Origin 6

The basement was dark, with no windows to let in any natural light. The only light came from a single bulb that flickered on the ceiling. The air was damp and musty, and the walls were covered in cobwebs. Marcel could feel his skin crawl as he stepped down the creaky wooden stairs, leading the children down with him.

Marcel's feelings for the man were flowing through him, he wondered who that man was. The aura that surrounded the man was the worst Marcel had ever felt, he was dangerous, and worst of all he had business with Mr. Watson.

That man's face was that which Marcel could never forget, the fear he had when he first met him and the dread that entered the house when he rang the doorbell, his sophisticated manner being all a ploy, and his devious smile.

As he walked down, his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. He could see that the basement was bigger than he had imagined. There were shelves lining the walls, and boxes stacked up high, almost touching the ceiling. In the center of the room was a table, with papers and books scattered all over it.

The kids sat themselves down, trying to console themselves by playing with toys they had grabbed from upstairs, the boy crying in the corner whimpering and mumbling words Marcel did not understand.

Marcel approached the table and looked down at the papers. They were filled with scribbled notes, and diagrams that Marcel couldn't understand. But what caught his attention was a thick, leather-bound book lying open on the table.

At first glance, the book seemed normal, but suddenly Marcel realized, he could read this strange language, he had never known of this ability and suddenly realized, whatever this language was, Marcel could understand it, like an extra piece of his heart.

Marcel hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should truly read it more. But then, he remembered the reason why Mr. Watson had entrusted him with the key to the basement. He needed to keep the children safe, and that was his top priority.

"Okay, everyone, stay close to me," Marcel said, his voice trembling slightly.

He led the children to a corner of the room, away from the table and the book. They huddled together, their eyes wide with curiosity and fear.

"Is it safe here?" the youngest girl asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marcel nodded, trying to sound confident.

"Yes, we'll be safe here. Mr. Watson will come back soon, and he'll tell us what to do next," Marcel said, his voice reassuring.

The children nodded, but Marcel could tell that they were still scared. He sat down on the floor, trying to make himself comfortable. He looked around the room, wondering what secrets it held.

As Marcel walked around, curiosity overtaking him he looked down and noticed that he was standing on a strange symbol that had been drawn on the ground. The symbol was made up of intricate lines and curves, and it seemed to glow with a faint blue light.

Marcel's heart raced as he realized that this symbol was connected to the book that Mr. Watson had been hiding. He had heard stories about ancient symbols and their powers, but he had never seen one before.

Suddenly, Marcel felt a surge of energy coursing through his body, and he stumbled backward. He looked downwards and it looked like he stepped on a systemo rune, in the dialogue he could not read yet, and stone was carved. Slowly the blue light was evaporating from the rune and started to enter Marcel's body.

The eldest girl noticed Marcel's distress and quickly stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Marcel, what's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

Marcel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I don't know...I think the symbol is...doing something to me," he said, his voice shaky.

The other children huddled closer, their eyes wide with fear.

Suddenly, Marcel's body jerked forward, and he let out a cry of pain. The blue glow from the symbol grew brighter, and the air crackled with energy.

The eldest girl quickly grabbed Marcel's hand, trying to pull him away from the symbol. But her efforts were in vain, as Marcel's body was completely immobilized.

As the energy intensified, Marcel's mind was flooded with images and memories. He saw glimpses of ancient civilizations, long-forgotten languages, and powerful magical spells.

He heard a voice calling out to him, a voice that seemed to be coming from this dream-like world. Where comets floated in the sky, Marcel was suddenly standing in a world that was dark with a blueish hue. Mountains floating in the sky and beautiful land emanated amazing energy.

Marcel looked at his clothes, his clothes were long and dirty, soaking into the puddle and his bones had suddenly shrunk down and he felt malnourished.

"Baby," A woman said.

Suddenly Marcel's heart rate went up. He looked around him, for a woman with a soothing voice as that. The tears in his eyes started to explode outwards as he examine the blue setting around him.

"Marcel...you have been chosen," the voice said, echoing through his mind.

Marcel tried to resist the voice, but he was powerless against its hypnotic pull. He pulled himself closer to the elongated mirror in front of him, where the voice was coming from. He realized this mirror was being used for communication.

"Chosen for what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

the voice replied with only a few words. "Go down below."

Marcel's eyes widened as he realized the magnitude of the task that had been placed upon him.

"But...how?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"You will know what to do. the voice said, before fading away.

The voice was soft and beautiful, and wherever Marcel was, this blue land of water and a mirror were in front of him. It felt familiar, it was as if it was a dream world, why Marcel could not remember this place was confusing, but it seemed true inside he did know.

