The Secrets Within These Four Walls [Plot/Event/Kina/Solo for Hyperion]

Leading the way through, his mind would take a glance, trying to decipher if the lock was destroyed from outside... or worse yet from within. Each of these barriers seemed to take a considerable amount of magic to open.

Eight understood the rhetoric, and would just trail behind her. As he put effort into his semses to be in tune with his surrounding at a higher level of perception. His efforts had not only created value for himself, but also the Kogata clan. Her endearment was genuine but telling if it was for unsavory reasons was another matter altogether.

Fumikos words actually stung him. His allies were in the floor above dealing with untold combat as he proceeded to raid the vault of its treasures. Could they still be called a group after he abandoned them? Regardless, the spider would take offense to the backhanded compli-sult. However, there was always room for growth. Perhaps she was right and he was only looking one step ahead.

"Me?"

The spider would listen to the end of her monologue instead of interrupting any further. "I've discarded faith and morals long ago, Fumiko. My eyes are wide open." He would pause and gesture exaggeratedly by pulling on the bags of his eyes to expose the bottom of his orbs, until the pale sapphire glow would force his reflexes.

Upon opening his eyes after the shock of the pulse of light. His body desired to return to the surface but the collection of his sins would drag him further down. The screaming would be the only noise that was of any indication of life. Eight would point into the distance to this vaults Yggdradsil, signaling to Fumiko, finally able to see her poker face being peeled away in layers, similar to his own.

Her composure regathered, Fumiko looked intently towards that towering Ashvattha in the blue-tinted distance. If he looked closely, Eight could see that the tree-like structure was rooted firmly within the walls of this Kinan underground sanctuary. Indeed, it seemed as though it was growing from the halls themselves, as if a graft placed within this Hinamoto vault for safe growth. In addition, there was the same blue glow about its metallic leaves that was reminiscent of the intrusive scenery of the nineteenth floor. What was this thing?

    ‘It was hidden beneath the Hinamoto palace this entire time?’ She whispered quietly, her voice betraying an excitement absent in her expression. ‘Ah, that Akihiko was less of a fool than I give him credit, if he hid this from us…’ As she walked down the steps, she raised an unusual object towards her ears, looking like the Kazeharu’s communications. ‘I can confirm that our intuition led us out of our sennichite.’ It seemed that she was contacting someone with her Origami Caller, but their voice was inaudible from where Eight was standing. ‘Ah, yes, it seems that I was correct after all,’ As she reached the bottom, she looked over the underground city and its sky-reaching tower. ‘It seems that the artifact was part of a larger one. Mmm, a structure called the Ame-no-Mihashira, if the Yamato should be believed.' She paused before turning towards Eight, handing him the Origami Caller, ‘It seems my associate would like to speak with you, boy. Hmm, I would not advise keeping him waiting lest you lose your job, little spider.

   ‘How is the diving-bell spider doing with his duties?’ The voice was a man’s one, smooth and buttery, like a fine red wine. ‘I hope that you are not considering your visit to the Orient as an excuse to slack off?' He sounded charismatic but surely dangerous, like a panther stalking his prey, unlike the opaque Fumiko. 'He has been quite a useful asset in this endeavour, so I would ask that you not worry…'

    ‘Remus.’

Nodding along to the words, vaguely understanding that the stalemate was over and they were about to come to a tsumi. Eight would descend into the hellscape alongside Fumiko.
At a certain point, he questioned if this tree was even organic from these supernatural environment and its metalloid, yet luminescent foliage.
"Ame-no-Mihashira?" This keyword finally provoked him to understand the situation. Before continuing to ask some questions, Fumiko would receive a caller on her origami caller. Unable to hear the beginning of the conversation, he was quickly invited to partake. The familiar voice of the man he had recently acquainted himself with came through.

Fumiko would respond before him. "I assure you things are going well on our front." Speaking in double meanings, as this deep dive into the vault was a success for him and Fumiko in regards to Kina, which was also a victory for the Black Spiders since slaves would be pouring in after establishing this relationship.

"Is there anything you require, Imperium?" A shortened term for the leader of the Black Spiders. Unsure as to the nature of this call, or exactly how deep Remus' hand was into these ventures. He glanced at Fumiko, with several questions for her as well.

A laugh came from the other end, sounding more threatening than anything else. ‘I have plans for widening the web, diving-bell, but I require nothing more than you are already doing.' If he listened closely, Eight could hear wine sloshing around a glass. ‘I am sure that you shall grant me something useful and amusing.’ He began sipping, long and slow, as if Remus had forgotten there was someone still there. ‘I say the same for you, black widow, but I have never been let down in all these years.’ He needed nothing else, so the channel was shut down with those words.

    ‘It seems that the sente has given orders for his pieces, boy.’ There was some irritation in her voice, disguised under her velvet tones, but she could not hide it entirely. ‘What say you? Shall we show him what surprises this game-board has in store?’ A smile came upon her red lips, twisted into something more like a grimace, switching between the two expressions as if she could not decide which she preferred. It seemed that she settled upon a smile, filled with menace, but she had reached the bottom of the staircase before deciding. As she approached the door into the next hallway, however, she turned towards Eight and her expression became the usual poker-face.

