail to notice them falling. I hear shouts from Crow, and the metallic voice of IRIS, as I am yanked by the collar to the center of the room. Dust and mortar and brick all tumble down around me. There as a brief terse exchange of words between our automaton friend and the Captain of our expedition. I catch the tail end of the conversation.

"... might call it a possible way out!"

It is only my sharp thinking that saves my reputation.

"Yes, a way out! Just as I had predicted!" I succumb to a brief fit of coughing, the dust finally getting to me.

Or perhaps that is just the growing evil inside of me. Who knows?

"Let us get going before something ELSE decides to try and kill us!"

And without any objections, we move through the newly erected hole in the wall. It makes a rather nice makeshift cave, and there is even a proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel.' The irony in this is not lost on me, I assure you. I fear the exclamations of my fellows will only be met with disappointment at the hands of another trap or deadly encounter. But, once again the sad realization dawns on me that we have no other options. I shield my eyes from this new light, hesitant to have my hopes dashed once again by fate.

Translations:
mein GOTT = my GOD
Verdammt Perfekt = Fucking Perfekt