Prologue

(A/N: a bit of a long start)

******

"Summer Tomato Bouillabaisse with Basil Rouille," A grimy youth with a noticeable frail body put down the french cuisine catalog as he said to himself, damping a piece of bread in what appeared to be a tuna empty can, with only the thick texture of the vegetable oil remaining.

Just after finishing with cutting and soaking the moldy pieces of loaf in the can, he grabbed a dusty spoon from the drawer, (which notably also played the role of a kitchen and food storage), and proceeded to wolf his last trace of sustenance inside what seemed to be an abandoned metal shack.

For a casual passerby, this would be a place where despondent homeless people live, though, only his previous university professors would remember that the youth was once an upcoming graduate from the prestigious University of Massachusetts literature department.

As a talented mythologist, he not only mastered 12 different pantheons with their rich histories and countless tales but also managed in his fourth year in the university to decipher the language of the famously ancient and mysterious, "Voynish manuscript."

Yet, with all his achievements and acclaims he remained penniless after his graduation. Never getting any opportunities for hiring in any kind of historical institution since most of them have long filed for bankruptcy and even the literature workshops have denied any request for a job from his part.

The reason for this 2 years jobless draught, came naturally after a horrid global pandemic struck the country—destroying most of the latter's economy and wealth.

In a world such that, there is no way, someone in their right state of mind would want to hire a man, that only skill is possessing a glip tongue capable of flawlessly reciting myths and legends of long-forgotten gods and heroes.

With fishy burps, he stood up, rummaging in his raddled pocket, for what he acknowledged to be the last 20 cents before he would go completely broke.

Nier retracted the silver coins and stealthy went outside the shack, for the bank collectors have been chasing him for months, due to his unpaid college debts.

It was late at night, already nearing 12, though Nier had no choice, the midnight's dark corners, and alleys were the only thing he could use to skulk his way unnoticed.

Soon, he reached the local town's payphone, inferring that a three-minute call would cost 10 cents, and if the receiver fails to pick up the call, the rusty thing would not offer any money reclaim.

Nier inserted 10 cents in its corresponding slot and dialed the number of his old archeology teacher, professor Walson.

The phone creakily rang and after about 20 seconds of pealing— all noises hushed down— The call has failed to pass through.

Nier cursed, slamming his fist on the long wooden pole that held the phone in place.

Bitterly, he looked at the prevailing 10 cent coin and heaved a sigh, it was already late anyway, there's no food he could buy with so little money, and even if he managed to survive this week, what of the other forsaken days?

Oh, Maybe use a help center or even a homeless shelter?

Nier has already contacted them to no avail, the shelters were already so crammed with poor souls they might as well just turn the place into a cattle stable.

With complicated emotions, he pushed the silver coin and heard the same noise as of late.

5 seconds passed... 10 seconds... Nier's heart thumped loudly, he wasn't even sure Professor Walson would retain the same number, yet a feeling told him to trust his guts, Walson would help him, he always did.

Just when Nier was about to give up and ease his grip on the phone, a clear voice sounded in his right ear.

"Hello," Prof Walson said, drunk with drowsiness, "Who is it?"

"Prof. Walson," Nier rushed to shout, "I'm Nier Whitlock, your student from 4 years ago,"

"Mr. Whitlock?" He cheerfully recalled, getting up from the bed after his wife uttered a grunt. "How's everything?"

"Listen," Nier ignored, "Things haven't been good since I graduated from school— Anyway, I'm currently in Innsmouth, hiding because of my university debts, and deeply ashamed to say that I'm terribly in need of your help,"

"What I can do for you?" Prof Walson replied, worried.

"I'm in dire need of money," Nier said.

"Money?" Professor Walson shook his head, "Son, I'm afraid I can't help you in this one,"

Walson explained, "Me and 5 of the best zooarcheologists, anthropologists, and other experts in the country have spent all our worldly savings on our upcoming lifetime dream project,"

"Project?" Nier grimaced. "The witch-cult one you told me about back in my college days?"

