Ancient Mysteries

[Shulk]

Shulk's eyes shoot open as Finley snaps his fingers in front his face.

"Ah, um..." Shulk stammers. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I didn't say anything. Just... wondering what's held you up."

"Oh..."

It's another day at the Pilot Union Weapon Development Laboratory, and Shulk's been standing still for about half a minute now. The fluorescent lights above spew light onto him as he stares down the screwdriver in his hand. It's been a slow morning at the lab, so he'd decided to tinker with an old plasma pistol they had stashed in one of the old storage units they'd installed in the east wall. But before he knew it, Shulk was lost in thought.

"Are you feeling alright?" Finley asks.

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You've been tuning out a lot, lately."

"Sorry..."

Finley sighs with crossed arms. "Well... okay. Just keep doing your best, alright?"

"Okay."

With that, Finley walks back over to his side of the room, and places his hand on a weapon sat atop one of the counters- the scrap driver. "I took a look at your weapon, by the way."

"Oh, that's right! What did you think?"

"I like what I see, that's for sure. Offers good protection and can transition between attack and defense both easily and fluidly. You're quite clever, repurposing one of our old rifles into a melee sword-shield combo."

"The test we performed yesterday worked like a charm, as well. Reyn told me how well it performed against a live Zoid. I think it might be ready for mass production, soon!"

"Well, hold on now." Finley raises his palm toward Shulk. "I'll admit it's impressively ergonomic, given I can hold a massive weapon like this in two hands. But I'm not convinced even our strongest soldiers can wield it for longer periods of time. That's fairly important, if we're sending them out into the field as foot soldiers."

"Hmm, fair point..." Shulk puts a hand to his chin in contemplation. "Finley, would you mind if I went on an expedition for the day?"

Finley frowns- not a good sign. "What for?"

"Salvage, mainly. You know"

"I'm not certain that's necessary, Shulk. We may be running out of scrap on the regular, but we at least still have the materials reeled in from yesterday."

"Maybe not. But it would be a great opportunity to test the scrap driver for long-term use."

"Even so, you can test that here, can't you?

"But I've been meaning to explore the nearby ruins, lately, to research them and get new ideas for weapons or inventions. You know how valuable that information is to our findings! It'd be a great way to knock out three birds with one stone!"

"Useful as it is, it's a fair risk to take and, frankly, it's not our biggest priority right now. The Zoids have been unusually aggressive, lately. We really need you here to help me tinker and test. I mean, who knows when Markov will get assaulted again?"

Shulk's gaze falls to the floor, disheartened by Finley's words. "I understand..."

Finley's brown eyes look upward at the sky. His lips purse, as if chewing over an idea, and he says "Well... I do need some parts for a prototype rifle. I'll let you head out if you can get a bodyguard who can wield the scrap driver, and if you'll bring back what I need."

Shulk smiles. "Certainly! I know just who to ask."

 

[Shulk]

...

Fog flows in front of Shulk's vision as he steps over the vines stretching along an old dirt path, map in one hand and compass in the other. He places a hand on the concrete brutalist building beside him, its grey stone cold to the touch. There's a chill to the air, and as he looks overhead, through the pallid green canopy, he sees the sky blanketed in clouds. In the distance, whirring machinery can be heard, and the fuzzy songs of artificial birds fill the air. There's so much to this scene, both morose and serene, but in a word? Melancholy seemed most appropriate.

A loud thud echoes from behind him, and Shulk turns around as some of the nearby wildlife rustles through the grass. Reyn lays fallen chest-first, having tripped over a rock embedded in the ground.

"Oof..."

"Reyn, you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The big lug rubs his elbow as he gets off the dirt, picking the scrap driver up off the ground.

"Okay. Thanks again, for this."

"It's all good, man. I'm always down to help you with your inventions."

Shulk moves onward, coming to a set of stairs that lead downward. But before he moves on, Reyn speaks up.

"Hey, where are we going, again?"