    ‘I must admit that I was sceptical when Remus said that he had his own agent in Kina, little spider, but you have proven yourself a useful asset.’ She may have assumed a blank expression, but her voice sounded warmer than her smile had ever looked. ‘I suppose that I understand his trust in you, despite your appearance. Mmm, yes, it is quite the surprise that a child could be so useful, I must say.’ A laugh came out from her red lips, sharp and genuine, but she reverted to her poker-face as soon as she noticed her mistake. ‘Ah, forgive me, I fear that I have been too blunt.’

    It was quite noticeable, however, that her poker-face was lifting slightly, but she tried to disguise that by opening the double-doored entrance. Inside the hallway, there was a long roll of tatami flooring that seemed to stretch for miles. Indeed, the next entrance was barely visible on the other end, melding with the bland and identical floor-patterns. Even the walls were covered with the same patterns, turning the hallway into a never-ending loop of wood and stripes. As she stepped into this mess, there was a brief silence which Fumiko broke with an monotonous question,

    ‘Tell me, boy, what are your opinions of the man Remus?' She did not look at him, but gazed about this Kinan rabbit-hole. ‘Are you joined with him through force or necessity? Do you believe in his ideals? Ah, is it that you desire the money and power?’ She looked him in the eyes, her interest in the mind-numbing scenery gone. 'Answer me this honestly and I will listen, not as a spider myself, but as a leader.'

    She laughed.

    ‘For I know not whether I shall be one tomorrow.’

The juvenile spider nodding to the words, slowly piecing together the relationship between Fumiko and Remus. Perhaps he and Fumiko were bound by the red, silk thread of fate. After handing over the Origami caller back to Fumiko, he believed it would be wise to get their information to be able to contact both of them personally in the future.

Eight was keenly aware of his position on the board, but his desire was to be beyond it. Perhaps if he were to secure something in this game, he'd be able to challenge for a spot to play.

For Fumiko to continually refer to him as a Little spider and child, a nearly three decade old slave, caused him to wonder just how old this Black Widow was, perhaps it was simply just this auntie letting loose. A plan of this magnitude would have taken years of hard effort and dedication, and she was at long last savoring the fruits of her labor.

As they travelled through the Kina-inspired aesthetic optical illusion, Fumiko began to speak to him. Her focus spotlighting the 'little' spider. He would infer that just as he was helping Fumiko ascend in Kina, perhaps she would be able to repay the favor in these ventures.

In times like these, he would normally revert to playing passively, but he felt that this was a time to advance his plans. "I don't believe in ideals, only myself. Remus happens to be the largest stepping stone I can climb." He paused as she spoke of money and power, "Does the shark not wish to eat?" Her last words prevent him from monologuing away, there was tension not only at this crossroad, but there would be more ahead in the aftermath should they even be successful.

As she listened closely, a smile twisted onto Fumiko’s lips. ‘Yes, what are ideals but restrictions on ambition.’ It was clear that she agreed with Eight entirely, since her smile would not stop growing. Indeed, like a snake emerging from the grass, she curled her lips into a scarlet line. If he had spoken wrong, who knows what poison might have passed from her mouth? He would never know, however, since she was pleased with his answer.

    ‘Ah, what am I after? Well, that is a good question, boy...’ She continued through the tatami-inspired landscape, silent but determined, resolving whether she should reveal her hand at this point. Her poker-face already down, she decided that she should show her royal flush, rather than pretend the game was still afoot.  ‘I do not want money or fame.' Her smile would widen as she observed Eight’s reaction, like a snake enjoying its prey.  ‘I want power, boy.’ She turned away from her companion, speaking towards the corridor more than Eight. ‘It is a dog-eat-dog world, is it not? Eat or be eaten, kill or be killed, those are the rules by which the world plays.’

    With the doors nearby, she stopped and turned back towards Eight. ‘See, I want to be a player. I want to be the person playing the game, not being played. I will use all cards that I have to ensure that I have that power, whether that be Remus or Kina itself. I will never be bound by the rules of tradition and morality again, as I have been doing for my entire life.’ She put one hand on the door, her face hidden and her voice monotonous. ‘I will make my own rules, ones that ensure I remain a player, even if my opponent shall be Kina.’

Once a pawn, having promoted himself numerous time and now being the vital king of his world, his ambitions also longed to be the player pulling the strings. The closest person Eight had related to in this manner was Julius, but had seemed as if he had different reasons for wanting to accomplish more, while his ideals were coinciding perfectly with Fumikos.

While he felt a bond, and could easily work with Fumiko, should they both accomplish their goals as allies, it only meant that they wpuld be sitting across from each other at the table.

"Well I only have the rumors I have obtained from the Kogata clan. It seems as if this vault has the key to rising beyond our stations. I assume we are after the heart of Kina... but exactly what is it?" He needed to prepare, the more he understood about what was going on, the better. With the double purpose of gauging Fumikos trust in the process.