"Yes exactly, I'm finally would be able to unravel one of the biggest secrets the middle ages era has to offer," Walson proudly declared. "Tomorrow morning we would take a flight to Europe, then after the trip, I can finally retire or even kick the bucket in peace,"

"Spending all your money on an expedition, how expected of a veteran archeologist," Nier thought, as a bold idea crossed his mind.

"Could perhaps the team be interested in a mythologist?" He said in a low tone. "As you know, I memorized by heart most of the lore of Eastern Europe including all the pre—Christian theologies and practices, I can certainly help the team ravel something,"

Professor Walson mused over the offer for a moment, and was about to politely reject the youth when Nier added, "And of course you might need my philology expertise for any ruins or language decipherment, I doubt that someone in your team can help in that,"

"This," Walson muttered, recalling Nier's actual "Useful" skill.

"We certainly did not consider such a thing," Walson said, bobbing his head. "Though we can just send snapped images to any philologist or ruins expert,"

"And get the results in the afterlife?" Nier snorted, "You'd be the first to attest that there's no expert in the field better than me, If I can't —nobody can, why not use the best?"

"..."

Nier began to hear the sharp quivers between the old man's breathes and decided to tempt him even more, "I, of course, would be working without pay as everybody I presume in the team would,"

"I just want food" This sentence, however, Nier left the pleasure to tell to himself.

"..." Walson opened his mouth, only to shut it down shortly after.

"What about your passport and international licenses?" He finally inquired.

Nier pulled a little card, which contains his name and some other personal information, and was relieved that it was still about 2 years far from being invalid.

"Not expired yet," Nier affirmed.

Prof Walson sighed, instructing in a half hesitant tone, "Very good, Then, I have to make some calls and pull some strings to get you a plane ticket, you just need to make sure to come tomorrow to the Boston Regional Airport at exactly 6 am,"

Nier has never got to affirm his consent, he could only hear the beeping sound of an abruptly terminated call.

"The airport is about 100 km from Innsmouth," Nier guessed going back to the shack, He already donned the most presentable clothes he could find, and there wasn't anything he owned worth taking besides a ragged winter coat and some important manuscripts, so after grabbing the items and packing them in his old valise—he forged straight to the main road of the town.

After about an hour of waving at cars, a bulky man finally halted his Nissan truck and allowed him to settle down in the car's heaven exposed rear.

Nier felt the town's salty air slowly flit his nostrils, and at some point decided to take a nap, to promptly be wakened after the truck suddenly jerked to a halt.

The bulky man impatiently blew his horn, for Nier to quickly hop off, and without pausing for any thank you type words the car departed in its way.

Nier arrived at the front of the airport at about 5 in the morning and found the party of eager scientists already waiting in the lounge sofas.

Professor Walson was the first to spot him, horrified to find the youth in such a pitful condition.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Nier greeted the group, sensing a contemptuous stare, drill holes inside his skull.

"Welch?" Nier discerned. The stare owner was none other than a blonde-haired colleague of Nier back in the university days.

Professor Suzuki a well-noted Japanese anthropologist was the first to talk, "Glad a skilled philologist as Mr. Whitlock joined us in this legendary venture. Our sacrifice won't go unapparent, the future generations would surely be talking about us for ages to come!"

The 5 professors save young Welch all cheered in agreement.

(A/N: Philologist: is an expert charged of discovering the meaning of texts written in ancient or obscure languages or scripts)

Nier slightly frowned, he hated it when someone only acknowledges his second field of expertise, perhaps his noble passion for mythology was also one of the reasons why he failed to find a job.

"Beyond that pitiful ability, Why would we even need a useless mythologist like him? Welch snarled in disgust. "To amuse us of Zeus ravishment stories?"

"Oh," Nier reacted, "It appears to me that Zeus also ravished your mother,"

"What did you say?" Welch said, veins twitching around his head.

