falling;;

[derepressed]

Three months later.
??? Catacombs, whatever the fuck this country is called.

It is so dark that Chizuru feels almost like the darkness is real, tangible, sentient and capable of exerting its pressure and it's a struggle for her to keep walking. She can't see a thing. The only indication she has that she isn't completely and utterly alone is the sound of Saitou's footsteps, the rustling of his clothing, and the soft sound of his breathing, and though she's sorely tempted to reach out and take his hand or hold onto the back of his jacket she can't bring herself to do it because that's too childish. They're here for a very specific reason and they don't have time to waste with her being frightened.

It's been three months since that fateful day at their headquarters, when they had lost nearly everything. It's been a few weeks since Souji's coughing had worsened, and four days since he had collapsed; they'd managed to find him shelter and a good doctor to watch over him, but it's clear that something is horribly, terribly wrong. Frantic research, hour after hour hunched over old medical texts had told them that what Souji suffered from was incurable.

But the doctor, also a student of old legends and myths, had said that there were tales of similar ailments being cured in the ancient past, but the knowledge of how to do so was... gone. Locked away. Buried forever with those who had known it.

...and so they had to try. The catacombs of this civilization lie deep underground and Chizuru doesn't know what they'll find here, but it's the best (the only) lead they've got and Souji's body isn't healing itself the way it should be, as a knight...

The knowledge that he is depend on them to figure this out spurs her onward even in the face of her anxiety. It seems so petty, to be afraid of the dark when Souji has so much more to fear.

Somewhere far ahead of them, there is the flickering of candlelighht. Chizuru sucks in a sharp breath and can't keep herself from reaching out to take Saitou's arm, her clutching his sleeve like he's all that's keeping her from breaking down. She wishes she were stronger, but it's hard. It's been hard ever since that day three months ago, and she is sure the cracks are starting to show.

Assuming he doesn't stop walking when she grabs onto him for comfort, they draw closer to that flickering candlelight and emerge in an underground chamber with a high, vaulted ceiling - the architecture seems so advanced that if not for the fact that it was all buried underground she never would have believed this was a place people lived in the past. At their feet is some kind of track - the tunnel leading in here from the surface had, at one point, merged with a tunnel belowground that some sort of vehicle must have traveled on in ancient times.

There are two winged statues at the center of the chamber, and the only light in the room comes from the flickering candles at their bases, flames burning bright despite the fact that there doesn't seem to be any living soul around to tend to them. The lights cast long shadows on the statues, which face each other and hold a sword and a scythe made of marble, the blades coated with what looks, to Chizuru's eyes, to be dried blood. She hopes she's seeing things.

Then there is a rustle of... something. Chizuru can't pinpoint where it comes from, but a flame flickers into existence at their immediate right and it's as though it set off chain reaction, braziers set into the walls lighting themselves of their own accord. As her eyes adjust to the light, she bites her lip and takes a look at their surroundings.

There are two levels, though there are no stairs; the balcony above them is, for the moment, out of their reach, as are all the openings above them leading out onto it. Across from them is another dark tunnel that the track at their feet runs into; she can't see very far into it. There are other passageways set into three of the four walls - one at the wall their backs are to, two at the wall on their right-hand side, and one at the wall they are facing. None of them are barred by doors, but peering more than a few feet into them from this location is impossible.

She surveys the room with unease, her gaze lingering on the statues and noting that there seem to be inscriptions of some kind at their bases, before she looks to Saitou as though he can tell them what they ought to do. It's so quiet they could hear a pin drop - which is unnerving, considering the way their surroundings had lit up of their own accord. She has the awful feeling that they're getting in over their heads.