And then, with a resonant clunk that vibrated through the stone floor, the wall began to move. It didn’t swing open like a gate but descended smoothly into the ground, receding with a mechanical precision that was oddly modern in the ancient setting. Aida watched, breath held tight in her chest, as the slab sank and the perfume of trees rushed in. The wall’s descent slowed, finally coming to a gentle halt with a solid, final thud.
They stood together, peering into the newly revealed passage.
“Incredible,” Aida whispered. “It’s like stepping into a time that should no longer exist.”
The difference from one side of the door to the other was stunning. As far as they could see, the ceiling, walls, and floor were covered in shining black marble.
Aida and Luciano exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and apprehension in their eyes. They had found the way. Luciano reached out his hand. Aida took it, and together, they stepped into the passage. Somewhere down this path, Effie awaited them.
29
January 2021
The hallway stretched before them, its length veiling the promise of an end. With every step, the oppressive weight of despair thickened. Ten minutes bled into twenty, the corridor mocking their progress with its interminable reach. Yet, paradoxically, an inexplicable calm wove through their anxiety, a serene assurance that Sophie’s aegis was at work—they were drawing closer to divinity. The faint, pervasive scent of olive trees continued to mark their path.
Gradually, the monolithic smoothness of the marble walls fractured, giving way to a procession of Doric columns hewn from the same obsidian stone. Atop each column, a single lantern glowed with a dark blue light that grew more assertive with each measured step, eventually chasing away the need for their artificial beams.
“I’m terrified,” Aida whispered as they stowed their headlamp and flashlight. “But at the same time, I’m...”
“Completely calm,” Luciano concluded. His gaze was locked on the path unfurling before them. He gave her a weak smile. “It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?”
“Will we ever get to the end of this hallway? My feet are killing me.”
He helped her put her pack back on. Before she could resume her weary trek, Luciano cupped her cheek gently, pulling her into a kiss. It was a kiss filled with desperation, stirring a tumult of emotions within Aida, not the least of which was fear that the kiss might be her last.
“Aida, I might be falling in love with you,” Luciano confessed as he pulled away. “So it would be better if you didn’t die on me up there.”
Aida’s heart jumped—not just from his words, but from the enormity of what lay ahead. Love had no place in what they were about to do. And yet, here it was, unexpected and impossible to ignore. She searched Luciano’s face, half expecting him to take it back, to brush it off as a fleeting thought born from fear and adrenaline. But his eyes held steady, the truth of it anchoring her when fear gnawed at the edges of her mind, urging her to turn away, to run—but she didn’t. She concentrated on the steady weight of the aegis and forced a breath past the tightness in her chest.He loved her.That, and there was no room for despair. Not now.
“And by the way,” he added, “you still haven’t told me if you meant it. Back at the apartment—you said you loved me.”
The memory struck her in the chest. She had said it in a rush, half panicked, but she had meant it. The oppressive sorrow of the catacombs threatened to swallow her, but the warmth of that memory, of Luciano’s presence, cut through the darkness.
“I meant it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Love and fear collided in her chest. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. I love you.”
Luciano’s smile widened, though the darkness around them seemed to deepen. “Good. Because if we survive this, I want to hear you say it again.”
She nodded, unable to articulate her whirlwind of feelings, and followed him as he beckoned her onward.
Time seemed to dilate as they navigated the seemingly infinite corridor, nearly an hour passing before the ambient light began to transform. No longer confined to the lanterns, it now bled from an expansive chamber ahead.
Despite the sadness that assailed them, Aida and Lucianoquickened their steps until they reached the opening to a massive chamber of shining black marble. They dropped their packs at the door and stepped into the vast opulent room. Aida’s breath caught in her throat. The chamber was colossal, its grandeur dwarfing even the Sala del Maggior Consiglio in the Doge’s Palace in Venice—the largest room in Europe at one hundred and seventy-four feet long and eighty-two feet wide. Yet it was not its size alone that was so shocking, but the macabre carpet of bones that blanketed the floor, a sea of human remains stretching across the marble expanse. There wasn’t a single bare spot without a rib cage, a femur, a skull, or some other part of a former human. Piles of bones, some as towering as the room itself, jutted out like grotesque monuments, bathed in the ghostly luminescence of massive chandeliers fashioned from skeletal fragments.
At the chamber’s heart lay two harrowing sights: a massive stone altar stained with the echoes of countless sacrifices to the goddess of misery. Draped across the slab, a skeleton lay askew, its arm dangling off the edge in silent testimony to its final despair. In front of it, an ancient ornate chair glowed amid the gloom—a stark anomaly in this somber space. It was Hera’s golden chair, and in it sat a figure, small and still.
Aida tentatively stepped forward, her movement sending a cascade of bones clattering across the marble floor. Euphrosyne lifted her head, her ebony hair cascading over slender shoulders, framing a face of ethereal beauty. “There she is,” Aida breathed.
Buoyed by the sight of her, Luciano pushed forward, the noise reverberating off the distant marble walls. Aida followed in his wake. Every step felt like torture. When they were within twenty feet of the chair, she faltered, the idea of pushing through the remnants of countless lost souls becoming all too much for her.
Trying desperately to disassociate, she attempted to imagine herself on a movie set, with bones that were mere props, until she remembered with horror that in the early days of cinema they used to buy real cadavers for films. The thought filled herwith a deep aching sadness. Envisioning the despair that drove so many to this final resting place under Miseria’s influence, she crumbled, her cries echoing in the vast, cavernous hall.
“Aida?” Luciano turned. “Come, we can’t stop.” He reached out, attempting to coax her to her feet, but in her frantic state, she stumbled over a femur, her fall sending a cascade of skeletal fragments tumbling around her. Panic surged through her veins, her heart a tempest of dread and desperation.
A mocking voice cut through the din of her despair. “What do we have here?”
Aida looked up. Momus stood a few feet away amid a pile of bones. “Mo!” she cried. Despair ripped through her; their mission seemed doomed beneath his mocking scrutiny.
“Aida!” Luciano tried again to pull her forward, but her legs were like lead, her movements jerky and slow. How could they have ever thought they could save Effie?