"Both of you stop now," Prof Walson quickly jumped in, hushing them both.

"Tsk," Welch did not press any further, Walson was the chief of the expedition and its biggest contributor.

Professor Keita a Nigerian-born zoologist and also an expert of voodoo sorcery chuckled, "I remember you Rascals, we used to call you Tom and Jerry back in the day."

Nier and Welch both flinched at the same time.

"Ah, it's our flight," Walson realized after a lady's voice reverberated in the hall.

He looked at Nier and handed him a ticket, "Your flight is set at 10, business class, we'll be waiting in the airport for you so we can all traverse straight to western Germany,"

"Understood," Nier nodded, and soon found himself alone.

The flight did not feel long to Nier, contrary to the average flight attendant, he truthfully enjoyed the food.

Before long, he met up again with the group and they all departed from the Berlin airport using a black van towards what the locals call 'the heartland of the witch craze'.

Where a town named Würzburg was known for its great wine and also its occult history of conducting the largest witch trials ever recorded—all of which took place between the years 1626-1632.

*****

One day has passed since their arrival to Germany, they have mostly traveled via van and for two nights have slept in some of the cheap motels on the way to Würzburg.

Nier has gotten a clear view of the purpose of the expedition. Apparently, they are going to excavate and scour for the remains of the slain witches in the town and also look for any inklings to where the prevailing witches might have escaped.

On the third day, they finally arrived at Würzburg. And met up with a local guide named Bruno, for a tour around the town.

The party members were amazed by such a beautiful architecture, especially the mesmerizing Marienberg Fortress and the town hall.

Although, Nier's whole attention was sucked towards a Gothic-style twin-towered building, which Bruno mentioned to be the city's main cathedral.

A potent foreboding sensation washed over Nier after he glanced at the cathedral's dim front door, the feeling was so strong that at some point found himself contemplating the idea of steering ahead to take a quick look.

Walson however, did not approve of Nier's whimsical request, the cathedral was only a place of prayer, and to be fair they had lots of work to fulfill.

***

The first week was wasted on collecting information and interviewing some of the old folks, that lived enough to recall tales of the witch trials.

Unfortunately for the group, the inquiry did not bear any fruitful results, for obvious reasons, like the unusual reticence of the people to discuss such evil events.

In the second week, the team began exhuming for skeletal remains of the stake-burned witches, and indeed after about 2 months managed to find a grave at the fringes of the town. Which according to Professor Ludwig a forensic anthropologist corresponded to a female that was burned alive between the age of 21 and 24.

Meanwhile, Nier has kept going to the cathedral each time Walson was busy enough to forget about his existence.

Even himself could not explain the fascination directed at the twin tower. Nier could recall walking over the aisle numerous times, sitting like a religious man on long benches for hours, and even occasionally sneaking in to inspect the vestry and belfry.

Yet, he could not find anything out of the usual.

Months quickly went by, which only made the team grow hectic and a tad frustrated. After all the hard work they put in, they did not make any more progress after their rookie -luck catch, and not to mention the expedition money was running quite low.

Sitting at a circular table on a starry night, the party members had dinner while discussing the future of the expedition.

Walson's face noticeably got older, his close friend Professor Suzuki started smoking again after 20 years of cigarettes-free life.

All the members were grim, yet the sourest of them all was Welch.

"I have spent my lifetime fortune in this damned project, yet no progress has been made," Welch angrily spattered on the table.

"We all have, Son," Professor Walson bitterly cut in.

Some of the party members began to eye Nier sitting away from the table, presently penning who knows what on his pocket diary.

In their eyes, the youth did not contribute anything besides wasting away days in that town's cathedral.

Welch's anger has soared to unimaginable heights after he saw the youth's expressionless face. He came to despise Nier since the day he found out about the youngster's shocking aptitude for interpreting the strangest languages he ever laid eyes upon, moreover, Nier's choice to shun such god-given ability and choose Mythology studies as a major only served to intensify his dislike.

