Sanctuary (San-shu-ari)
“No! Don’t you see? His agents have infiltrated the Association! They found a way to neutralize the effects of Travelers Decay. They even have a safe house code-named Sanctuary where they keep all manner of Outsiders! Look for it!”
Lost Number 54 (quote from, The Disciples of Discontent)
Sanctuary, sir,” he responded like an army recruit. “And finally. Please sign this non-disclosure agreement.” With his left hand, Ol'Barrow signed the papers. An act he had gotten quite used to these past couple of weeks. With three guards in total, Ol'Barrow boarded the elevator, which was large enough to fit an elephant. The roaring of metal bearings reverberated through the cage as the door was pulled shut and, with a loud thump, the lift started its descent. Meanwhile, the guards stood around him as if in formation, and all the way down, they did not utter a word. After another low droning sound of colliding steel, the lift came to a standstill, and the door was shoved aside. They entered a wide hall illuminated by several light bulbs. It was devoid of any splendor, just the white stained paint on the wall. The other end was sealed off by another guarded door, complemented by fortified pillboxes on either side. It made Ol'Barrow wonder if the national treasury was this heavily guarded. After the guide showed the guards his badge, they unlocked the gate. And as the door lifted, the interior beyond was slowly revealed, making Ol'Barrow gasp. Its well-lit interior was furnished, unlike anything he had ever seen. White marble floors with gold color inlays. Plain polished mahogany furniture with metallic trims. Anthracite and brown curtains and planters containing exotic ferns. It could have been the interior of some palace, and he wasn't allowed to comment on any of it. The central hub was a massive cylindrical space of a dozen or so stories high, each with its own walkabout accessible by an elevator and spiraling staircase. It made him forget he was underground. In the middle, surrounded by palm trees, was a massive dome, only accessible through a reinforced metal door. He had so many questions, but his escorts kept up the tempo so he could not dally. They went through another corridor, where the air was warmer and humid and, past another door, they entered what appeared to be a glass house. Above the massive lamps irradiated a finely arranged jungle complete with rope bridges, climbing walls, and other training equipment. It was similar in style to the glasshouse of Pendleton Park but smelled like a zoo. Passing the tropical foliage and trees, Ol'Barrow heard a rushing sound within the bushes. Ol'Barrow jumped back as a strange creature emerged from beneath the thick leaves dashing in the opposite direction with such speed he could barely keep track of the animal. It looked like a weird bird with something akin to a shield around its neck and needle-like quills on its back like a mohawk, crying like a calf as it ran off. “What was that?” “Please keep moving, sir.” the guide ordered politely. “All the creatures here are herbivores.” So many questions. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers. In front of a roped-off area sat a girl inside a wheelchair, which had a peacock-like backrest. She was observing a massive grazing animal with the head of a hornless bovine, the body of a bear, and the stance of a great ape. By wrapping its massive front talons around the trunk of the tree it used its weight to pull the leaves toward itself and tear the off with its big lips. Igraine sat there staring at the nine-foot furry animal as it brushed its elongated snout in between the leaves. The guards were keeping their distance as Ol'Barrow walked toward her. “Iggy?” Slowly, she turned her head toward him, revealing a polite old lady-like smile, and she raised her right hand slowly. Her left eye was covered up with a patch while her arm lay motionless on the railing. It was painful to see her like this, but at least she was alive. Ol'Barrow reached inside his bag. He smiled somewhat forcefully as he took out her beloved doll. A smile appeared on her face. “Anwin!” After he handed her the toy, Igraine straightened the doll's clothes and sat her down in her lap, postured like a little girl. Together, they observed the giant animal as it grazed without a care in the world. “Who is your friend?” asked Ol'Barrow. “They call him Nessie. He might be a descendant of this world's Giant Sloth, only domesticated by its former owners.” “Domesticated? This is a pack animal?” “Oui. We used to ride him. He really liked that,” she said nostalgically. “Before he was