The Webway Mirror 1 - Raising to Ashes

[Ya Evyl Aunty]

Fenix lies cramped in the tunnel beneath the Life Support System, the cold metal walls of the container pressing against his sides. The space is tight, barely wide enough for him to turn his head or shift his weight, but he isn’t uncomfortable—just contained.

He presses the flashlight against one of the transparent nitrogen bags, the material filling almost every inch of space beyond the tunnel. The light paints a bright corona on the next bag behind it, casting strange distortion patterns of shadows and reflections. The shapes twist and stretch, creating an endless maze of gleaming surfaces that seem to move and shift every time he pumps the crank to keep the light from fading. Through the shimmering haze, he can just make out colors and vague shapes, enwrapped in the labyrinth of shadows.

It takes several tries—adjusting the angle of the light, tilting his head left and right—before Fenix manages to align the beam just right. His eyes learn to find the right paths, piercing deeper into the shadows. As he narrows the light’s path and holds it steady, the chaotic swirl of reflections gives way to individual details. Slowly, through the transparent bags, rigid frames emerge from the visual fog, gleaming faintly beneath the strange maze of distorted light. There are pinkish bodies held by some long lines right in the centers of those crates, maybe hanging from belts or ropes or chains? These should be the dogs.

He adjusts slightly, feeling the edges of the plasteel walls graze his shoulder as he angles the light toward one of the nearest dogs. Fenix can see it all only through the transparent nitrogen bags that cushion the dogs, distorting the shapes but not enough to obscure the cold efficiency of the setup. The creature is suspended within a plasteel scaffolding, its torso held perfectly still, but limbs twitching in tiny induced spasms, the fur entirely shaved, skin pale and exposed, a grid of electrodes clinging to its body. Thin wires run from the electrodes, organized and threaded neatly through slots in the frame, snaking toward the central Life Support System. The dog's mouth is slightly open, a tracheal tube snaking down its throat, connecting to the same web of cables that feeds the machine.

The light glints off the feeding tubes inserted into the dog's throat, with liquid slowly pumped into the creature's body. Fenix studies the setup closely, noting the grid of electrodes attached to its shaved skin and the web of wires that neatly feed back into the plasteel scaffolding. The design is highly efficient, made to keep the dogs' muscles active and prevent deterioration while they're sedated. Everything fits together seamlessly, from the tubes to the electrodes, forming a self-contained system with no wasted space.

As he moves the light across the container, Fenix begins to feel the cramped quarters closing in. There's barely enough space for him to shift without bumping against the walls or the metal edges of the system. He can't help but notice the stark contrast between himself and the dogs. They have been prepared for this—sedated, fed through tubes, preserved for the long haul. But he isn’t.

He frowns, absently running a hand across his forehead. He knows this container is bound for Mars, but the more he thinks about it, the more uneasy he becomes. Mass drivers—cheap, efficient ways to launch cargo—don't carry passengers. The plasma-driven intersystem flights that transport people would make the trip in a day or two, but this setup looks nothing like that. It's more likely designed for a long, slow drift through space—a low-cost shipment that could take weeks, maybe even months to reach its destination.

Fenix shifts his weight again, the nitrogen bags squeaking faintly as they press together. The space feels even tighter now, and he realizes with growing concern that he isn't prepared for this. His knapsack has a limited supply of food, hardly enough to last more than a few days, let alone weeks. He won't survive in here if this journey takes as long as it seems designed to. The dogs are built for this—sedated, fed through tubes, preserved for the long haul. But he isn't.

"Fenix! Novice Fenix Kol! This must be the dumbest idea you've had in a long, long time!" he mutters to himself. He shakes his head in the same overly dismissive way that Magos Rhaukos would. "Just get out the darn door and climb over the fence! Or sneak through the gate, or hitch a ride on one of the leaving vans or something! Your overcomplicated thinking will definitely be your end one day, and this plan sounds exactly like it would do the trick!"

He turns onto his back, almost hitting his forehead on the Life Support System above him. Grabbing the strap of his knapsack, he starts to crawl out feet first. "A free ride to Mars, just because you read about a container with its own LSS! Stupid!"

As Fenix starts to crawl out, grabbing the strap of his knapsack, he notices movement ahead. The square side of a crate is slowly sliding into view, approaching the end of the tunnel he's stuck in. His heart skips a beat—one of the Manifest Thralls must have received the final piece of cargo for the container and is preparing to shove it into place.

"No! No, stop! Wait! Let me out!" Fenix shouts, his voice cracking with urgency. He scrambles to push himself forward, but the space is too tight, and the crate is coming fast. Desperation fuels him, and he manages to wedge one of his working boots between the approaching crate and the container rim.

Outside, a confused mechanical drone hums from the Manifest Thrall, clearly baffled by the unexpected resistance. "That's right, stop loading, there’s someone in here!" Fenix shouts again, hoping for some acknowledgment.

For a moment, there’s silence—just the creaking of the container’s structure—and then a short, determined acoustic riff signals the Manifest Thrall's decision. The servo motors whirr back to life. Fenix’s blood runs cold as he realizes: Manifest Thralls can’t process voice commands.

"Stop!" Fenix screams, yanking his boot out of the closing gap just before the crate crushes it with relentless force. The metal scrapes with a harsh grind as the crate continues its unstoppable slide forward, sealing him in. "No, you worthless piece of scrap metal! It’s me, Fenix Kol! I’ve saved your rusty arse at least half a dozen times! No, no, no, no, no!"

His words are swallowed by the crumpling and squeaking of the nitrogen bags as the pressure builds, squeezing him further into the tight space. Fenix tries to shift his body, but the relentless force of the incoming crate leaves him with nowhere to go. The sharp edges of the frame press into his sides, the tight air around him growing thinner with every second.

And then the final sound—a resounding bang. The container doors slam shut, sealing him in with a deadening thud. The world outside is now cut off, leaving Fenix alone in the dark, squeezed between the crate and the Life Support System, with nothing but the faint hiss of pressurized air and the steady mechanical pulse of the container’s systems, cold and indifferent to his presence.

[Ya Evyl Aunty]

“Now, what I absolutely can’t see,” Cegorach’s colorful glove gestures toward a seemingly isolated figure at the edge of the checkered board, “is how you still plan to stop this meek little pawn from just marching through to its promotion. Do you...?”

A taloned claw slams into the chessboard violently. The entire board and its remaining pieces scatter and vanish into the abyss.

Tzeentch’s right wing twitches with the barest hint of disgust as the Changer of Ways strides away in dignified silence.

“I guess that’s a no then?” The painted smile on the jester’s mask seems to stretch twice as wide.

The Weaver of Destiny, the Schemer of All Things, is already miles away, though his pace hasn’t changed.

“Want a rematch? Anytime soo-hoon, Big Biiiii-hiird!” Cegorach calls after him.

A glowing lumen sign flickers to life at the edge of the abyss: The Lord of Change has left the house!

It shatters to pieces as a door slams violently in the distance.

Edited 6 hours ago by Ya Evyl Aunty