"Nowhere in particular, really. I was hoping we'd wander a bit, explore some ruins, and find some scrap for Finley and I to use back at the lab."

"Sounds fine to me, as long as I get to try out this weapon some more!"

"I thought you'd like it! I made it based on-"

Before Shulk can finish his thought, he sees something moving around in the corner of his eye. He looks behind a confused Reyn, toward the rustling grass a few meters away.

"Based on what?"

"Hang on... Something's approaching."

He reaches over his shoulder and grasps a hilt sheathed on his back. In a single swift motion, he pulls out the sword- simple claymore of his own design. Its handle is crudely bolted onto the curved blade, and even its pommel looks like a nub broken off some larger machine.

Reyn's raised eyebrow lowers into a concerned battle face as he holds his shielded blade in front of him. The rustling continues, and grows more prominent as the creature comes closer. Yet it doesn't come out of the grass. Reyn walks a little closer, cautiously curious about what may lie within...

...and a large claw swipes at him, scratching the center of his shield as he jumps backward.

Out of the grass crawl two large hermit crabs, about waist-high with soft red carapaces, speckled white bumps dotted about their bodies. They aren't wearing shells, but large round pots from an ancient civilization with foliage sprouting out the top. Both of them have thick claws with pincers strong enough to break bone.

"Don't worry," Shulk assures, "it's just a pair of Pot Crabs."

And a territorial pair, at that, Shulk thinks. They don't look too happy to see us.

Shulk pulls his arm to the side and, with a shout, swings the junk sword across the two crabs. The blade scores along their claws as they hold them up to defend. Pain sears through their hands, and they lean backwards in a stagger. Shulk backs away in turn and maneuvers to the side of the crab on his right.

"Hey ugly!" Reyn shouts.

Big as the crabs are, he slams the edge of the shield into the side of the one closest to him, and knocks it over in the process. It doesn't take long to regain its footing as it swings a claw at him with great force as its body turns slow as a tank. It's no problem for Reyn; the scrap driver takes the blow with ease. With an opening made, he pushes the driver's blade down the crab's arm and into its soft body. He pulls the trigger on his guard, and the blade jolts forward, penetrating deeper into its vital organs. The creature squirms, before it ceases to move at all.

Meanwhile, Shulk fends off the crab on his tail with his ramshackle blade. He pushes it away, but it comes back at him with its six trunk-like legs, and he isn't able to get an attack in. It just keeps pinching at him, with no room to breathe.

"Reyn!"

"Got it!"

Suddenly, Shulk sees its tail jerk up into the air after Reyn gives it a hearty uppercut in the pot. He backs up, shaking his hand in mild pain. Such a disruption set the crab's sights on the bodyguard. Not making the same mistake its comrade did, the crab backs away in a three-point turn and comes at Reyn from the side, before pounding down on his shield. Each strike isn't much to him. He took the battery in stride.

"Now's your chance, Shulk!"

"Okay!"

With the pot crab distracted, Shulk slowly steps around it in a circle. Hermit crabs, like the krabbles back at home, have 360 degree vision thanks to their protruding eye stalks. Any sudden movements will alert it to Shulk's presence. However, that giant pot on its back is particularly large; he can hide behind it and sneak in a powerful blow! Just looking at the ornate ceramic design, Shulk knew he was going to regret breaking such a historical artifact. However, the expedition- and their safety- was more important.

He takes a step back, now about a meter and a half away. That's just enough to throw in a

"BACK SLASH!"

Eye stalks poke up over the rim of the pot's opening as Shulk's clunker-junker sword shatters the crab's makeshift shell into a million pieces. The soft metal cleaves right though its even softer carapace, and cuts all the way through to the ground beneath. Its claws swing upward in a bid for the heavens.

Then, as fast as it happened, it collapsed to the ground.

"Man, what a couple 'a jokers!" Reyn exclaims, leaning on his weapon like a countertop.