brought here, he used to travel to other planes as well.” “Is that the creature we saw in the tent? In the drawings, I mean.” “This beast of burden is older than most humans. He might have seen more of the Multiverse than any person alive. Now he is just old.” “He doesn't seem to mind. It sounds like he had a long, fulfilling life... That is the best any of us can hope for.” “I suppose he has.” “So,” Ol'Barrow was looking for the right phrase. The right question. How are you? What have you been doing? All of these seemed obvious and not productive at all. Then Igraine broke his chain of thought. “I want to say goodbye.” A lump was forming inside his throat. “Uhm... Where will you be going? Are you going home?” he asked hopefully. “Non ...” she whispered. “I might not return from the journey. That's why I wanted to say - goodbye.” Unexpectedly, he had to fight back a tear. “But we might see each other again, right?” A forced a smile appeared on her face, and she nodded reassuringly. “Oui, maybe.” “In that case, I'll see you when I see you.” “And I am sorry.” “Sorry? About what?” “Everything.” He nodded. “I forgive you.” She smiled at him with a red eye. “I am really tired,” she said. “I'll see you again. And then we'll go to the fair together, alright? Let's make it a promise.” She nodded, trying not to appear insincere. “Alright...” she snorted. “Promise. But before you leave. I have one last request...”From The Wrench in the Machine
“How are you feeling?” asked a young woman. Blinking, Igraine lost her balance while sitting in place. She had just woken in an unknown location, and now both body and soul were processing the sudden whiplash, confused by something as simple as a tabletop against which she was leaning for balance. Her attention was drawn to a fresh sketch of a surrealistic cityscape inhabited by featureless people. It was hers. And next to her drawing sat Anwin, reclining against a fruit bowl. Regaining her posture, Igraine looked up at the well-lit interior of a building with many stories. Each with its own walkabout accessible by an elevator and spiraling staircase. White marble floors with brass inlays. Plain polished mahogany furniture with metallic trims. Anthracite and brown curtains and similarly styled planters with large-leaved plants. It all came back to her now. This was Sanctuary’s common area on the ground floor. There was a dome at its center containing the Pendleton Array that was keeping all the residents from succumbing to traveler’s decay. This subterranean palace had been her home for the past few years, during which time she had been sitting at this very table. “Iggy?” said a young woman sitting beside her, watching how Igraine clutched the table to maintain her balance. “Amber?” Igraine responded, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Amber smiled, relieved. “Oh, good! I thought you were having a fit again!” “Oh, lord. No. It’s been nearly a year.” “So…” Amber hesitated. “You’re really cured then?” Massaging her sprained fingers, Igraine glanced at her palm marked with the faded tattoo of two opposing triangles. Once the source of her pride and heritage, the emblem was nothing but a shameful memory. Amber looked at the drawing in front of Igraine and turned it with her finger to have a better look of the featureless human shapes walking among the curved shadows cast by the equally crooked buildings. “What’s it like?” Amber asked. “Excuse me?” “Travelers decay, I mean,” Amber clarified. “Oh…” Igraine considered it. “It's like reality is falling apart. You’d think it would feel like the other way around, but everything looked like it was turning to dust. And…” “And what?” “Like… The world was referring back to a state before there was any life.” “Like, before the Garden of Eden?” Igraine turned her eyes away for a moment. “Yeah… Something like that.” She got up. “I need to stretch my legs for a moment.” “Oh, sure.” Looking about the gallery, nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Igraine. No unfamiliar faces or weird smells. Amber gazed up. “Oh, look. An archaeopteryx escaped the terrarium again.” “Again?” Igraine sighed as she observed the proto-bird gliding past the massive chandelier before landing in one of the trees. Oui, everything seemed normal. On the other side of the hall, a door burst open. “Archy?” Cried a balding gentleman dressed in what looked like a beekeeper's outfit. He was clenching a landing net as he looked about himself in distress. “You mean the bird?” asked Amber, pointing at the dinosaur who was sticking his head out from between leaves. The animal hid inside the greenery