A slight smile playing upon her lips, Fumiko gave a blunt but truthful response, ‘Mmm, yes, if we are working together, I should reveal one trump hidden within my hand at least. Indeed, you are correct that the objective here is the so-called heart of Kina. But I must admit, boy, even with the Kogata spy-network, information on this heart has been rather limited. I believed that giving our secrets to foreigners might provide a fresh perspective, but it was not enough. That is not to say that we came empty-handed, boy, far from it. Instead, it seems that the heart is part of a Hinamotoan legend which I believe holds some truth, but however much that is, I cannot say.’ She did not turn away, as she had before, but admitted this shortcoming with full honesty.

    ‘As for the legend, you may read this at your leisure. I found it in my own investigations here, so it may be new information to your ears.' She handed him another scroll from deep within her sleeves.

Torn Scroll:

    'Of course, that begs the question, does it not?' Her eyes glinting like a snake eyeing up her prey, she watched him read the scroll. 'What is the heart in this case, boy, the box or the flesh inside? I think neither, for the Hinamoto have never been one for simple answers. No, the legend must have some hidden truth, one that shall annoy and confound me. Mmm, as always, that family enjoys its games more than even me.'

    'But enough idle chatter, boy. We have kept this door closed for too long, and I can tell that you wish to see it open. Ah, yes, it is yours to open, boy. I shall not try, for it looks far too heavy for me to open myself.' As she watched him open it, unbeknownst to him, a new smile widened her blood-red lips.

---

However he managed it, as the doors rolled open, Eight would find himself within a new and twisted Kinan landscape. He was greeted with an impossible setting, finding tatami flooring which defied the laws of gravity as he knew them. There was an optical illusion made into reality unfolding before his eyes; lamps at ninety degrees, chairs above his head and stairs which went sideways. Far to his left, there was a blue sky with reddish clouds, but the horizon could be seen beneath his feet. If this was real, then something was wrong with reality.

    As he made his first steps into this Kinan wonderland, he would notice that Fumiko had disappeared herself. She had been with him at the door, but her presence had faded once he had stepped into this surreal landscape. Had she been purposefully separated from him, or had she wandered off alone? He could not know, but guess based on his intuition. In either case, Eight was left alone in this unknown place.

    At least, he might have thought he was alone. If he looked to his left, he could see a satchel on the ground, its contents spilling onto the tatami floor. Had it been there before? Eight could not be sure one way or another. If he checked the satchel, however, he would notice that the items were familiar, belonging to the reheaded Fanalis he had befriended on his Kogata missions. Whether he chose to take them, he would find a corridor had formed in front of him, leading him deeper into this bizarre wood-coloured scene. If he followed into the corridor, he might notice that there were rough drawings splattered onto the tatami panels. One looked like a horned demon. One looked like the priestly statue from the eighteenth floor. One looked like a figure dancing upon the roaring waves of some unnamed shoreline. As he walked along, Eight saw countless different drawings, some painted and others scratched into the wood itself. He was sure that they were each drawn in distinct styles, with different subjects, but they all painted a single picture. Fear. They were afraid. Of what, who knew. But Eight could tell from one glance that these artists had been very afraid.

    Before he could think further, however, the corridor broke apart and he was left standing upside-down on the ceiling-turned-floor. But standing there in front of him, looking worse for wear, was a familiar red-haired woman. Stood before him was Altan Bey.

You may take all of Altan's items from her satchel (provided that Riku agrees), but you must still transfer the items OOC after this thread.

The New Scenery:

Now Eight had one more piece to this massive puzzle. But clearly more stepping stones lied ahead and it had seemed all the information he would be able to get from Fumiko was tapped out, either from inability or unwillingness.

Receiving the battered scroll, looking to Fumiko's countenance for any signs of deception, but returning his gaze to the gift. The Yamato clan had come up with previous readings, that they seemed to be the originating clan that were the first shoguns, but eventually lost their power to the daimyo. 'Perhaps this was the source to their claim of divine ancestry.'

Fumiko would provide one last shred of insight into the mystery but even so, there wasn't enough information for him to put together the pieces. He would have to continue onward. Perhaps it would even be best to stumble into the treasure more so than wasting more time trying to solve it.

Eight didn't question Fumiko and the comment of he strength for surely someone of her caliber would be able to handle this. 'Trap?' Thinking this as her excuse to be her canary in these toxic tunnels.

---

This is when things began to go awry. To him, it has seemed as if he had stepped into the gate of a dungeon, to a faraway land with its own rules. The architecture seemed to be an optical illusion, but not necessarily magical in nature.

With Fumiko now missing, it had only doubled his doubt in the black widow. However, in this environment, anything was possible and they could have been separated at the threshold. His eyes could make out a satchel of belongings, perhaps a soul who had passed through and was killed.

He would pick up the goods, only to notice they had belonged to the new Fanalis acquaintance of his. Bringing them with him, he began to wonder if Altan had made it through this path before him. He couldn't discount the strength of the fanalis, nor Altan's motivation.

Admiring the paintings, he could see the emotion in each brush stroke, manifesting in different ways, but there was an odd similarity between all of them, it was as if they were painting fear, but for some reason he could identify with each piece of art. Not in an empathetic way, but as if these were abstract embodiments of himself. This was where he belonged.

---

Standing upside down, still trying to maintain his mental fortitude as he tried to block out the visual complexities, he sees the familiar face. He lifts the satchel to eyeline. "Looking for this?" He wondered how Altan got here before him, but there were more important things to handle.