"Haha, you said it!" Shulk sheathes his blade, though the 'scabbard' is naught more than a couple of leather straps. "It's quite rare to come across biotic creatures, on Cevanti."

"Lucky find for us, then. I bet Fiora'll cook something tasty out of it, eh Shulk?"

"Definitely. Let's carve up as much as we can and store it for later."

...

 

[Shulk]

It didn't take very long for the two of them to carve up the fallen beasts. A couple minutes, maybe? They've got four gallon-full bags of crab meat, and they could've taken more if they didn't need the room for scrap metal. Thankfully, they aren't too far from Markov; Shulk and Reyn put their weapons down and work together to shove the rest of the crabs into the pots. The rest is left out for the local wildlife to take back. The duo will have to remember to let the Union know about it so they can turn it into rations.

With a sigh of relief, Shulk pats the backpack on the ground, now full of uncooked food. "That should help us get by for the next couple days."

"Hey Shulk," Reyn asks, "we're meant to get some parts, right? Is there really that much good stuff, just lying on the ground in the middle of some woods?"

"Well, you certainly wouldn't see it on Erde Nona..." Shulk put his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, trying to find the best words to explain himself. "But Cevanti is a post-apocalyptic world, with many fallen civilizations which were technologically advanced. Plus, most of the wildlife is mechanical in nature. So it makes sense that some of it would've scattered to the wind, if only from the deceased fauna. Er... as 'deceased' as machines can be, anyway. Regardless, something's bound to turn up, eventually."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Still..." Shulk looks at Reyn with determined eyes, the jewel blue of his irises glowing in the pale morning light. "The real plan is to explore the nearby ruins. It can be dangerous inside them, so we must be prepared for anything."

"If anyone or anything wants to pick a fight, we'll show 'em who's boss."

Reyn punches his hand, making a satisfying *SMACK* on impact. With the food gathering done, he picks up the scrap driver, currently jammed into the dirt like a stake. Slotting his right arm in between the handle and butt of what used to be a sniper rifle, he pulls it out of the ground with ease.

Shulk's brow furrows. "Hey, it's not too heavy, is it?"

"What, this thing? Well, it's a little big, and I'm not quite used to it. But it ain't all that."

"Are you sure you're not getting tired? At all?"

"Nah, man. If I get tired, I can carry it two-handed, easy-peasy!"

Shulk gives him a soft smile. Reyn's the kind of guy who'll tell it to you straight, and do it with a positive attitude.

"Okay! If it ever gets to be too much, so we can stop and take a break."

And with that, the duo head off down a set of stairs, venturing deeper into the woods. The markings in the concrete are something else. He's heard it described a number of ways, from "futuristic" to "ancient", from "simple" to "elegant". All these straight lines crossing each other at right or 45° angles create a satisfying grid pattern. It's endlessly fascinating, to Shulk's mind, how the intersection of nature and cityscape makes the world feel rich with history. A number of thoughts cross his mind, every time he walks out here.

What were the people like, who lived here? Did they have friends? Families? What did they do, to spend their time? How similar was this civilization to Markov, and how was it different?

And, most importantly,

What went wrong? Why did they become ruins in the first place?

Before long, the trees begin to clear, thin out, and the blue sky begins to peek through. Shulk picks up speed, and is now running toward the daylight with excited abandon. He can hear Reyn behind him, doing the same.

When he comes out of the woods, Shulk finds himself on the edge of a long cliff that stretches across the horizon to his left like a mesa. A sole Zoid is sitting over there, but it's thankfully too far away to notice the two wanderers. Buildings which scrape the sky lie far to his right, tilted askew of the land as their very foundations give way to shifting sediment and stone. A vast sea in front of him stretches on for as far as the eye can see. Just below the cliff are what look to be the ruins of modest neighborhoods, possibly even slums, the likes of which are beginning their eventual collapse into the waters.

Despite the scenery, it's a bright, sunny day, the sky itself an ocean full of puffy white clouds strolling along their merry way. Oh, how weather turns a society postmortem into a work of tragic beauty. Even in the worst of times, there's something valuable to be had. Even after death, life goes on.

