“What happened?” Vanessa asked, sitting up and bringing a mote of light to her hands. “Are you okay?”

“He blew his artifact up,” Cowl said, chuckling. “Good job, Seeker.”

“Stuff it,” Angel said, carefully trying to brush some of the ash free. It was no use. The intricate lines of Old World magic that had powered the artifact – whatever it might have been – were gone. He cursed, fighting off the overwhelming desire to punch the ground. “I’m fine, Vanessa. Thanks for asking.”

Angel irritably set the fried remains of his artifact on the ground beside him. For better or for worse, it was ruined. He wasn’t in the mood to do anything else. With a grumble, he laid down and rolled over, embracing the release of sleep.

Cowl woke Angel some time later. It wasn’t exactly morning, since there was no way to tell the time within the catacomb.

“Your watch,” Cowl said, walking over to his own sleeping bag and climbing inside of it. The Hunter turned over, facing his back towards Angel.

Angel pressed his lips together as he sat up and caught sight of the shameful remains of the artifact at his side. He shook his head and pulled his bag closer to him. The relic within it seemed to call out to him.

He glanced at Cowl again. The man’s chest rose and fell slowly, and Angel was pretty sure he was asleep. Slowly, he flipped the flap of the bag back and reached inside, shifting around within it until his fingers located the smooth wooden box.

Angel opened it partially, just enough for the dull red light of the relic to creep through. The urge to grab it and delve into its secrets surged through him, but he forced it down. After what had happened to the artifact, the mere thought of touching the cube filled him with dread.

Faint patterns danced across its luminescent surface, calling out for him to examine them. Angel licked his lips nervously. If he didn’t manage to get alone with the relic sometime soon, he was going to lose his mind. What was the point of having it if he couldn’t figure out what it did?

Angel closed the lid of the box with a silent snap. The time to examine the cube would come – and it would come soon. But it wasn’t today. Until he figured out how to control the Star Fragment, he wouldn’t be touching anything he cared about.

His watch passed peacefully. Angel counted out several hours before deciding that enough time had gone by. He woke Vanessa and Cowl, and the three of them ate a quick, rather depressing, breakfast.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be in here?” Vanessa asked, turning the artifact over in her hands.

“No way to know,” Angel replied. “Could be minutes, could be a week. Depends on how much we annoy the catacomb. If it thinks it’s got a good chance at stealing our stuff, we might never escape. Once we do enough damage and steal enough stuff, it’ll be begging us to leave.”

“So why haven’t we been destroying the walls?” Cowl asked.

“No point. If we had more firepower, we could inconvenience it. Unfortunately, I’m a bit low on canisters and Vanessa isn’t a fighter. We won’t be able to do enough damage to get any real results. All it cares about is magical artifacts, like the one Vanessa’s got in her hand. That was the catacomb’s, and now it’s ours. It’s not going to like that. If we keep it up, we might just get spit out.”

“Convenient,” Cowl said. “So we march onwards then?”

“We do. Carefully.”

They packed up their belongings and headed towards the single door at the far end of the room. As always, Angel spent a few moments examining it before he deemed it safe and slowly pushed it open.

Unsurprisingly, what greeted them was a long hallway that faded into darkness around a bend. They marched down it single file, with Angel taking the lead and Cowl at the back. A faint orb of magic in Angel’s hand provided them with just enough light to see the old, metal plated walls as they passed them by.

The air was stale and musty. The smell of rust hung low, sticking to their clothes and skin like a pestilent fog. As they continued deeper, the path sloped downwards, descending farther into the earth.

Angel lost track of the exact amount of time they’d been travelling, but it must have been at least twenty minutes. It was difficult to keep a good frame of reference when everything looked identical.

Their reprieve finally came in the form of a large cavern. Faint glowing moss illuminated it, revealing two rectangular steel doors that stood easily two stories in the air. They were unadorned, with no apparent way to open them at their height. The machinery in the walls looked far older than anything else they’d seen. It was almost completely rusted, and many of the massive gears had toppled to the ground and lay broken in pieces.

“Wow,” Vanessa whispered. “If I wasn’t worried about getting brutally murdered, this would be amazing.”

“Welcome to being a Seeker,” Angel whispered back.

They stopped at the edge of the hallway. The floor was covered with a thick layer of gravel and fallen stone. There was so much that he couldn’t see a single spot of the ground beneath it.

“I don’t like this,” Angel said, frowning. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a catacomb room in this level of disrepair.”

“What’s that mean?” Vanessa asked. “Is it being old bad?”

“Hard to say,” Angel said. “That’s the problem. Predictability is good. When I can’t see the floor at all and the room looks this shoddy, anything could happen. There might be Old World magic traps on the ground. There might be magic elsewhere that’s not functioning correctly, which either means it does nothing or explodes violently. All sorts of things, and none of them good.”

“So what do we do? We can’t go back,” Cowl said. “The only path is forward.”

“And forward I’ll go,” Angel said. “But the two of you aren’t ready for this. Not until I check it out.”

“You’re going to move on without us?” Cowl asked, cocking an eyebrow. “And what if there’s a monster?”

“I’ve fought monsters before,” Angel said. “But you haven’t dodged a dozen traps at the same time, have you?”

“I have not. Have you?”

“Well, no. But I’ve dodged five, which is more than most people. Just plant your metal ass on the ground and wait for me to get back. I’m sure the big strong hunter can do that,” Angel said. He turned to Vanessa and winked. “Keep an eye on him.”

He reached into his bag and tossed Vanessa a filled canister. “In case you need to use that band of yours. Don’t waste it, but if the time comes, don’t be frugal either. I know I said we need to avoid splitting up, but you two aren’t ready for this.”

Vanessa nodded, not looking particularly pleased about the situation. Angel turned and examined the room once more, plotting out his path. Then he raised his hand and shot the grappling hook out.

It whizzed through the air and buried itself in the ceiling. Angel swung forward, tucking his feet in and pulling the hook free as he reached the apogee of the swing before shooting it out once again.

Angel sailed across the room like a monkey in the jungle. When he reached the far side, he pulled the hook free one last time and thrust his right hand into the wall with all his might. The metal crumpled slightly, giving his fingers purchase on it.

He hung there for a moment, then shot the grappling hook into the wall and slowly rappelled down it. When he got a few feet above the floor, he started gently moving the rocks out of the way without actually setting foot on them.

It was with absolutely no surprise that Angel found a thick mesh of white Old World magic lines covering the floor. He grimaced, then spun midair to get a better look at the massive doors.

“What is it with catacombs and big ass doors, anyways?” Angel muttered to himself. “It’s not like people were giants back before the Great Wars. Bunch of egotistical pricks and their stupid doors.”

The door, an impassive hunk of metal, unsurprisingly gave no response to his insults. Worse, it was thick. Angel could barely see through the crack at the center. It was several feet deep. It wasn’t going to budge from any amount of force that he could produce.