"What are you even doing?" Welch yelled, nettled beyond belief.

Nier did not hear him, his newfound revelations have completely consumed him.

Walson glanced over, not having any more energy to refute Welch, as he politely said, "Son, come closer, you haven't eaten for days,"

As Nier inscribed the last few letters his pen slipped from his grasp to fell to the ground with a clack.

The throng of experts glanced over and saw the youth's face going void for a second.

"What's wrong son?" Walson inquired.

"I solved it!" Nier exclaimed, glimpsing back at the diary's page with a feverish look on his face.

"What did you solve?" Professor Suzuki asked in a thick Japanese accent.

"Everything" Nier hastily laid down his diary on the table, pointing at a sentence.

Professor Walson's interest piqued, and he stiffly leaned down to read the text.

"Below the teacher of heavens, the codex waits for its bearer," Walson read, creasing his brows. "What is this supposed to mean?"

Nier frantically explained, "As everybody already knows, I have been going to the cathedral for months—in my third month there, I started noticing a common pattern in some of the stuccoed walls. Of course, I did not immediately jump to any conclusions, till the day I found out that the patterns also held a repetition of strokes very similar to how a language would work."

Nier continued, "The process of collecting as many patterns as I can— took me about a month. Then, pretending as if the stuccoed ceiling art was a language, I started deciphering its meaning in English, and oddly enough I found out that each section of the cathedral ceiling held a specific word,"

"Which you collocated in this sentence?" Walson interjected.

"Yes," Nier answered Walson right back.

"Supposing what you said holds an ounce of validity, what would this sentence help us with?" Welch said.

Professor Norman responded, "The codex hint to a book, and taking into consideration we are talking about a cathedral, the teacher of heavens would obviously be a priest,"

"Below a priest?" Walson muttered, perplexed. "Nier son, you can't be meaning what I think your meaning,"

"I do," Nier said, smiling.

"An underground cellar in a 978-years-old church, how silly could that be," Ludwig voiced his doubts. Two other professors nodded in agreement.

Professor Suzuki and Professor Keita were the only two people in the group that trusted Nier's abilities enough to vocally express their support.

Walson palmed his head, mulling over the matter. And only after the team began arguing loudly that he spoke again.

"There is no harm in investigating what Nier has found,"

Welch at this moment almost burst, "The idiocy in this room," he said, furiously storming outside.

"Leave him, he will cool off on his own," Walson said, retracting his attention to Nier, "I can't believe I'm desperate enough to say this, but when should we check the matter, you brought up?" Professor Walson.

"Preferably right now," Nier said, "The night would be the best time to check out the place,"

"Well, let's go then to take a look," Walson said, treating the matter as if it was a casual park walk.

The team of 7 along with a reluctant Welch not wishing to be left alone, headed to the cathedral.

"The door is closed," Walson said after he spotted the building.

Nier grinned, pulling a key, as he informed, "I have the key for the backdoor, and don't even attempt to ask me how I got it,"

The team rounded the gothic building and entered through a small portal.

"Now what?" Welch complained.

"Now we search for clues," Nier said, inspecting the place.

"Below the messenger of heavens" The quietest of the lot, Professor Norman muttered to himself, pulling Nier with him to the cathedral's alter.

It did not take long before the party members heard Norman shriek in utter astonishment.

"What's happening, Norman are you ok?" Walson urgently said, scrambling to check up on his old friend.

"Not at all," Norman's said, in a squirmy manner.

The team shuffled to meet at Norman's feet and as soon as they reached the spot— all of them subsequently gasped.

The heavy marble altar has been slightly pushed by Nier and Norman to reveal a little crevice below.

"What in the love of God is that," Keita said, clasping his hat.

"A vault," Nier said, agape.

"Quickly, Help us push the alter all the way to the side,"