She had awoken a few moments before, covered with sweat and debris. It was quite the surprise that she was alive, if she was honest. She had not expected to escape the collapsing vault at all. With the ceiling falling towards her, she had made peace with herself and accepted the end. She did not foresee that the floor would crumble as well, giving her a new start beneath the vault. But what was this place she had fallen into? She had wandered around its corridors, her head hurting with each twist and turn. It must have been designed as a maze of sorts, because she saw herself coming back to the same room repeatedly. She was not going anywhere, simply running in circles to the same spot.

    As soon as she realised that, however, it changed. She felt the entire place change beneath her feet, rooms rearranging and corridors reforming. Walking into the open, she found that the path ahead led somewhere new. At last, she was no longer trapped in that loop! she felt wary and anxious despite this, as if she could sense that something was wrong. Was she concerned that the space seemed to be changing in response to something else? She could not tell, because she was constantly distracted by the pain in her head. It was like a bell was smashing into her skull, stopping her from thinking, but she managed to fight through the pain. Staggering through the new corridor, she began looking at the odd paintings that dotted the walls. She could count eight of them on her fingers, each one scarier than the last. Wait, why does it feel like the number eight is important… Eight, eight, eight, what? Why do I keep thinking about that number?

    As she began frantically digging through her mind for any reason, the ground beneath her feet shifted and she fell flat on her face. Trying to get up again, however, she felt her limbs grow weak and her legs struggle to gain any foothold. The ringing in her head, breaking apart her skull, kept getting stronger and stronger until she could not hear anything else. She could not ignore the sound, but she used it to distract herself from the pain in her legs and push herself off the floor and onto her feet. No sooner than she had done that, she saw someone enter the room she had found herself in. She could not make out any details, but he looked quite familiar. His face was blurred somewhat, yet she could see that he had a short shape. Eight, right? Was this why she had felt eight was a familiar number? She must know this person! No, wait, I don’t understand this? Who is this man… Why does the name Eight keep popping up? I don’t know this person?! Huh… that’s not right… Why can’t I remember… Who am I?

    Then she remembered everything. She had not escaped from the collapsing vault. She had not been saved by the floor breaking. She had been buried under debris, starved of air and life. Legs crushed and lungs burdened, she had given up hope. But that means… Ah, I remember... Altan had died. Then who does that make me? If Altan was dead, who was this woman? Oh, that’s right…

    ”I see that you got my message, Eight!”

Approaching his ally, listening to her. 'Message?' She must have meant the goodies. "Yeah, I got it. Lemme get you a bit up to date. I got here down with Fumiko, but I lost her once I made it through the final gate to this dimension." He took another gaze at their surrounding trying to find a path forward, and looking at the area around where Altan could have possibly come from.

He could some redness on her face... possibly from a hit from a very hard and flat surface. This would be the perfect time to take care of Altan... but as much as he despised Fanalis and wanted to capture and use her... dealing with two issues at once would be too much for him.

Hyperion would pet the fanalis, and clutch at her hair, but his grip was just a bit tighter than what might seem normal. "I'm glad you're here. We are reaching the heart of Kina, whatever that means. How are things in the floors above?"

A smile came upon her lips, but a smile could not hide the wariness in her eyes. She did not understand, however, why she was filled with wariness. Was it the noise in her head, ringing like a bell, putting her on edge? No, perhaps it was aimed towards this man. She could feel that he was not a good man. “Oh, yes, I meant my satchel!” A sweatdrop slid down her face, staining the wood below. Why had she mentioned some message? She could not even understand how those words had come out of her mouth. It felt like her tongue had been working by itself, without her brain in the know. “I’m sorry, my head’s not in the right place. It’s been hurting quite badly since I woke up, so I can’t think too mu-”

    As the man came towards her, however, she could tell that her wariness was aimed towards him. She knew that he was not a good man. She was unable to react fast enough, however, when he seized ahold of her hair. “Oww! Oww, what are you doing, Eight?!” A grimace came onto her thin lips, as if she had broken some chains keeping her smiling. “Stop doing that, Eight! I don’t know what this heart is! Just stop this, you madman!” As she spoke, something changed within her voice, like a second radio track was playing on top. It sounded like there were two channels playing at the same time, one feminine and another guttural, resounding around the space.

    “I said to stop that." In one moment, the floor began retreating towards this woman, the walls bending into themselves and the furniture falling from the ceiling into the horizon below. The ceiling they were standing on fell upside-down, twisting and turning until the entire optical illusion folded upon itself, revealing a new sight. It was far from that Kinan wonderland, vast and airy, turning into a small chamber. Under their feet was the same wood, but the ceiling was high and the room dark. In the shadows, watching them both, sat a great many figures. Their features could not be made out in the gloom save their eyes, green and piercing, unceasing in their watch over these intruders. The only light was from a network of familiar blue wires, feeding into an unseen area behind a towering Buddha statue.

    Standing before it, however, was a woman with green eyes. She stood tall, released from Eight's grasp, and sneered at him, “It was only a matter of time before you showed your true colours, wasn't it, slaver."

