The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 62: Chapter 62: First Glimpse of the Sky

Read chapter 62 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 62: First Glimpse of the Sky Kael rushed in front of Marc and the small skeleton. "Another passage?!" He reached for Marc's collar, but reason doused his anger mid-movement. In the end, he pulled on his own earlobe and cupped the other with his free hand. "Why did we go through the burial pit if there is another damned passage? Do you think it's fun, or that we wanted to spice up our lives with existential terrors like a logic-erasing Paradox Wight, or a snag that moves people? Fuck you, Marc, if that's even your name." Els narrowed her recovering eyes and stumbled behind Kael. Roughly finding his shoulders, she shook her head at Marc. "I wanted to trust you—our parents' friend who has known us from the crib." She bit her twisted lips. "But Kael's right. Who are you truly, and where are we?" The small skeleton scratched its skull. "Congratulations, Drake. You forgot to explain things again, and this time to terrified lads. I would be mad, too. Everyone would be if they saw the Paradox Wight up close. I understand you, though. Memory gets worse with age, and your—Hey!" Drake knocked the skeleton down with his cane. "Ransley Grinwight! Get your old ass to the door before you lose one of your toys." With a shiver, the skeleton scattered onto the ground. His gaze flickered between Kael, Els, and Tonio, who silently pushed himself up against the wall. With a grin, Drake turned toward the heavy, studded door. "Why the burial pit? Where are we?" He spread his arms wide. "See for yourselves." See what? If Kael could growl like Tonio, he would have. Instead, he let out a sharp hiss. The hiss faded, and he rolled his eyes when the door creaked open slowly enough to let a light paler than it should bathe Marc theatrically. Or was it Drake now? However, he quickly gulped down his cynicism. A grey-haired man, wrinkled and leaning on a cane fashioned like Drake's, stood grumbling in the doorway. His feathered brown hat and woollen tunic, laced with golden patterns at the collar and sleeves, fluttered in winds too strong for the slums. "First visit in years, and he already wants to break my toys. Friends are not what they were back then..." But Kael didn't hear him. He couldn't. His gaze was locked on what lay behind the man. Clean air rolled onto his face, free of the stench of decomposition from the burial pit, but not only. Even though he smelled traces of steam and dust from the mines, it was light in his nose, much lighter than anything he had ever breathed. Could air even smell this clean? Maybe in the wealthiest neighborhood of the central district. The metallic ground stretched outside the corridor. Not into the neon-lit spiderwebs of streets and alleys, but a single broad avenue. Ignoring Drake, he rushed to the door. Els followed, and they both leaned out. They were in the last room at the far end of the avenue. On his right, five slanted houses pressed against a rocky wall. On his left... nothing. Not as in no houses. No other street. Just a hole. With a gasp, Els pointed down the hole. CLICK CLICK CLICK Rhythmic clicks finally reached him. He knew it! He had watched its source and wondered how such an enormous structure worked for years. And when he leaned down, his breath caught in his throat. The giant cogs! He was on one of those ten-man broad beams, right over the giant cogs protected by the enforcers' grid. Behind the only way out of this pit of despair. Further, the streets of the central district glowed beneath a thick layer of steam and dust. So... above... He tilted his neck upward slowly, the bones cracking like rusted metal. The edge of a white house dominated the pit, the same one he had always watched as he dreamed of the sun, flowers, and peace. He had never seen it from this close. Never. And the silver light that had bathed Drake! It came from a deep, dark ceiling lit by a huge crescent-shaped lamp and countless smaller ones. "By Kraghor's eternal peace..." Els muttered beside him, a tear trailing down her