Chapter 3 Part 1: Longer Exploration Prep
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Chapter 3 Part 1: Longer Exploration Prep
The garage gave them a place to slow down and think, and Ethan leaned against the familiar workbench while Abigail connected her phone to the laptop they’d used before, setting it beside the scattered notes and tools left over from the previous day. The transfer took longer than either of them expected, the progress bar creeping forward while the room settled into a quiet that felt earned rather than awkward.
When the first video finished copying, Ethan opened it without comment, and the dungeon entrance filled the screen: the crystalline frame glowing blue as its facets caught and bent the light, while the void at its center absorbed everything behind it, flat and depthless, refusing reflection. Even on the laptop display it was uncomfortable to look at, the darkness pulling the eye without giving it anything to rest on, and they stood there in silence as the footage played, watching it again without feeling the need to say anything yet.
After a few minutes, Ethan reached out and scrubbed the trackpad back and forth, pausing on the moment where the frame brightened in response to their proximity. He watched it twice more before speaking, his voice steady but distracted.
“It still bothers me,” he said. “The way it reacts. Not aggressively—just like it’s acknowledging we’re there.”
Abigail nodded, scrolling through her notes without looking up. “There seems to be a will behind the dungeon, so it probably is.” She stopped and tapped the screen when the inscription came back into view, letting the English translation sit there without embellishment. “Gates arise by unseen will.”
Ethan watched the words on the screen for a moment before exhaling. “It’s plural.”
Abigail nodded again, slower this time. “I still haven’t seen anything on social about another one like this.” She paused, eyes still on the screen. “So right now, all we’ve actually seen is this one.”
Ethan nodded slightly. “Then for now, we focus on this one and learn what we can from it.”
That was enough for the moment, and neither of them tried to stretch the thought any further. The inscription stayed on the screen, unchanged, but it no longer held their full attention. What it might mean beyond this dungeon could wait; there was still more than enough in front of them to deal with first.
They moved into planning naturally. Ethan began laying equipment out along the workbench, checking what they already owned rather than thinking about what else they could add. At the same time, Abigail pulled her notebook closer and started cross-checking what was on the table against the notes she’d taken earlier, marking things off as she went. Both shotguns were cleared and set aside, actions open and visible. Their handguns followed, familiar tools rather than dramatic ones. After a brief pause, Ethan retrieved the rifle and leaned it against the wall, deliberately out of the way. “I don’t think we’ll need it,” he said.
“But we don’t know what else is in there,” Abigail replied, and he nodded once, acknowledging the point without argument.
Ammo came next. Ethan stacked birdshot automatically, then stopped himself before counting further. “It works,” he said. “But it’s not something we should treat as unlimited.”
Abigail glanced at the ammo on the workbench and raised an eyebrow. “Cost?”
Ethan nodded, shifting the boxes as he answered. It wasn’t just that it would add up over time, though that mattered; birdshot was expendable, loud, and only useful as long as whatever they faced next behaved like what they’d already seen. He said as much without turning it into an argument, and Abigail didn’t push back.
They moved on to alternatives without drama. Hammers, a short sledge, a crowbar—tools they already owned and understood, picked up and weighed for balance rather than novelty. When Abigail brought up tasers, it wasn’t as a solution so much as another unknown to account for. They might do something, or they might do nothing at all, but neither of them could rule it out yet.
Ethan paused long enough to think it through before responding. He had no idea how a taser would interact with something like a slime, but not knowing wasn’t, by itself, a reason to ignore the option. Abigail nodded at that, the point landing easily, and said it the way she did when she wanted to make sure they were aligned. “We don’t know what we don’t know yet.”
