He had started practicing the emergency rescue techniques which he never found applicable in the waking world. Methodically mapping out the surroundings, planning for every contingency. The smoke and noise were terribly distracting, but like everything else in his life, he overcame it through a simple application of hard work. When he first found himself here it was hard to breathe. He had only mistimed that roll once and the end of that dream was swift enough that he barely found it disturbing – merged with the copper beneath his feet in less than the span of a breath. He has to take a moment to time to find the rhythm of the striking hammers before a well timed dive can carry him underneath the thunderous smash of a drop hammer the size of a bus – made for flattening a sheet of brass on a long assembly line, apparently. Shades of men and women below shaping metal by the thousands underneath his feet.
#CULTIST SIMULATOR THE WAY THE WHITE DOOR SERIES#
Not when he had somewhere he desperately needed to be.ĭown two hallways, decorated in the ever-present smoldering tapestries, which turn into a series of catwalks overlooking a factory floor. Not by now, not after having experienced it so many times. The scent of burning flesh joined the riot of his senses, but he found it difficult to care. The walkway had vanished at some point during his musing, and he found himself treading over the burning coals which spilled out of the furnaces all around him. The little gusts that escaped the piping scorched his eyes, and he had to look away from them to avoid permanently searing his eyes. His swift progress down the path passed through a vast sequence of bellows and the hot breath they pumped into the fires all around him. No use crying over it, though – just work harder. How could he ever afford to be out of it? It rankled him, to be without such a key component of his life. Plus, if a major call came in, being in armor cut down his response time by nearly a minute and a half. Even in his workshop – especially in his workshop – it was so convenient to have it on! So many tools long since built into it, tucked away in every crevasse. No soft tones and chimes of his hard work making itself useful only silence. Walking around without it felt like suddenly losing a limb to some disease the lack of weight on his shoulders, the absence of the life support systems, the monitoring and tabulating and calculating systems built in to maximize his time. “Recorder: Note to decrease dosage of stimulant A37 and substitute compound ZX9 to stimulate – wait, damn it.” If only he could figure out a way to mix the stimulants and get this kind of mental clarity when he was awake. It all felt so vivid! What a dream, this place. Smoke and acrid, esoteric scents invaded his lungs like barbarian hoards, right through his throat and nasal cavity, and yet the urge to cough never struck. Down he went, seeing the the pipe-formed walls and marveling at the bold, sunrise glare of furnaces all around. There was something he needed to do, but wouldn’t admit why.ĭown the many dark hallways he stared walking, then jogging, then sprinting running his hands over his face all the while, fingers prickling in the bristles of a well-trimmed beard while feeling the oil and sweat soaking into his skin. He let out a sigh and began to move down the long hall past the burnt tapestries of hammers and the many shaded figures lined up along the hall, toiling away at their anvils. Of course, it demanded a question: How do you wake up, but find yourself in a dream?
Yet, he was clearly in a dream at this very moment one that he could never recall when he returned to the land of the living. Was he waking up from sleep? He wondered from time to time about what made the most sense in this place – it always felt like he was waking from a long dream when he found himself here. The air howling and rattling through the pipes, hurricane strong, to feed the burning furnaces all around him.Ĭolin picked his head up, off of the warm anvil it had been resting on. The blistering heat and deafening clang of metal shaping metal.
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