The Croucher

Fate

You find yourself in a dark hallway, extending as far as your eyes can see, which is not that far. Your line of sight is obstructed as if in the same foggy clearing as you landed in. The walls are made of a dark stone cold to the touch, assembled from a set of irregular bricks. As you get closer to them, you notice some senseless carvings. Here and there, words like "Union", "Eternity", "League". English? Others are written in the same characters, though you fail to get their meaning. But most are drawings, ideograms or plain gibberish.

There is something oddly familiar with this place. Have you been there before? Surely you'd remember, if that were the case. This kind of place is both hard to formally describe and forget. You take a few steps forward in the darkness, prodding the wall with your hands. You are the only source of light here, a frail flame dancing in the wind. With a shiver, you take another step.

You're finally here. I've been waiting.

The low, guttural voice hits you like a wall. You stumble backward, nearly falling down. It didn't come form the front, but rather echoed from both direction, bouncing off the walls so many times most of the tone is gone. It sounds almost like a growl, and you can barely make out the words. As you regain your bearings, the echo fade in the distance as the hallway goes silent once again.

Call it fate, destiny, or even inevitability. We were always meant to meet here and now.

Once again, the sound wave hit you before you can even react. An even stronger one that throws you to your knees. The presence carried by the words is enough to leave you breathless. This time, you feel it in your bones. This is the end of the line. You must flee, leave this place, return to the safety of the Agency. You start to run.