This is Cevanti. The world of solemn survival.

It doesn't take long for Reyn to catch up, and when he does, he puts a hand to his hip and gives a short whistle. "It never gets old, no matter how many times I see it."

"Yeah," Shulk responds.

They stand there, for a time. Basking in the moment. Taking in the raw majesty of the scenery. In moments like these, Shulk is grateful he came to this planet, despite all the difficulty he's faced. Creating weapons is great, and he wouldn't want to give it up for the world... but it does get exhausting when it's all you do. The Zoids have been particularly aggressive, as of late, so he hasn't gotten as many chances to explore. It's good to finally get out, like he used to.



Except, this time... something curious happens.



"Huh?"

Shulk's hands brush against the bark of a tree as he walks along the cliff and to his right. His mouth, it's agape in awe, and his eyes are locked onto something that feels out of place.

"What is it?" Reyn inquires.

"This building... it's not like the others.

He steps forward carefully toward the odd structure. It has a elegant aesthetic to it, with more circles, more swirls, and a greenish-white color to its material that distinguish it from the surrounding environment. It points upward toward the sky like an obelisk, with a large crystal jutting out of the top.

Reyn crosses his arms. "This looks like something you'd see on Erde Nona. What's it doin' here?"

"It looks like... a ceremonial building?"

There is an odd apparatus in the front, with a glowing symbol hovering just above. Shulk's eyes naturally gravitate to it, and he finds himself walking toward it.

"Is this how you open it?"

He raises his hand forward, and places it on the symbol. In a flash, the symbol pulses and turns white. Shulk pulls his hand away quickly, unsure if he'd done something wrong. But, soon enough, the light shifts to a solid green, and fades to nothing.

"Biotic signature accepted."

Then, a rumble. The duo's eyes track the front of the building as the front slides down into the ground, revealing a dark passageway that leads down into the ground.

Reyn leans forward, trying to see deeper in, but it's just too dark to tell what's inside.

"I don't like the looks of this," he says. "Maybe we should head back."

Shulk doesn't say a word.

"...Shulk?"

What is this... feeling?

He takes one step forward.

There's something... odd about this place.

Then another.

Something... familiar.

And before he realizes, Shulk is walking inside of the bizarre ruins.

"H-hey, wait up!"

Reyn stumbles behind him, trying to catch up, as the echoes of the world beyond get left behind.

 

[Shulk]

Darkness envelops Shulk as he passes through the corridor, his leather boots clomping against the metallic floor. No, it doesn't matter. The world around him, the ruins, the mysteries, they don't matter. Nothing else matters except this feeling, this urge, to go down this hall and find what lay at the end.

Suddenly, he feels a tug in his left arm.

Shulk snaps back to focus, and realizes where he's at. The sunlight streaming from the door behind them fades into a teal green light glowing from the ribbons of ether flowing through the walls. Pillars of angular metal support the structure from within, and ominous abstract statues tower over him like gods looking down at their lowly creation.

"What...?"

He turns his head slightly, but he doesn't really need to see who it is. It's just Reyn, grabbing his attention.

"You alright, man? It's not like you to walk into an unknown ruin just like that. What if something tried to attack us?"

Shulk's gaze falls to the floor. "It's nothing. I just... have a feeling, is all."

"A feeling?"

"Y-yeah..."

Reyn gives him a concerned gaze, brow arched, but soon lets up with a subtle shrug. "Alright then. If you trust your gut, then so do I."

"You're right, though. It could be dangerous. Let's keep an eye out, just in case."

"Roger that."

With that, Reyn walks on ahead of Shulk, further down the corridor toward a room at the end.

This place... I can't shake the feeling that I've been here before... But how? I've never seen ruins like this before, even back home. So then... why does it feel so... familiar...?

Shulk picks up the pace, catching up to Reyn.

And... why do I feel like this is where I need to be, right now?