as Dr. Rum looked up in dismay. “Oh, no. Archy, come down here!” A dignified voice cut through the ruckus. “Doctor Rum?” Amber clasped her hands together in the presence of Sanctuary’s butler: Mr. Butler. Igraine couldn’t blame her. Mr. Butler was a tall, handsome man that could easily model for a drama poster. Despite his stern eyes, he always had a smile on his lips. And how often did those strong arms hold Igraine when she had another fit? Igraine suspected that girls like Amber envied her for it. And he had done so while remaining calm while everyone else was running scared. That was just the kind of man Mr. Butler was. Mr. Butler took off his jacket and draped it around the back of a chair. And like that, he walked up the tree, and started to climb. Dr. Rum wanted to stop him. “Uhm… Is that a-” “Give me a moment, Doctor,” said the butler, already halfway up the trunk. And a moment later, he had grabbed Archy by the leg. “Please be care- No!” Dr. Rum froze as a screaming Archy came at him like a lawn dart. The girls couldn’t help but giggle as the poor Doctor was struggling with the dinosaur. Back on the ground, Mr. Butler dusted himself off. “I wish you would inform me of the holes in the greenhouse. Your animals are harassing my wards.” “I’m so sorry,” apologized Dr. Rum. “But they keep finding new ways.” Amber giddily whispered to Igraine. “Isn’t Mr. Butler amazing?” Igraine just sighed whilst being entertained by Dr. Rum’s ongoing fight with the bird in front of a disapproving Mr. Butler. Yep, everything was normal. But still… Igraine squinted her eye. The light. It suddenly became too bright for her.From Bound for the Styx
Inside the lobby’s elevator, Igraine waited for the door to shut. After checking to see if nobody could see her through the fence, she pressed a combination of numbers on the control console. She only learned about this feature recently herself, and where it would lead her. Well, she had a guess. Anwin, who just discovered the springs inside the mattress, was jumping up and down without a care in the world. “Don’t Anwin,” Igraine corrected her while reaching into the pram. She couldn’t help but feel envious of Anwin’s naivety as the doll has wrangling her hand like a cat. Her innocence. “I have to give you a toy to bring along, don’t I?” *Ping* With a gentle roar, the elevator door slid aside. Increasingly nervous, Igraine carted Anwin into the basement; a high-security level that might be one of the oldest parts of Sanctuary. At least, that was the assumption. All Igraine knew about it was that this section had been sealed off for decades, or even a century, for unspecified reasons. It had been rediscovered by accident some years ago. Now, it contained some of Sanctuary’s closely guarded secrets and occupants. As she walked beneath the brick undercroft, its antiquity became apparent. The ceiling had been reinforced with girders to which bundles of the wiring had been strapped giving her the impression this was a work in progress. At the bottom, the ancient walls stopped where the floor used to be, suggesting the floor had been hollowed out to create more headroom. In the back of the basement, in the yellow light of a lamp mounted above a vault door, Dr. Vermouth was awaiting her. Behind a barred-off reception desk, guards were sitting in the glow of television monitors displaying the entrance elevator to Sanctuary. “Ah, there you are,” said the doctor. “Oui,” Igraine said, awkwardly. “I brought Anwin as requested. Care to tell me what this is about, Doctor?” Vermouth leaned over the doll. “Hello, Anwin. You are a curious little thing, aren’t you?” She straightened herself. “I’ll explain inside, Associate,” she said to Igraine and turned to the guards. “Let us in, please?” One of them gave an affirming nod and walked up to a valve on the wall. A cringe-inducing buzz sounded through the basement as he started turning the valve that lifted the heavy door. The pram’s squeaky wheels reverberated through the brick corridor, as the women passed the gate. Anwin and Igraine observed the thick cables running trough the medieval halls adjacent to the vaults containing the Association’s most harbored secrets. It reminded Igraine of Hades in a way. Just cleaner. Igraine asked. “What is this place?” “I’m sure you heard the stories,” Vermouth replied. “I remember when it was discovered years ago. We were in the common area when we were suddenly told by Mr. Butler wearing a gas mask to return to our rooms when they discovered this place.” “Yes. It's an unknown chapter of Sanctuary’s history. Probably created by a precursor of the Association.” “Precursor?” “If