Chapter 237: Twenty Two

They climbed the giant steps up to the temple cautiously with their weapons drawn, peering forward into the darkness beyond the massive doorway.

It loomed before them like a black maw, almost like it was the doorway to the abyss. The fact that they were heading towards it, and not away, wasn’t lost on the crew members. They looked every bit as fearful and hesitant as they rightly should, but it was their captain’s confidence, and that Finn, and Althea, that gave them the will to keep following.

They reached the top, and without stopping, Vara stepped through the doorway first, with Slick Jones by her side, and Finn, Althea and the Blessed, close behind. The others also followed in a tight cluster.

It wasn’t like Finn had no fear. But for some reason, this temple didn’t strike him with the level of terror it should have because he had experienced something very similar back in his world.

The temple of Egon Callahan.

Everything about this temple also gave him a similar feeling, so though he was fearful, he felt more after ease than anyone. Perhaps even more than Vara herself.

Immediately he stepped through the doorway, into the black maw, right after her, the darkness vanished completely. He, along with Vara and everyone that stepped in right after him, now stood in a grand circular hall, bathed in soft, sourceless light that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. And they weren’t near the entrance anymore, they were at the exact center of the space, as if they’d been teleported dozens of meters inward in the span of a single step.

The hall was massive. The ceiling soared at least thirty meters overhead, supported by columns that appeared to be carved from single pieces of stone. The floor beneath their feet was polished till it was practically a mirror, reflecting their shocked faces back at them.

Besides the fact they been transported in one step to the center of the room, what truly grabbed all their attention were the massive corridors surrounding the hall.

Twenty-two of them. Exactly twenty-two, arranged in a perfect circle around the hall’s perimeter. Each corridor entrance was identical in size and shape, with tall archways wide enough for twenty people to walk abreast. And above each archway were inscriptions. Writings in a script Finn had never seen before, made up of characters that seemed to pulse with faint luminescence.

“Where are we…” someone started to ask, but the question died in the overwhelming silence of the hall.

Besides the grandeur and silence, Finn also noted another fact. The fog from outside could not reach in here, which also meant the terrible threat he’d felt from the fog was gone.

Hence, he made a decision and carefully activated his Error vision.

The world shifted as his perception expanded, green light flickering at the edges of his vision. Finally he could see the world as he was familiar with. Spotting flaws, instabilities, weaknesses in reality’s structure, to the limits of his abilities.

But this time… he saw nothing.

Not “nothing” in the sense of emptiness, but rather, “nothing” in the sense of absolute perfection. There were no flaws. No instabilities. No structural weaknesses or logical inconsistencies. The hall was flawless down to the molecular level, as if every possibility of error had been identified and corrected. The architecture, the stone, the very space itself… all of it was perfect.

It was the first time his Error vision had shown him absolutely nothing he could exploit.

Finn frowned, deactivating the ability. Whatever had built this place understood reality on a level that transcended anything he’d encountered.

“What kind of place is this?” A sailor’s voice broke the silence — one of the crew members who’d survived the forest, a younger man whose name Finn couldn’t recall. His tone was high-pitched, verging on hysterical. “How did we—we only took one step! One step and we’re—”

“Are you an idiot?” Vara’s voice cut through like a whip.

Everyone turned to look at her. She stood with her arms crossed, staring at the sailor with barely contained contempt.

“What kind of stupid question is that?” She continued, her tone harsh. “At this point, denying what you’re experiencing isn’t just cowardly, it’s extremely foolish. It’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long.”

The sailor opened his mouth to protest, but Vara wasn’t finished. Her gaze swept across the entire group, meeting each person’s eyes in turn.

“In case any of you have somehow created comfortable explanations for everything that’s happened,” she said, her voice level but firm, “I’m happy to tell you that you’re wrong. This is the supernatural. What we’re experiencing right now — every single thing you’ve seen so far, is most certainly supernatural. I’m tired of you reacting at every turn like you struggle to accept it. Accept it. Adapt. Or will end up dying.”

Silence followed her words. Several sailors looked away, unable to hold her gaze. Others nodded slowly, as if her bluntness had somehow helped them process what they were experiencing.

Vara turned away from them, her eyes scanning the twenty-two corridors. Then, without consulting anyone, without asking for input from Finn or the Blessed or even Slick Jones, she started walking toward the seventeenth corridor.

She moved with purpose, her stride confident, like she knew exactly where she was going. Within seconds, she’d crossed the distance and disappeared into the archway, swallowed by the darkness beyond.

The group stood in stunned silence, processing her sudden departure.

Several sailors immediately moved to sit down, slumping to their bottoms in relief as if Vara leaving had relieved them of some tension. They would wait here for her to come back. The hall felt safe. There were no threats here, no creatures or fog. Why would they risk putting themselves in more danger of “the supernatural” when they could simply wait?

Finn watched them settle, then turned his attention to the corridors. His mind worked through possibilities, analyzing Vara’s behavior.

She didn’t glance at him once before entering that corridor and neither did she consult with anyone. She didn’t even acknowledge the Blessed, whom she’d trusted implicitly during the entire voyage whenever supernatural knowledge was needed.

That suggested she’d known which corridor to choose. With certainty too, not educated guessing.

Which meant her great-grandfather’s records had included information about this temple. About these specific corridors. About which one led to… whatever he’d found here.

Finn’s jaw clenched as realization dawned on him. Was Vara playing them right now? He glanced at the surroundings, looking towards Slick Jones, Vara’s Sword.

The man looked forward stoically. But Finn could swear there was a tension to his shoulders. Like he was expecting something.

Was Vara about to use them as pawns at a greater play?

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