The New Room:

Analyzing the entire situation with ice in his veins. The overlaid voice was different from Altan's, letting go of her as the room warped and shifted in case of any unseen predators. "A spider will wait until their prey is trapped." The slaver was alone, and couldn't see into the shadowy tops. Beginning to prowl around the room, stepping like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. However, he had been repositioning himself to get closer to the statue of the buddha.

Against Altan, Eight's stance would face to the side as his left arm swayed as he kept his front hand down, protecting himself as his right hand would pendulously swing the Demon Blade in circles behind him. Stopping once he lined his body between Altan and the Buddha. "Because of our memories together, I can offer you one chance at survival. Prostrate yourself bare before me, pledge your life to me and I will let you live the rest of your days in my servitude."

A fire had lit itself under her heart. She could feel it blazing strong, like wood for the stove, cooking her emotions into a frenzy. She could not remember ever having such a pain in her chest before, feeling hate and fear mixing into a heady cocktail. Is this what she thought of Eight? “Heh, you think that our memories together are any saving grace? This from a man who looked at me like I was meat? I cannot possibly think how the time I spent with you was anything good.” She could feel the fire burning stronger, singeing her heart, but she kept her voice steady and soft. “I was so happy that I had been accepted by someone, that I didn’t look and see who they were. Well, when I did look, I saw a man who can’t view anyone as anything but meat to be branded and sold. A man who I want nothing to do with anymore.” As her anger grew to a fever-pitch, she could feel something heavy appear within her hand. WIthout looking, she knew that this was something both dangerous and natural for her to carry, like she had held it a hundred times. Her grip tightening, she began lifting it higher and -

    “Mmm, I had certainly not expected the lioness to show us the way into her den. But a beast will always be captivated by prey, I suppose. It is just a beast’s nature, is it not, High Priest.” She turned around to see that Fumiko had emerged from the shadows, her eyes glinting with malice. “That’s not my name, hag.” She raised her golden sword, something familiar to Eight, against their newcomer. “Oh, do tell then, brat.”

    “I haven’t decided yet, and I have no need to rush. I’m not the High Priest anymore, but I’m not quite Altan either. It might take me some time to find out what I really am.” She was met with a sneer and sharp words from Fumiko’s mouth. “I have no time to waste on such banal pursuits as your identity, brat.” “Oh, you don’t care to hear how, well, all this happened?” “Why would I care for the reason why a relic like you found himself in a brat’s body?”

    “You misunderstand the relationship here, hag. I didn’t find myself in this body - instead, I am this body and everything she is and was. Come on, I’m sure such an intelligent woman like you could not resist solving this puzzle, right? What about you, slaver? I’m sure you have your own thoughts.” “Why would I play a game where the odds are stacked in your favour?” “No, no, they aren’t stacked in my favour. After all, you have all the pieces you need to fit this jigsaw together! Well, there’s also that one piece which you’ve kept hidden all this time, isn’t there?” “Mmm, and what could you possibly mean?”

    “Do you really think that you’re hiding that branch very well? I can see it sticking out of your sleeves, huh. Oh, wait, I got it! You don’t want to admit that you’re hiding that branch because, if you do, you have to explain everything about that lovely item and what it does. Oh, even better! You’ve used it on that slaver, haven’t you!” It was her turn to sneer, a triumphant look in her eyes, as she pointed towards Fumiko’s robes. “Are you as excited as me to find out what it is, Eight?”

Altans manner of speaking was peculiar from her norm. That Fanalis blood rearing its rebellious face. "Saving grace? You have only seen what you want to see. Just a stray lion cut off from her pack, of course all I see is meat for the taking. There will be no qualms over your death."

Only to be cut off further by Fumiko's reappearance. He would follow the banter between the two ladies, slowly understanding more and more. It had seemed as if the High Priest had merged his soul with Altan, sharing a single vessel.

Eight had always been certain that Fumiko was hiding more information. He understood what it meant to be a part of the Kogata clan when he decided to pledge himself and his allies to them. For them to have reached so far together, he knew he had made the right choice, and it was not the time to betray that alliance yet.

"Priest, you have tainted my prey, while Fumiko has been my sponsor for everything that has been accomplished here. It is easy to choose a side, regardless of a branch."

“Ugh, what a let-down…” With one swipe, the space began warping again and their positions moved. She was standing beside Fumiko, thrusting her hand inside her sleeve, before she swiped her sword once more. In less than a second, she was returned to her original position and held something new in her other hand. It looked like a steel-plated branch, but it was made from a number of wires coiled together. Indeed, if he looked around, Eight might notice that the blue wires around the vault were identical to these ones. In one second, however, she had disappeared again and appeared behind the rows of green-eyed monks. “Let’s see if you still trust her after I show you this, Eight!” She tapped the branch to a monk’s head, muttering a few words, “State your name!” He answered with robot-like precision, “My name is Yoshida Arakawa.” She began laughing, turning the branch on other monks, “Do you understand what this is?!” Her actions were followed with names of "Ushiwara Jigen!" and "Hokujou Kazuta!", as priests clapped and danced at her command. “Look at this power, slaver! Do you think that the hag has not used it? Oh, you wouldn’t care if it had been used, would you? Well, unless it was done on you yourself!”