...

Before long, the duo had reached a dead end- a large octagonal chamber of sorts, comprised of an island in the center that's separated from the walls by an empty moat. Up along the top of the walls are seven rectangular grates, all closed up and withholding whatever contents lay behind their maws. In the center sits a large metal casing with a glowing terminal at the center. Shulk walks up to the machine, and the moment he comes close to it, a series of symbols materialize into thin air, projecting out as holographs.

These symbols... they're strange. They aren't the letters used in the universal language of the Crossroads. No, these are more naturalistic, as if painted with the types of brushes used by an oriental culture on Erde Nona.

Reyn pokes his head over his friend's shoulder. What's it doing, Shulk?"

"I'm not sure."

His finger moves to tap one of the symbols, and it transforms into a different one on contact. They're not just images- they're inputs.

"Oh!" Shulk exclaims. "I think it's asking for a code."

"Know what it is?"

"No, I've never seen these symbols before."

"Same here." Reyn looks around the room impatiently, hands on his hips as he idles about. "I don't see anything else we can do, either."

"No, I don't think there is, unfortunately."

"Well that's great. Come all the way in here just to find a locked box. Guess we'll just have to go back, then."

Shulk stands in place for a time, tapping away at the symbols, as Reyn walks toward the exit. It didn't help him understand these icons at all, but something compelled him to keep trying. Perhaps it was just that satisfying to use? This terminal was exquisite technology, and just messing about with a floating interface was almost magical. Plus, it would be very useful if he'd accidentally brute-forced the lock open that way.

Eventually, Reyn realizes he's not being followed, and looks behind him toward the lone inventor messing about with his little widget.

"Oi, Shulk! Are we leaving, or what?"

And then, right there, as Reyn was asking him to leave, Shulk hit the leftmost input one too many times... and the symbol that came up made something click in his mind.

"Hold on," Shulk announces.

He taps the other two symbols over and over, until they're the same as the leftmost one.

An idea is forming in my mind. I'm not sure why... but it's worth a shot.

Unsure of which symbol could appear next, he taps the others one-by-one, gradually shifting them to the next one in the list. It wasn't that he suddenly knew what they meant, per se.

Second symbol in place.

But somewhere, in his mind, Shulk could tell the first symbol was in place. It looked like it needed to go there. It looked "right". So then, perhaps the others were also like that?

And as the third was set, all three of them looked "right" to Shulk. He steps back, and observes the code he'd put into the terminal.

モナド

His head jerks up as he hears a clanging in the walls. In an instant, the grates above swing open, verdant ether cascading down in solid streams. The moat surrounding Shulk fills with pure energy, and the room is bathed in a chartreuse glow. Light crawls up the sides of the casing in the center. It cracks open like an egg, mist billowing forth from within, and the sides of its shell slide down into the floor.

Shulk finds his breath stolen away in that moment.

Left in its wake is a mysterious piece of technology- a red blade charged with pulsating lights of blue ether. In its center is an empty circular space, and it is hoisted onto a pedestal made specifically for it. Shulk walks close and places his hand on it.

"Woah..." Reyn walks up behind Shulk, looking from afar. "You opened it! How did you manage that?"

"I don’t know. It just... came to me."

Thoughts rush to Shulk’s head all at once. This blade, this room, this building, they were all teeming with possibilities about the history of Cevanti!

What was this used for? It can't cut. The edge is dull enough you could use it to bludgeon someone. Perhaps it's a ceremonial item? It would certainly match the grandeur of this room, or even the building as a whole. I can only imagine the history behind this location...

Shulk goes to grab the mysterious blade off its pedestal, wrapping his hand around the handle and holding it gently with both hands. The metal gleams with a greenish grey vibrance, its form elegant and refined. Every groove carved into it felt perfectly placed, like an ancient sculpture of an alien steel. It feels exquisite to hold, almost as if it were made for his hands. No, it's the other way round; it's as if his hands were made to hold this specific weapon.