this place shed any light on the Association’s history, I wasn’t informed. I imagine you of all people can imagine why the Chair prefers it that way.” “Je suppose. So, what’s behind these doors then?” “Some are still under investigation. Others have been repurposed.” “I see. I believe the point of the renovations was to make room for new facilities.” “Indeed,” grumbled Vermouth. They stopped in front of a reinforced double door. Scratches in the paint suggested there was a lot of traffic coming through. “I assume you have acquainted yourself with C-243, Associate?” Igraine glanced past her eyelids at Anwin who was looking around without a care in the world. “Oui…” “We want C-243 to meet Alpha so we can measure its reaction to her presence,” Vermouth declared. “We have failed to verbally communicate with the Construct. Therefore, we like to find other ways to provoke a reaction from the subject.” Igraine, squeezing her hands, sighed. “I see.” “Is there a problem?” “Non. Of course not. Why would there be, Doctor?” Meanwhile, Anwin was looking back and forth between the two. “Very well then. Time for Alpha to meet her maker.” “Excuse moi?” Vermouth looked to her side. “It’s a joke, Associate,” she assured her. Igraine rolled her eyes. “Oui. Of course.” A loud click reverberated through the hall as Dr. Vermouth unlocked the door. The smell of oil and brimstone emerged from the cell as the door was opened. From its interior sounded the buzzing of machinery and hissing of pistons as well as the crackling of welding tools. The Doctor gestured for her to enter. “After you.” Slowly, Igraine pushed the pram inside of the workshop while keeping a close eye on Anwin. Standing on her toes, the doll was peering over the side at the alien environment that resembled the scrapyards Igraine had seen in Arkology. But still, the Associate was astounded by the complicated array of cables, rails, and machinery cluttering the workshop. Among them were machines that couldn’t be operated by human hands. “What on Earth is this?” she whispered.From, Adventures in Responsible Doll Ownership
Document C16-2: Statement by Mr. Butler Mr. Butler has been a chief caretaker of Sanctuary’s occupants and the associated responsibilities regarding their accommodations, recreational facilities, and staff areas. In order to make room for new accommodations, Mr. Butler was overseeing work done in the basement when C-20 was unexpectedly unearthed. C-16/S-16 was one of the constructs contained within.
The following is an excerpt from his report on C-16’s discovery:
“ […] I [Mr. Butler] happened to be nearby when the construction workers discovered the secluded wing behind the wall. According to our research, there should have been nothing but bedrock, making me suspect we might have struck a mineshaft or tunnel that had been part of the medieval castle.
Fearful of gas, flooding, or collapse, I ordered a full evacuation of the basement and told the émigrés of Sanctuary to retreat to their quarters as a precautionary measure.
[…]
When the public areas had been cleared, I requested aid from present Associates to assist me in exploring the uncovered tunnels. Wearing minimal protective gear, I and 68 entered the revealed tunnel. Despite my rebreather, I could taste the staleness of the air. Still, we were surprised to discover how pristine the corridors had remained, including the gas lamps on the walls. Some even had oil inside, which we could light after all these decades. In the waking lamp light, we noticed office furniture covered in cobwebs and even mummified cadavers of vermin.
It was what one would expect of a turn-of-the-century casemate. A subterranean refuge with crude air shafts, small rooms, and storage spaces with withered foodstuffs as if they had been preparing for some calamity.
[…]
On the far end of a corridor, we came upon a reinforced door that was bolted, not locked. It took us some effort to force the rusted latches. As we were working, I noticed the reinforced walls. I thought it was ridiculous in a place like this. But we failed to realize they had not been concerned with anyone breaking in.
I clearly recall what happened when we opened that door. All we could see were two burning eyes observing us from the dark. I don’t recall what I said. “Bloody hell,” I think. But it was enough to anger what was waiting for us inside.
There was this eruption of loud hissing and creaking metal. Heavy chains rattled, and the tiles quaked beneath our feet as the red lights burning bright came at us. That thing would have smashed through its cage if it hadn’t been chained to the wall.
