Nekeili's right hand glided across the wall as he slowly walked down the ancient structure's corroded steps.
His fingertips and palm showed him a whole new way of traversing. He could feel slight vibrations shooting across the surface of the wall as his right hand ran smoothly alongside it. The vibrations traveled down to his feet, then into the very ground beneath him, and then back up again. Nekeili's mind was using this feedback like a sort of map. Then he added his ears to the mix, and it became even more potent. This awkward method of movement was incredible. The more he focused, the better he could "see," almost as if the darkness permeating this place was lifting.
Eventually, his eyesight grew stronger along with his other two senses as they worked in unison. His hearing and touch helped his sight bridge the gap in what he couldn't fully see. Now he wasn't trying so hard to focus, his mind easing little by little as the burden became lighter.
He made a mental note to practice using all his senses after he left here. This was another way to grow, so it was important that he capitalize on it.
Nekeili spoke to himself. "If I could master a way of melding all of my senses together, unifying them essentially, there should be no place in this world that could restrict my senses like it did in the beginning of my descent."
At least, that's what he thought anyway.
But he knew it was far from easy. He could innately feel that he was barely tapping into his body's new abilities. He wasn't anywhere near truly using just these three senses together, let alone to their utmost limit. Despite that, however, Nekeili's visibility of his surroundings gradually increased.
He could see the walls better now. Their coarse grooves and jagged edges, slowly worn away by time, were making themselves known to him. The dust drifting through the air almost sparkled as it was kicked up by his footsteps.
But not quite.
There was no source of light around.
Only the unnatural glow emanating from his eyes.
Whenever Nekeili occasionally slicked his hair back to brush away the dust and clear his face of its thick locks, the skin of his hand would catch glimpses of that reflected light. The greenish-red glow from his eyes reflected subtly across his palm, and he was unsure what to think of it. He would need a mirror, or something similar, to truly see what changes had occurred.
Like he had said about his system and the changes to his body, it was borderline evolution happening in real time. He knew for certain this was not normal.
But for now, Nekeili threw the thought to the back of his mind as something else caught his attention.
He could smell something in the air, or feel it on his skin, or perhaps both.
Its pressure was changing.
The very texture of the air was changing.
It grew stale, then unbelievably rancid. His nostrils instinctively filtered out the toxic particles and unseen bacteria drifting through the air. Yet, as a form of warning, they still allowed him to understand exactly what he was smelling. The sensation made him mentally sick, but with his low mastery over his senses, he had to keep his mind even more focused.
His senses were working together in a wondrous way to give him the visibility he possessed now. It had been unimaginable when he first began his descent, but he couldn't lose concentration now. He could feel his visibility drop noticeably if, even for a single moment, he relaxed.
But he had gotten better at it.
As for the air circulating around him, he would simply have to brave it and steel his mind against the smell it carried.
Hopefully, with enough time and patience, it would become easier to block it out.
For now, though, he marched forward, wondering what source this putrid air was originating from.
---
After some time, Nekeili finally made it down the mind-numbingly long descent. He was growing frustrated with his decision to go so deep, but something within him kept guiding him onward, lulling and persuading him to continue downward.
The air pressure increased as he walked away from the stairs and into a long, stretching corridor. It wasn't just the air growing heavier; it was growing fouler as well. Its scent turned strangely sweet beneath the overwhelming rancor of decay and death.
Now he knew for certain.
Death awaited him at the end of this tunnel.
In what form, he did not know, but he was ready nonetheless. Like he himself had said, his life, whether glorious or tragic, was his to lead as he saw fit.
So, with that being said, he picked up his pace and ran.
Ran until a massive stone gate came into view.
A tapestry of ancient images carved into its frame slowly revealed itself before him. The surrounding walls were inscribed with countless markings, similar to those upon the gate, yet somehow different.
Nekeili couldn't understand these archaic scriptures.
But he noticed something else that he could understand.
Void essence.
It was seeping into this time-forgotten structure. He could feel its unique signature leaking into the very foundation of the ruins. The longer he remained within its confines, the stronger this dark essence saturated the surrounding space.
His perception of Void Essence was difficult to describe. He could vaguely see beyond what should have been nothing but empty space and air, hidden behind the curtain of his, and everyone else's, observable reality. Yet, more than seeing it, he felt a connection growing stronger with this strange energy, or whatever it truly was.
It made no sense.
His healing grew weaker the farther he moved from the gate, which meant its influence shouldn't have reached this far or this deep to begin with.
Unless...
Nekeili spoke aloud, softly, uncertainty lingering in his voice.
"Could it be that its rate of infection is faster underground? Or should I call it influence... or power? How deep has it gone? Could it have spread farther than even I can assume?"
He sighed heavily.
He wouldn't know for certain until he had more points of reference and firm, concrete evidence to support the questions forming in his mind.
The essence saturated these ancient walls, giving life to the fabled pictographs carved upon them.
Thrumming with an unnerving cadence, the walls fed him images the closer he looked. He took a deep breath and slowed his pace. Inch by inch, step by step, he approached the wall to his right.
His palm hovered over its weathered surface. He could feel his body absorbing the ambient Void Essence seeping from its ancient pores. A strange connection formed between himself and the structure, the dark energy acting as a bridge that linked the two together.
He reached out.
The moment his fingertips touched the ancient pictograph, thousands of distorted images invaded his mind.
His consciousness buckled beneath the overwhelming flood.
Standing perfectly still, his eyes showed no sign of awareness, almost as though his body had become vacant. The whites of his eyes were overtaken by an inky blackness, rapidly encroaching toward the very centers of his irises. The red and green glow that had once illuminated them with a lukewarm light was now being threatened, slowly swallowed beneath that suffocating darkness.
He threw his head back and gasped.
A pained grunt escaped his lips as his knees nearly buckled beneath him, yet his palm refused to release the wall, as though something unseen held it firmly in place.
Finally, his strength gave way.
He collapsed onto his knees, his hand tearing free from the ancient stone.
His mind remained trapped within a relentless torrent of mind-numbing scenes, unable to break away.