Marcel looked around this land, the only thing familiar was the voice of the woman and the starry night sky with comets flying through.

Marcel felt the energy slowly dissipating, and he stumbled back, his body trembling with exhaustion. The eldest girl rushed to his side, supporting him as he regained his balance.

The other children gathered around him, their eyes full of wonder and fear.

"What happened to you?" one of them asked, their voice trembling.

"I...I don't know," Marcel said, still trying to catch his breath. "I saw things...memories, I think. And then...a voice. It told me to go down below."

The children looked at each other, their expressions a mixture of confusion and awe.

"Go down below? What does that mean?" the eldest girl asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marcel shook his head, his mind still reeling from the experience.

"I don't know. But...I think I have to find out."

"Marcel you tired stop it," The other boy said, his hands still quivering from the moments and events from before.

"SHUT UP! I MUST!" Marcel screamed, and in a trance, he stood up. The kids stayed in fear wondering what had happened to Marcel.

He slowly made his way to the table, his eyes fixed on the strange book that had started this whole adventure. As he approached, he noticed something strange. On the surface of the table, there was a small indentation, barely visible to the naked eye.

Marcel extended his hand, his fingers hovering over the indentation. Suddenly, he had another vision, one that was even more vivid than the first. He saw a button, concealed within the indentation, and he knew without a doubt that this was what he had to do.

He pressed the button, and with a low hum, the table began to move, the table intricately moved in discreet and sudden ways, gears shifting echoed throughout the basement, revealing a hidden spiral staircase leading downward.

Marcel took a deep breath and began to descend, his heart racing with anticipation.

The spiral staircase seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning in a seemingly endless descent. Marcel's steps echoed loudly against the stone walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. His footsteps kept on echoing, every step felt like another step towards a goal, he wondered what it was, but his body forced him to move.

The air grew colder and damper as Marcel descended further, and the darkness was almost suffocating. But he didn't stop. He was driven by an inexplicable force, a sense of purpose that he couldn't explain.

Marcel snapped his fingers, and dim lights suddenly appeared Marcel escaped his trance and fell down to the floor. The children who had come to follow him realise it was only four steps down but for every step, it felt like miles.

Marcel did not know what was going on, whether it was some cheap systemo trick, or was it just himself, his mind, and his gut trying to stop his body from moving.

Marcel stood himself up, steam emitting from his body and the systemo locks that were on his hand started to burn. The kids watched in fear as the restraints fell off Marcel's hand sweat went all over his forehead and body, drenching his clothes as he continued down the stairs.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only truly minutes, Marcel reached the bottom of the staircase. He found himself in a small, circular room, the walls lined with ancient-looking stone carvings.

There were statues of beings, A man holding a sword at the backend of this circular room, as he stood brash and headfirst. To his right was another man, younger and with not much of a beard, who he started to touch a ring on his finger, Issuing his hand for more grapes as he munched delightfully. To the left were a woman, her head low and her arms outraised as if she was praying and no object given to her.

Then two kids, one boy, and one girl. The girl held an orb, where birds and other animals flocked towards it and the walls carved towards her direction. Then the boy, who held a book outspread as he studied, his head low and his glasses falling slowly from his head.

The cracks looked built on purpose, trying to focus on the statue it went and deemed worthy to go under,

But his attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a glowing object sat encased in glass. A clear case, that was seemingly yellow, a light source that by itself illuminated the room even though it was encased.

Marcel's heart skipped a beat as he approached it, the yellow light pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat.

He reached out a trembling hand, and as soon as his fingertips touched the glass, he was consumed by a flood of emotions. Memories started to flow through him again. Violent memories as Marcel seemed to be walking through a warzone, using a book to fight darks and humans and proks from all over. He jumped over many soldiers, and suddenly the dynamic switched to a similar memory, more violent than the next was that of a beautiful woman being struck down.

Then Marcel was thrust into another battle, inside a religious event where an elderly man used a sword to fight, killing and slaughtering enemies with a sword made out of lightning.

Armors flying in the air and weapons wreaking havoc and then suddenly, an elderly man, blind in sight came to the boy and outstretched his hand.

As all of these memories were flowing through Marcel he was suddenly shaken out of a trance by the boy, shaking him enough to where he fell to the ground with the boy. Both are in the danger zone of this fascinating object. Marcel's instinct was to try and touch it again but as he outreached his hand all the children flocked on top of Marcel, trying to stop him.

Marcel felt a deep sense of awe and reverence, mixed with a tinge of fear.