The cage thundered as it punched the flexible grating with its massive fists. Then, the monster spoke. It was French, so I barely understood a word of it. All I know is that it wasn’t very polite.” From S-16: Fallen Eagle
Sanctuary, sir,” he responded like an army recruit. “And finally. Please sign this non-disclosure agreement.” With his left hand, Ol'Barrow signed the papers. An act he had gotten quite used to these past couple of weeks. With three guards in total, Ol'Barrow boarded the elevator, which was large enough to fit an elephant. The roaring of metal bearings reverberated through the cage as the door was pulled shut and, with a loud thump, the lift started its descent. Meanwhile, the guards stood around him as if in formation, and all the way down, they did not utter a word. After another low droning sound of colliding steel, the lift came to a standstill, and the door was shoved aside. They entered a wide hall illuminated by several light bulbs. It was devoid of any splendor, just the white stained paint on the wall. The other end was sealed off by another guarded door, complemented by fortified pillboxes on either side. It made Ol'Barrow wonder if the national treasury was this heavily guarded. After the guide showed the guards his badge, they unlocked the gate. And as the door lifted, the interior beyond was slowly revealed, making Ol'Barrow gasp. Its well-lit interior was furnished, unlike anything he had ever seen. White marble floors with gold color inlays. Plain polished mahogany furniture with metallic trims. Anthracite and brown curtains and planters containing exotic ferns. It could have been the interior of some palace, and he wasn't allowed to comment on any of it. The central hub was a massive cylindrical space of a dozen or so stories high, each with its own walkabout accessible by an elevator and spiraling staircase. It made him forget he was underground. In the middle, surrounded by palm trees, was a massive dome, only accessible through a reinforced metal door. He had so many questions, but his escorts kept up the tempo so he could not dally. They went through another corridor, where the air was warmer and humid and, past another door, they entered what appeared to be a glass house. Above the massive lamps irradiated a finely arranged jungle complete with rope bridges, climbing walls, and other training equipment. It was similar in style to the glasshouse of Pendleton Park but smelled like a zoo. Passing the tropical foliage and trees, Ol'Barrow heard a rushing sound within the bushes. Ol'Barrow jumped back as a strange creature emerged from beneath the thick leaves dashing in the opposite direction with such speed he could barely keep track of the animal. It looked like a weird bird with something akin to a shield around its neck and needle-like quills on its back like a mohawk, crying like a calf as it ran off. “What was that?” “Please keep moving, sir.” the guide ordered politely. “All the creatures here are herbivores.” So many questions. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers. In front of a roped-off area sat a girl inside a wheelchair, which had a peacock-like backrest. She was observing a massive grazing animal with the head of a hornless bovine, the body of a bear, and the stance of a great ape. By wrapping its massive front talons around the trunk of the tree it used its weight to pull the leaves toward itself and tear the off with its big lips. Igraine sat there staring at the nine-foot furry animal as it brushed its elongated snout in between the leaves. The guards were keeping their distance as Ol'Barrow walked toward her. “Iggy?” Slowly, she turned her head toward him, revealing a polite old lady-like smile, and she raised her right hand slowly. Her left eye was covered up with a patch while her arm lay motionless on the railing. It was painful to see her like this, but at least she was alive. Ol'Barrow reached inside his bag. He smiled somewhat forcefully as he took out her beloved doll. A smile appeared on her face. “Anwin!” After he handed her the toy, Igraine straightened the doll's clothes and sat her down in her lap, postured like a little girl. Together, they observed the giant animal as it grazed without a care in the world. “Who is your friend?” asked Ol'Barrow. “They call him Nessie. He might be a descendant of this world's Giant Sloth, only domesticated by its former owners.” “Domesticated? This is a pack animal?” “Oui. We used to ride him. He really liked that,” she said nostalgically. “Before he was brought here, he used to travel to other planes as well.” “Is that the creature we saw in the tent? In the drawings, I mean.” “This beast of burden is older than most humans. He might have seen more of the Multiverse than any person alive. Now he is just old.” “He doesn't seem to mind. It sounds like he had a long, fulfilling life... That is the best any of us can hope for.” “I suppose he has.” “So,” Ol'Barrow was looking for the right phrase. The right question. How are you? What have you been doing? All of these seemed obvious and not productive at all. Then Igraine broke his chain of thought. “I want to say goodbye.” A lump was forming inside his throat. “Uhm... Where will you be going? Are you going home?” he asked hopefully. “Non ...” she whispered. “I might not return from the journey. That's why I wanted to say - goodbye.” Unexpectedly, he had to fight back a tear. “But we might see each other again, right?” A forced a smile appeared on her face, and she nodded reassuringly. “Oui, maybe.” “In that case, I'll see you when I see you.” “And I am sorry.” “Sorry? About what?” “Everything.” He nodded. “I forgive you.” She smiled at him with a red eye. “I am really tired,” she said. “I'll see you again. And then we'll go to the fair together, alright? Let's make it a promise.” She nodded, trying not to appear insincere. “Alright...” she snorted. “Promise. But before you leave. I have one last request...”