The agreement didn’t need to be stated any more clearly than that, and they let the thought stand without circling it. From there, the conversation shifted toward how they would approach the next run, not in terms of goals so much as limits. Abigail floated the idea of checking the obelisk more often, if only to see whether anything changed as they moved deeper or spent more time inside, but Ethan shook his head and explained that every detour back meant lost ground and broken focus, and that whatever the obelisk showed them would still be there when they were done. Abigail considered that, then nodded, the logic landing once it was laid out that way. They talked through the rest just as plainly: they would go in once and stay in, focus on learning the layout and what they encountered rather than pushing deeper for its own sake, and back off if anything escalated beyond what they understood instead of forcing the issue and turning curiosity into risk.
By the time they were done, the plan felt solid in the way plans only did when they were honest about uncertainty.
They split tasks as the evening wore on. Ethan stayed in the garage, organizing what they already owned and loading their hiking backpacks with water, calorie bars, tools, and ammunition, distributing weight the way he would for a long day in the woods. Nothing about it was theatrical or tactical; it was familiar work adapted to an unfamiliar place.
Abigail shifted to the laptop on the workbench and handled the rest there, identifying the specific things they did not already have: helmets with mounting rails, compact cameras meant to be worn rather than carried, and lights designed to take abuse. She noted locations, checked availability, and stopped once the list was complete, leaving Ethan to stay focused on the gear in front of him.
By the time she closed the laptop, the plan for the morning was settled well enough, and there was nothing left to gain by stretching the evening any further. They went over the timing once, made sure they were aligned, and then split off without making a point of it, the work finished for the night.
At home, normal life asserted itself in small, unavoidable ways. Abigail answered messages, queued a post for Huntress, and made sure nothing was about to slip through the cracks just because her priorities had shifted overnight. It wasn’t denial so much as maintenance, a reminder that the rest of the world hadn’t paused to wait for them.
They met early the next morning and went straight to the stores she had flagged, sticking to the plan without lingering. The shopping was uneventful and deliberate, focused on filling the gaps they’d already identified rather than browsing for possibilities. They picked up two helmets with mounting rails, the hardware to go with them, and lights in enough quantity that losing one or two to wear, damage, or worse wouldn’t matter. Two action cameras followed, along with spare batteries and memory cards, and they finished by choosing walkie-talkies and compatible earbuds for simplicity rather than range.
They picked up more birdshot while they were there, then moved on to the tasers, buying two cartridge-based models and two reusable contact devices without debating which was better. Plenty of other things could be useful, but they didn’t know enough yet to spend on maybes.
Back in the garage, the second round of preparation felt heavier than the first. Cameras were mounted and adjusted, lights tested and repositioned until they were satisfied, and helmets fitted and refitted until neither of them felt the need to keep touching the straps. Comms were checked through ear protection until voices came through clearly enough to trust, and once everything had its place, it all went into the backpacks, nothing set aside to be left behind.
When they were done, Ethan shut the garage door and checked the ATV straps one last time. Abigail adjusted her helmet and briefly switched one of the lights on, watching the beam cut across the concrete before turning it off again.
They didn’t say much as they climbed on and started the engines. The engines came to life, the familiar sound spreading out as they pulled away, before they headed toward the trees and the place they had agreed to take seriously.
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they forgot glowsticks… modern explorers always carry 'em cuz flashlights can break/discharge, but chemistry always works
oh, and sidewalk chalk - to mark their path on walls/floor so they can backtrace in a hurry if necessary (tho i’ve seen folks drop glowsticks at each intersection too, to mark their path)
-D
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@dwarf said in Chapter 3 Part 1: Longer Exploration Prep:
they forgot glowsticks… modern explorers always carry 'em cuz flashlights can break/discharge, but chemistry always works
oh, and sidewalk chalk - to mark their path on walls/floor so they can backtrace in a hurry if necessary (tho i’ve seen folks drop glowsticks at each intersection too, to mark their path)
-D
I tried to limit the shopping to obvious things they needed to get that they did not have. I didn’t feel like making an exhaustive list.
As for glow sticks, i thought about them, but they can’t be used for exploring, not bright enough. great for marking the path. but single use items add up. That includes ammo which will be brought up in story.