    “How could we confirm that your branch has these powers? You could simply be moving these priests as your pawns! There is no reason that we should believe your claims, brat.” It seemed that Fumiko had broken from her guise of level-headedness, her eyes filled with rage. “Let’s play a game then, hag! I know that you were always fond of them, weren’t you? Oh, that reminds me. Do you remember who taught you how to play shogi?” She began laughing, something eerie that did not suit Altan's mouth. “Oh, yeah, it was me! Yes, yes, when you were in that abusive marriage, I would visit you and play a few games, isn’t that right? I’d give you a few hours away from that shitty man, wasting away the time with shogi.” As she mentioned her husband, a flush came upon Fumiko’s cheek. “But do you remember something else? You never won a single game against me.” With a grin, she threw the branch at Eight. “So why don’t you test Fumiko’s theory? If she’s right, then it won’t work at all. If she’s wrong, then you could ask her anything at all. Anything you want to know from her…”

The Mysterious Branch:

The Golden Sword:

Unfortunately, the scenario seemed almost as if this Priest-Altan hybrid had access to a sort of Space-time magic, as she teleported to take the branch from Fumiko, and then displaying the power. There was a definite similarity from the wires of this branch to the wires that seemed to permeate this space and the ones that connected to the Buddha.

The abilities of Priest Altan and the branch seemed extremely formidable, but he was also quick to realize that the names of these monks were the names of the artists who had not left this vault. They had slipped into this paradoxical space as well.

The spider held as many cards as he believed he would potentially get a hold of in this scenario so he would have to play his hand to the best of his ability. While they were busy referencing Shogi, a game that he had been learning during his time in Kina, here there were three players and he would make use of everything he could.

Hyperion debated on using the branch on his ally, but as a spider he was well aware that the female would easily turn on the male after mating. So instead of allowing such a betrayal, he would weave her into his own web by activing the magic tool, bringing it to her temple. "Fumiko, share your information." Hyperion would sustain the magic while giving her time to respond to see just what the truth was.

As he heard every single word, piecing together whatever information he could to his understanding of the situation. He would then continue with his final orders. "Attack the priest and become my slave."

As he decided his actions, the two onlookers waited with bated breath. One wore a frown upon her face, watching his moves, while the other stared at him like a hungry wolf. She seemed eager to see them tear each other apart, and she was not dissatisfied. Seeing him step forward, Fumiko sighed and bowed her head towards the magic tool. It seemed that she was prepared for this outcome, “I have much information which could help you, boy. I know that the High Priest pressed the Clans to introduce foreigners into the Kambutsu festival this year, whereas they prefer to stay away from such matters usually. I know that the Hinamoto are not knowledgeable of this floor’s existence, but the Morihana have collaborated with the High Priest somewhere they cannot be monitored - and I believe that this floor was their meeting-place. I know that Akihiko has a letter written from an acquaintance of yours which gives names of conspirators in recent events, including yours and mine. Is there anything else that you want to know, or do you wish to continue ordering me around, boy?”

    It seemed that she responded to the first order alone, neither the second nor the third having any effect. In any case, Fumiko would look at Eight with a smile not unlike the wide jaws of a snake. “I commend you for your choice in commands, boy. I was concerned that you would choose something terrible, but you have proven me wrong.” There were no smiles from the woman resembling Altan, who looked quite disappointed in him.  “I had thought the hag would’ve chosen a more interesting command, huh… It seems like you went for ‘don’t harm me’, ‘don’t order me around’, ‘don’t offend me’ or something to that effect, is that right?” She was greeted with a venomous smile from Fumiko, “I would advise you stop talking, priest, else I decide that I should act upon Eight’s command of my own volition.” “Ugh, stop calling me ‘priest’, for Il Illah’s sake. Fine, how about I make things easier. Call me...” She paused, twirling strands of red hair around her fingers, until a glint found its way into her green eyes. “Yes, that’s a good name. Call me Naran.”

    With the two women baring their fangs, it seemed that they might charge at one another, claws sharpened. As their haunches tensed, however, there was a new interruption in this Naraka, “It seems that you have been delayed, black widow. I have a strong dislike for delays, as you know, so tell me what has hindered your objective.” A grimace came upon Fumiko’s face, brief but terrible, before she backed down from her battle-ready stance against this Naran. “It is nothing, Remus. It has gone as predicted, with that person standing in our way.”  “I give you a name, and you call me ‘that person’? You have always been rude, Fumiko, but I feel somehow worse that you won’t even mention my name to that bastard. Well, after all - ” “Well met, Naran.” She fell silent, her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “I trust that you shall not keep my subordinates waiting? If you do so, I am afraid that you shall never have your wish granted.” For the first time, it looked as if she had been caught off-guard.  “Yes, it seems that your wish shall come to pass with our assistance. After all, we have been working towards such an outcome for many years. But enough, I have tarried for too long. If you have understood me, do not continue your foolishness.” With these words, the channel cut off and left the room in silence...

    ...and then a giggle was heard about the chamber. In the stands, a girlish laugh came from Naran as she stood there with a smile on her lips. One might have expected she would be enraged with Remus, treating her with such disrespect, but she did not seem to care. No, she seemed to have found something worth more than those insults. For she stood there, laughing like a girl who had been told her father had finally come home.