“How are you feeling?” asked a young woman. Blinking, Igraine lost her balance while sitting in place. She had just woken in an unknown location, and now both body and soul were processing the sudden whiplash, confused by something as simple as a tabletop against which she was leaning for balance. Her attention was drawn to a fresh sketch of a surrealistic cityscape inhabited by featureless people. It was hers. And next to her drawing sat Anwin, reclining against a fruit bowl. Regaining her posture, Igraine looked up at the well-lit interior of a building with many stories. Each with its own walkabout accessible by an elevator and spiraling staircase. White marble floors with brass inlays. Plain polished mahogany furniture with metallic trims. Anthracite and brown curtains and similarly styled planters with large-leaved plants. It all came back to her now. This was Sanctuary’s common area on the ground floor. There was a dome at its center containing the Pendleton Array that was keeping all the residents from succumbing to traveler’s decay. This subterranean palace had been her home for the past few years, during which time she had been sitting at this very table. “Iggy?” said a young woman sitting beside her, watching how Igraine clutched the table to maintain her balance. “Amber?” Igraine responded, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Amber smiled, relieved. “Oh, good! I thought you were having a fit again!” “Oh, lord. No. It’s been nearly a year.” “So…” Amber hesitated. “You’re really cured then?” Massaging her sprained fingers, Igraine glanced at her palm marked with the faded tattoo of two opposing triangles. Once the source of her pride and heritage, the emblem was nothing but a shameful memory. Amber looked at the drawing in front of Igraine and turned it with her finger to have a better look of the featureless human shapes walking among the curved shadows cast by the equally crooked buildings. “What’s it like?” Amber asked. “Excuse me?” “Travelers decay, I mean,” Amber clarified. “Oh…” Igraine considered it. “It's like reality is falling apart. You’d think it would feel like the other way around, but everything looked like it was turning to dust. And…” “And what?” “Like… The world was referring back to a state before there was any life.” “Like, before the Garden of Eden?” Igraine turned her eyes away for a moment. “Yeah… Something like that.” She got up. “I need to stretch my legs for a moment.” “Oh, sure.” Looking about the gallery, nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Igraine. No unfamiliar faces or weird smells. Amber gazed up. “Oh, look. An archaeopteryx escaped the terrarium again.” “Again?” Igraine sighed as she observed the proto-bird gliding past the massive chandelier before landing in one of the trees. Oui, everything seemed normal. On the other side of the hall, a door burst open. “Archy?” Cried a balding gentleman dressed in what looked like a beekeeper's outfit. He was clenching a landing net as he looked about himself in distress. “You mean the bird?” asked Amber, pointing at the dinosaur who was sticking his head out from between leaves. The animal hid inside the greenery as Dr. Rum looked up in dismay. “Oh, no. Archy, come down here!” A dignified voice cut through the ruckus. “Doctor Rum?” Amber clasped her hands together in the presence of Sanctuary’s butler: Mr. Butler. Igraine couldn’t blame her. Mr. Butler was a tall, handsome man that could easily model for a drama poster. Despite his stern eyes, he always had a smile on his lips. And how often did those strong arms hold Igraine when she had another fit? Igraine suspected that girls like Amber envied her for it. And he had done so while remaining calm while everyone else was running scared. That was just the kind of man Mr. Butler was. Mr. Butler took off his jacket and draped it around the back of a chair. And like that, he walked up the tree, and started to climb. Dr. Rum wanted to stop him. “Uhm… Is that a-” “Give me a moment, Doctor,” said the butler, already halfway up the trunk. And a moment later, he had grabbed Archy by the leg. “Please be care- No!” Dr. Rum froze as a screaming Archy came at him like a lawn dart. The girls couldn’t help but giggle as the poor Doctor was struggling with the dinosaur. Back on the ground, Mr. Butler dusted himself off. “I wish you would inform me of the holes in the greenhouse. Your animals are harassing my wards.” “I’m so sorry,” apologized Dr. Rum. “But they keep finding new ways.” Amber giddily whispered to Igraine. “Isn’t Mr. Butler amazing?” Igraine just sighed whilst being entertained by Dr. Rum’s ongoing fight with the bird in front of a disapproving Mr. Butler. Yep, everything was normal. But still… Igraine squinted her eye. The light. It suddenly became too bright for her.
