After what seems like forever, you finally arrive at the bottom of the pit. Here, there is a sordid kind of visible darkness suffocating you, drowning you in its tightening grip. To take even a few steps is to feel as though you fall into the deep end of the ocean. But you must press on, you know that it is an illusion.
Wandering this deep pit, neither of the walls within grasp, you intrinsically understand that this apparent challenge is nearing its end. But, something is here with you. It is intelligent. You can feel it, sense it. This consciousness, unlike the other beasts you have encountered, is aware of you in an all too intimate way.
It is not long before you encounter it: it is a structure, perhaps a monument of some kind.
Walking around it, and judging by what you can see, it is comprised of several jet-black monoliths arranged in a pentagram framework. Each monolith is connected to the other by an elaborate series of blood-red wires which look like cooling pipes. Slipping inside the outer shell of this monolith to touch the largest centermost one, an act you quickly realize is a mistake, the dense visible darkness suddenly lifts.
It happens in an instant.
All around you glyphs and odd pictogram-like symbols appear. Staring outward beyond the monument, you see an army of ghosts; each ghost hovering over their rotting body. It is at this moment that you realize how fresh these deaths are and that whatever killed these people, must still be lurking. It must still be nearby.
Then, the monument blasts you outside of its outer wall. Words carve themselves into the world and to your horror you see that they are now engraved on your own skin.
“The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow / A hundredfold, who having learnt thy way / Early may fly the Babylonian woe.”
[“The triple Tyrant:” has one of each word engraved on one of the three outer shells of the monument. “that from these may grow” sprout outward from one of the monument’s outer shells, each landing at the foot of one of the graves and ghost’s feet. “A hundredfold”, though, wraps itself up and around your left foot, while “who having learnt thy way” coils up the right foot; “Early may fly the Babylonian woe” snakes up your abdomen and chest, finally imprinting “woe” on your head, a stinging burning sensation raking your senses.]
A false God in my midst. Death, then, did not claim all of you during the great strife. I confess myself amused. But, I can see you are young. Your life is but an accident. You have never encountered linguistic matter like this before, have you, Seer? Let’s see what you make of it.
So said the monument. [Try to converse with the monument.]
You realize that this is going to be your most difficult challenge, yet. This time, your own body is mixed in with your interpretations. A wrong moved could easily end your life. You must proceed with caution.
What have you accomplished?