The players who were attending this event were now all organized and it had seemed as if there should be no more issues. "Since it seems the four of us are on the same side, lets work towards finding the heart. But I have several questions on my mind. Naran, you most of all, why have you chosen to invite us 'foreigners' for the Kambutsu Festival? Also, what did you meet with the Morihana about? Why are all these famous artists trapped here and finally, what is your wish Naran?" He had a vague idea of Remus goal, which had to include the spread and increase of Black rukh, so it was likely that Narans goal would have a similar purpose.

Hyperion was not sure if the magic had even worked on her, but it had seemed as if the first command could have possibly taken root in her mind, so he would need to ask a question as a Litmus test to make sure it was working"Fumiko, what are the details of your husbands death? Tell me everything you've brought with you. Also can you tell me about this space? Things don't seem to work as they would normally. Do you know where we have to go next?"

There were more questions in his head, but they were for Remus. However, such questions would be best reserved for a face to face meeting.

“We are not ‘on the same side’, slaver. But ugh, whatever, there’s no point in hiding my involvement in the Kambutsu festival. Yeah, I invited foreigners into Kina. I was interested in the potential of those outside Kina, that’s all. And, what do you know! Here comes the perfect vessel! I’m quite surprised that I was - well, she was - so perfect as my new vessel. After all, the process failed with…” Looking at the priests with their dead eyes, Naran’s eyes softened with pity - or even regret, “...everybody else.”

    “But that’s enough. I have nothing more to say, not to you. If you want to know, go ask Fumiko.” She scowled at Eight before turning away, provoking an exasperated sigh from Fumiko. “I know that I must answer your questions, boy, but know this:”

    “That man was pure scum.”

    “My parents sold me like I was some commodity, leaving me in a marriage of one-sided satisfaction...” Fumiko held a grimace upon her pale face, as if she were reliving the experience, but Naran resumed after seeing that pained expression. “She was beaten, abused, assaulted by her husband. She was treated worse than their household servants. I’m sure you understand her aversion to slavery now?” “It is alright. I can tell this story myself.” It looked like there was real gratitude in her eyes, but it faded soon after. “I met with the High Priest during this time. With each meeting, I grew to trust them. It was not long before I decided that I should make my move… So, with their help, I planned my husband’s death. No, that is too kind, I planned his murder.” She glanced towards Naran, but she had turned away from Fumiko and Eight, hiding her face from them both. “I am sure you experienced the High Priest’s magic. I asked them to transport me and him into that place, where we would remain unseen. I made my complaints there and, when he refused, I threatened to kill him. He was unimpressed, thinking that I would not dare. And so, I did.”

    “I think that has answered your question, boy. I do not wish to tell you more than you have asked. As for your second question, I can confirm that I have my pipe, rings, magical skeleton keys and modified magic communications device on my person. As for the others, I am afraid that I can only guess that this space is an extension of the High Priest’s magic.” As she finished speaking, Naran sighed as if she was babysitting some impatient children. “Ugh, isn’t it obvious? The exit’s this way....” She stepped down from the lines upon lines of black-robed priests, leading Eight and Fumiko behind the Buddha statue. If they followed, they would notice that the priests began falling into catatonic states as Naran disappeared from sight. As they tried keeping pace with her, the wires became denser and denser in the ensuing corridor, lighting the walls a bright blue. As they finally caught sight of Naran again, her silhouette was barely visible with all the light. If they followed further, the light would become almost blinding, searing their eyes, until…

    Eight found himself somewhere unusual. No, it was not some hellish landscape. No, it was not some twisted wonderland. It was just a dome-shaped room filled with blue twinkling lights. At its centre, however, was an unusual contraption. It looked like a bed filled with bluish liquid, connected to thousands of those strange-looking wires. They pulsed blue like veins, coalescing above the pool in artery-like tubes. Hanging from the ceiling were familiar-looking devices, hanging like grape-vines over a river. But he could recognise those at one glance, for they were dozens of devices identical to the one he held in his hand.

    “Hmm, I suppose introductions are in order.’ And standing behind that unusual bed-like contraption was Naran, leering at the newly-arrived Fumiko and Eight. “Welcome to the heart of Kina.”

The Heart of Kina:

Despite his attempt to take down the high priest not working, it still seemed as if luck was on his side since there was no aggression. Even if they weren't exactly on the same side, this qas just as good. Now it was time to decipher why Remus claimed they were on the same side. Hyperion would make the High Priest pay for stealing his prey, but this would have to wait until he figured a way to deal with this space magic... such advanced magic... perhaps he could learn it too?

But his mind would have to focus, to see if he could test the power of the branch by keeping track of Fumikos words. She qualified her actions by going into the details leading up to the mans murder, but she would admit it to him. Hyperiom could empathize with the leader of the Kogata. It had seemed that abuse always seemed to lead to resilient and more cunning people.

There was a sneaking suspicion that needed to be addressed.

But then Naran went on ahead to lead them past the back of the statue of Buddha, using the distance between themselves and Naran, Hyperion would take a moment to ask Fumiko one final question since he was more certain of the branch's efficacy. "Fumiko, why didn't the branch work?"

