"Is that thing a chanized corpse?"
Mr. Defoe asked.
"Hard to say. What we're seeing is just a projection of so kind. The real body should still be behind the door."
The old gravedigger spoke, then shoved past the person blocking the entrance and stepped into the building. The others followed close behind, with Jenkins third in line. As he crossed the threshold into the foyer, his nose twitched, and he caught the scent of rancid oil that Lady Drasal had ntioned. But a mont later, he realized the two n who had been in front of him were gone. When he glanced back, the two companions who were supposed to be behind him hadn't entered either.
Only the doorman stepped inside. Then, right before Jenkins's eyes, he gently shut the door, sealing away the dense fog, the pouring rain, and the weak sliver of sunlight.
The foyer was dry, and the water dripping from Jenkins's clothes was already ruining the soft, embroidered carpet beneath his feet. He wasn't exactly an invited guest, however, so he paid no mind to such formalities.
He took a step toward the closed door, turned, and brought his hand down, smashing the man's head as if splitting a lon. But just as the gravedigger had predicted, it was only a projection. No body collapsed to the floor. Instead, a blast of scorching, foul-slling steam billowed into the air.
Jenkins drew his Spirit Striking Cane and turned back around. He stood in the unlit foyer, his gaze shifting from the narrow staircase leading to the second floor to the cramped living room on his right. His fingers slowly traced the orb at the head of the cane, his expression growing serene.
Unlike a Mysterious Realm, an Arcane Lock—while also a type of pocket dinsion—still adhered to most of the rules of the physical world. It rely introduced a few special rules of its own, depending on its specific nature.
This ant most physical laws still applied within an Arcane Lock. To defeat one, you had to identify the rules that deviated from reality and overco them. Things like the mathematical puzzles in Alexia's Maze, the cleansing light that swept away the filth in the Sanctified Domain, or the blood-mosquito thralls in the Vampire Manor. Solve the unique puzzle, and you could make your way to the core to shatter the lock.
Standing still was not an option. Jenkins could sense the strongest spiritual aura emanating from the attic. He had no idea where his companions had vanished to, but heading upward seed like the correct path.
First, however, he decided to investigate the living room on the ground floor. He needed to understand the nature of this particular Arcane Lock.
A quick scan revealed nothing unusual about the house's decor. The furniture and its arrangent imdiately suggested an ordinary middle-class family. Given the property's proximity to the city center and the cost of real estate, their financial standing was easy to surmise.
Jenkins approached a cabinet in the living room. He glanced at the porcelain plates displayed on wooden shelves behind the glass, then picked up a picture fra from an open shelf below.
The black-and-white photograph in the fra showed a family of three. A middle-aged father stood on the grass with his daughter, a picnic blanket and basket at their feet, while a middle-aged woman sat upon the blanket. Judging by the photo's oxidation, it couldn't have been more than a year old.
The crucial detail was the father's face—it was the very sa man who had opened the door for them.
"So, this is a trap, not a cultist hideout?"
He wondered. Just then, he saw the man's face in the photograph move—or more accurately, only his mouth and eyes moved. Perhaps the people of this world were accustod to black-and-white photos, but for Jenkins, they carried a certain unnerving quality. That, combined with the sight of eyes darting around in an otherwise frozen face, sent a shiver down his spine. Still, he managed to make out the man's voice, which seed to emanate from the picture itself:
"I am an engineer at the Nolan Third chanical Works."
After a deliberate pause, the man's eyes darted to one side, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bizarre expression.
"One day, I found a peculiar tal toy on my desk, the likes of which I had never seen before."
The eyes darted about feverishly in their sockets. Jenkins had never seen any living person's eyes move with such unnatural speed.
"I tried to take it apart."
In the gray background of the photograph, hazy, unidentifiable shapes began to form. They resembled so sort of behemoth, or perhaps colossal tentacles writhing through the sky.
"And then... I saw."
The eyes stopped their frantic dance and stared, fixed and unblinking, directly at Jenkins.
"I saw the wisdom in the chaotic sea of stars, the mysteries in the void beyond the world, the brilliance in the deepest trenches of the soul... I awakened."
Jenkins recognized the classic signs of madness. Most lunatics believed themselves enlightened, convinced that ordinary, ignorant people were the ones with their eyes sealed shut. The line between sanity and madness was often blurry, but when soone suddenly claid to possess a wisdom no one else had, it was a safe bet they were insane.
"I have witnessed wisdom. I have obtained wisdom. And now, I wish to offer you the chance to unlock it for yourself."
Clatter!
Sothing heavy fell from the top of the tall cabinet and landed on the floor by Jenkins's feet. It was a tal object, difficult to describe. Large and small rings were nested within one another, held together by complex interlocking joints and a web of tal filants that resembled a tangled ball of yarn.
The whole thing ford a peculiar, oval-shaped "toy." Jenkins couldn't decide if it qualified as art or just a piece of scrap tal. If he'd seen it in a rubbish bin on a street corner, he wouldn't have batted an eye.
"Solve it," the voice from the photo instructed, "and you may proceed."
Jenkins glanced at the photo one last ti. Seeing that the man had nothing more to say, he set the fra down and picked up the tal contraption.
So, this Arcane Lock was more akin to the mathematical maze Alexia had created, not the vampires' Bloody Banquet. Both shared a common trait: you had to complete a specific task to proceed. Failure ant being trapped inside forever.
Jenkins had little interest in playing these kinds of gas. He picked up the object, turned it over in his hands, and confird it wasn't a puzzle that could be solved with a simple twist or two. He set it back on the floor, took two steps back, and then charged forward. Just before reaching it, he leaped into the air, tucking into a crouch to lower his center of gravity as he descended, and brought his full weight down on the tal creation with a powerful stomp.
Unsurprisingly, it was crushed flat. He picked up the resulting "wire pancake" and pressed it between his palms. Flas erupted from his hands, and billowing, acrid smoke, thick with the bizarre stench of burning tal, filled the living room.
In monts, the blessed flas had incinerated it completely, leaving nothing but a fine black residue on Jenkins's palms.
"Does that count as solving it?"
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