Inside the lobby’s elevator, Igraine waited for the door to shut. After checking to see if nobody could see her through the fence, she pressed a combination of numbers on the control console. She only learned about this feature recently herself, and where it would lead her. Well, she had a guess. Anwin, who just discovered the springs inside the mattress, was jumping up and down without a care in the world. “Don’t Anwin,” Igraine corrected her while reaching into the pram. She couldn’t help but feel envious of Anwin’s naivety as the doll has wrangling her hand like a cat. Her innocence. “I have to give you a toy to bring along, don’t I?” *Ping* With a gentle roar, the elevator door slid aside. Increasingly nervous, Igraine carted Anwin into the basement; a high-security level that might be one of the oldest parts of Sanctuary. At least, that was the assumption. All Igraine knew about it was that this section had been sealed off for decades, or even a century, for unspecified reasons. It had been rediscovered by accident some years ago. Now, it contained some of Sanctuary’s closely guarded secrets and occupants. As she walked beneath the brick undercroft, its antiquity became apparent. The ceiling had been reinforced with girders to which bundles of the wiring had been strapped giving her the impression this was a work in progress. At the bottom, the ancient walls stopped where the floor used to be, suggesting the floor had been hollowed out to create more headroom. In the back of the basement, in the yellow light of a lamp mounted above a vault door, Dr. Vermouth was awaiting her. Behind a barred-off reception desk, guards were sitting in the glow of television monitors displaying the entrance elevator to Sanctuary. “Ah, there you are,” said the doctor. “Oui,” Igraine said, awkwardly. “I brought Anwin as requested. Care to tell me what this is about, Doctor?” Vermouth leaned over the doll. “Hello, Anwin. You are a curious little thing, aren’t you?” She straightened herself. “I’ll explain inside, Associate,” she said to Igraine and turned to the guards. “Let us in, please?” One of them gave an affirming nod and walked up to a valve on the wall. A cringe-inducing buzz sounded through the basement as he started turning the valve that lifted the heavy door. The pram’s squeaky wheels reverberated through the brick corridor, as the women passed the gate. Anwin and Igraine observed the thick cables running trough the medieval halls adjacent to the vaults containing the Association’s most harbored secrets. It reminded Igraine of Hades in a way. Just cleaner. Igraine asked. “What is this place?” “I’m sure you heard the stories,” Vermouth replied. “I remember when it was discovered years ago. We were in the common area when we were suddenly told by Mr. Butler wearing a gas mask to return to our rooms when they discovered this place.” “Yes. It's an unknown chapter of Sanctuary’s history. Probably created by a precursor of the Association.” “Precursor?” “If this place shed any light on the Association’s history, I wasn’t informed. I imagine you of all people can imagine why the Chair prefers it that way.” “Je suppose. So, what’s behind these doors then?” “Some are still under investigation. Others have been repurposed.” “I see. I believe the point of the renovations was to make room for new facilities.” “Indeed,” grumbled Vermouth. They stopped in front of a reinforced double door. Scratches in the paint suggested there was a lot of traffic coming through. “I assume you have acquainted yourself with C-243, Associate?” Igraine glanced past her eyelids at Anwin who was looking around without a care in the