"Mo... na... do..."

Faster than he can react, the blade begins to whirr and hum. Ether within cycles faster, faster, faster still, swirling like a maelstrom around the hole in the center. As the energy moves faster, it feathers out, almost escaping the tempered glass withholding it in its tubes. Without warning, it splits open, two halves extending out by hinges attached to the center of the blade. A long beam shoots forth from within, its cyan glow complimenting a lone symbol which manifests within the center of the blade:

機

"A-Aagh, AAGH!"

Shulk jerks forward, then falls to the ground with one knee. Pain shoots through his nervous system in bursts, then waves, crashing against him with the force of the ocean. Tremors in his fingers threaten to drop the malicious artifact in his grasp, yet he's unable to let go. Every part of him hurts. It's an electric feeling, as if live wire is threaded raw into his entire nervous system.

Reyn steps toward his friend, holding a hand out to help but not really knowing how.

"Shulk! What's going on?!"

Quick as it started, the agony fades away into a dizzying numbness over both body and mind. His eyes, they fill with blue, clouding his sight, hurling him out from the present day, the now he'd come to know. His head, it's foggy, thoughts swirling into one another like mist on a rainy evening. The passage of time fades away. Seconds stretch on for minutes, and it seems like this will last forever...

...

Then the voices start to fill his head.

"Who are you, without that blade of yours?"

Images flash before his eyes, faster than he can react. A factory, or some other industrial complex? There will be a hulking machine holding a flash drive in its giant gloved hand. A wide smirk will stretch across its metal face as it plugs the thumbstick into the machine.

"They can't keep getting away with this!"

A suave gentleman will stand at blade-lock with an unknown assailant, his eyes filled with righteous indignation and the raw desire for vengeance.

"I've ruined everything..."

In a dimly lit room of geometric design, an ominous glow will envelop everyone inside. Shulk will hold this crimson blade in hand, electricity coursing through his veins. A red glow will permeate its blade, and his eyes will be overtaken by an unsettling symbol.

"You'll pay... for all the lives you've stolen!"

At the side of a large wall, something will break through in a massive explosion. A giant being will stomp into the battlefield, and rain havoc upon everyone and everything in its midst..

"All that you are has been rewritten in time."

A little wanderer in a feathered green hat will fall on the ground with a look of fear on their face. Their mouth grows wide, as if to shout as loud as a person can.

"Your entire world will bow to my whim!"

A mechanoid lion will tower over all in the walls of Markov, and thus bring its raised paw down onto some hapless soul. Shulk's head will jolt forward, belting out a bloodcurdling scream.

"NOOOOOO!"

...

Shulk comes to, wide-eyed and light-headed after the waking daydream he just saw. One hand clasps to his forehead to calm the onset of a headache. Panting, his lungs feel pressed flat for how winded he feels.

"Answer me, man!"

Reyn's hands are gripped onto Shulk's shoulders, as if ready to shake him out of his hallucinations. His normally jovial demeanor is replaced by forthcoming concern. Shulk looks him in the eyes, then slackens his focus again, thinking about what just happened.

"W-what... was that?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Did..." Shulk's brow lowers in confusion. "Reyn, did you... see something just now?"

"Well, a bright light sorta washed over you, and then you started convulsing in pain."

"Anything else?"

"Not a thing."

Shulk grunts, disappointed. So he didn't see it, after all... That vision...

"Did I miss something?" Reyn inquires.

"I'm not sure. I'm alright, though... I think. Let's just head back to Markov, and I'll tell you on the way."

Reyn gives him a skeptical look; clearly, he wasn’t sure Shulk had it in him to make that walk back. Regardless, though, he says in a sigh, “Sure thing. But tell me if you feel off, so we can get some rest."

Shulk glances down at the red blade in his hand. It's calm now, having reverted back to its original, closed state without him noticing. He holds it along the back edge of the blade, in case it would activate again were he to hold it at its handle.

"Definitely."