Regardless of the response or betrayal, Hyperion would swallow whatever words she may have stoicly and continue to the next room to see Naran.

"... The Heart of Kina..." Hyperion was even more impressed. He studied the dome structure, noticing the similarity to the wires and as they seemed to be like veins and arteries, which would eventually lead to this mechanical heart. But there were two more interesting things about this... the number of branches overhead just like the one that had the power to command others, but underneath was a bed...

"Oh now I understand, if you just wanted to fool around in private, you could have just said so, because I have no clue what else this could be for." Hyperiom signaled to this bed, looking to Naran to divulge its purpose.

“I thought that you had figured it out, boy. Ah, well, I shall tell you since we have neither been entirely courteous. I used that same branch on you earlier, instilling you with a certain directive. I think that it would be imprudent of me to reveal that directive, since you have revealed your lack of hesitation in placing your own upon me, but the High Priest was close enough.” Her poker-face raised again, since it seemed that Eight had nothing more to say, she followed him in Narana’ footsteps. As they neared the unusual room, Fumiko could not contain her surprise as she saw the devices hanging from the ceiling. Her brows raised, she simply looked around while Eight talked with Naran.

    “Ugh, very funny, slaver. I forget that you’re a child at heart. So cruel and vicious - and so damn immature. But, hey, why don’t you have a lie-down? I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with this ominous-looking liquid, eh? She rolled her eyes in exasperation, like she was talking to a young child. “Come on, Eight, you can do better than this. Think! If there’s a ‘bed’, then who was ‘sleeping’ here, hey?” She pointed towards wherever Eight was holding his scrolls, suggesting that he reread their contents, “I‘m sure you picked up some clues along the way, right? So think, cos I don’t want to reveal the answers for you. If you’re having difficulty then, I don’t know, have a look around this chamber!”

Notes:

Hyperion was relieved to have the mystery solved. He wasn't fond of her hypocrisy but he bore her no ill will for the betrayal by using the power of the branch on his mind. His disposition or his disposition towards a traitor was uniform, in fact his respect for the leader of the Kogata clan swelled.

Naran wasn't the most hospitable host, but at least they weren't in complete opposition of each other. It was evident that the High Priest was too busy enjoying roping the slaver around and wasn't going to be of much help.

Hyperion would recall every detail since he had been within Kina. Remembering the information bestowed upon him by the Kogata and his allies who joined the clan as well. Recollecting the collection of scrolls he had sifted through while within the vault of Kina on his way down. And it was at this moment that he thought of Altans goods, perhaps she had also gone through the some of the scrolls in the vault.

After taking some time to read through her scrolls, Hyperion noticed a keyword, branches just like the one that he had wielded. Rereading the scroll, a light would shine in his mind.

"Naran, does that mean thatvthe heart of kina is the spear known as the Ame-no-Nuhoku? And all these wores that have given birth to the wires and the branches are the Ame-no-Mihashira? But... what does the Ame-no-Nuhoku do?" He still had to piece together what the other scrolls meant, but he would investigate the room to mke sure he understood everything.

He would confirm the branches by looking up... only to realize there was a void, likely the space for this branch in particular. Eight would walk towards the bed, noticing the marks behind it, but finally taking a final walk around the room and discovered puddles of blue fluid... this fluid was reminiscent of the light glowing through the wires. There was definitely some connection.

“Ah, I have heard a little about the Ame-no-Nuhoku. It was the spear which the gods used to bring the Kinan islands from the seas. It has been the topic of many Kinan poetics, immortalised in song. In my opinion, however, a children’s story told again and again by nobles with nothing better to do.” As she spoke, a faint laugh came from Naran’s lips. “It might’ve been a children’s story, but it was not entirely fiction.” Turning around, Fumiko tried to keep her curiosity beneath that poker-face. “Yeah, it was a magical technology that once powered machines greater than the Kazeharu’s little toys.”

    She was grinning menacingly, twirling her hair with violent strokes, “You guessed it, including Kina itself. I say that, but I’m not entirely sure of the details myself. I do know that the Nagatacho estate was built atop one of those machines. It could be turned on or off with the Ame-no-Nuhoku, but I let someone borrow it.” She winced a little at those words, before pulling out a golden cube, “This is all that’s left on my end.”

    “We are in a stalemate then, are we not?” “Oh, already giving up? How boooring...” Naran leant over the fluid-filled bed, head in hands, and took the time for a little shut-eye. “You truly are a loathsome brat....” As Fumiko said that, Naran stuck out her tongue with a smirk.

Notes:

Some pieces of the puzzle were coming together, but he had to study more of the information available to him in this room. He was weary of the blue fluid that was spilling in the back room. Eight would start from the small puddle of the blue fluid. He looked overhead to see if there was some sort of leak, but after inspecting above, he would pay more attention to the trail. Perhaps trying to identify the pattern as footprints or drops, leading back to the bed. Upon the flat surface, nothing stood out to him but after inspecting the scratches a second time, then he began to realize that these scratches were all over the room, trying to see if it was more of a creature or a weapon than the scratches from human fingernails.