world. “Oui…” “We want C-243 to meet Alpha so we can measure its reaction to her presence,” Vermouth declared. “We have failed to verbally communicate with the Construct. Therefore, we like to find other ways to provoke a reaction from the subject.” Igraine, squeezing her hands, sighed. “I see.” “Is there a problem?” “Non. Of course not. Why would there be, Doctor?” Meanwhile, Anwin was looking back and forth between the two. “Very well then. Time for Alpha to meet her maker.” “Excuse moi?” Vermouth looked to her side. “It’s a joke, Associate,” she assured her. Igraine rolled her eyes. “Oui. Of course.” A loud click reverberated through the hall as Dr. Vermouth unlocked the door. The smell of oil and brimstone emerged from the cell as the door was opened. From its interior sounded the buzzing of machinery and hissing of pistons as well as the crackling of welding tools. The Doctor gestured for her to enter. “After you.” Slowly, Igraine pushed the pram inside of the workshop while keeping a close eye on Anwin. Standing on her toes, the doll was peering over the side at the alien environment that resembled the scrapyards Igraine had seen in Arkology. But still, the Associate was astounded by the complicated array of cables, rails, and machinery cluttering the workshop. Among them were machines that couldn’t be operated by human hands. “What on Earth is this?” she whispered.
Document C16-2: Statement by Mr. Butler Mr. Butler has been a chief caretaker of Sanctuary’s occupants and the associated responsibilities regarding their accommodations, recreational facilities, and staff areas. In order to make room for new accommodations, Mr. Butler was overseeing work done in the basement when C-20 was unexpectedly unearthed. C-16/S-16 was one of the constructs contained within.
The following is an excerpt from his report on C-16’s discovery:
“ […] I [Mr. Butler] happened to be nearby when the construction workers discovered the secluded wing behind the wall. According to our research, there should have been nothing but bedrock, making me suspect we might have struck a mineshaft or tunnel that had been part of the medieval castle.
Fearful of gas, flooding, or collapse, I ordered a full evacuation of the basement and told the émigrés of Sanctuary to retreat to their quarters as a precautionary measure.
[…]
When the public areas had been cleared, I requested aid from present Associates to assist me in exploring the uncovered tunnels. Wearing minimal protective gear, I and 68 entered the revealed tunnel. Despite my rebreather, I could taste the staleness of the air. Still, we were surprised to discover how pristine the corridors had remained, including the gas lamps on the walls. Some even had oil inside, which we could light after all these decades. In the waking lamp light, we noticed office furniture covered in cobwebs and even mummified cadavers of vermin.
It was what one would expect of a turn-of-the-century casemate. A subterranean refuge with crude air shafts, small rooms, and storage spaces with withered foodstuffs as if they had been preparing for some calamity.
[…]
On the far end of a corridor, we came upon a reinforced door that was bolted, not locked. It took us some effort to force the rusted latches. As we were working, I noticed the reinforced walls. I thought it was ridiculous in a place like this. But we failed to realize they had not been concerned with anyone breaking in.
I clearly recall what happened when we opened that door. All we could see were two burning eyes observing us from the dark. I don’t recall what I said. “Bloody hell,” I think. But it was enough to anger what was waiting for us inside.
There was this eruption of loud hissing and creaking metal. Heavy chains rattled, and the tiles quaked beneath our feet as the red lights burning bright came at us. That thing would have smashed through its cage if it hadn’t been chained to the wall.
The cage thundered as it punched the flexible grating with its massive fists. Then, the monster spoke. It was French, so I barely understood a word of it. All I know is that it wasn’t very polite.” From S-16: Fallen Eagle
Type
Arcology / Residential Complex
Parent Location
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