As soon as he received those memories from the future, Banks immediately paused in his exploration of the clinic, instead taking a seat in one of the many waiting room chairs. The knight wasn't a problem for him. As tough as it may be, it was relatively slow and the rhinestones cared very little for such meager toughness. His sister didn't scrimp on the penetrating power of the spell she created. If the sword of the statue was the key to the sword lock below then they could descend further. The question then was how to deal with the bodies below. While the old woman suggested getting some holy light power on their side, the bodies didn't feel particularly unholy or dark to his senses, and he had fairly good senses for this thing. Honestly as cliché as it sounded, fire would likely be the most effective, no matter how much flesh there was it would only serve as fuel. He could just imagine the smell right now.

  "Giving up?" the old woman who had been the most help in the past/future asked. "We can head back to the station if there's nothing more here."

  "What's your name?" he asked. It had gotten a bit tired, having to refer to her only as the older lady. Especially since she proved herself quite experienced.

  "Gram," she said. "When I was young they called me that because I was small, and then when I joined the army they called me Killer Gram. Nowadays all my descendants call me Gram as in grandma."

  "That's quite a practical way of getting all your nicknames to line up," Banks admitted, lifting his hand as a small flame appeared above it. He slowly breathed in and out as he felt his mana veins pulse with mana, categorizing those that were completely ruined, clogged, partially clogged, damaged, fixable, easily fixable, mostly operational and the rarest, at full capacity. Sketching out a method of mana operation he raised his hand feeling the mana release down the preset paths and a small orange flame appeared in his hands, before ballooning into a fireball about the size of his head.

  "You can use fire magic," the older wo__Gram said.

  "Everybody can," Banks said. "Little kids in the villages learn how to throw a fireball, oftentimes before they learn why they shouldn't. Didn't you?"

  "When I grew up they taught little kids how to summon water for the crops," Gram admitted. "I suppose the question I should be asking now, is why are you suddenly using fire magic."

  "Because it has been a long while since I've had to, and we're going to need it soon," he admitted. "I used to be able to summon white flames, if you can believe that, but now I can't even get to yellow. Still it will have to do." He stood up from his chair heading towards the back where the fountain was. A single rhinestone fell into his hand and he casually circled the courtyard focusing his mana vision onto the statue, looking as inconspicuous as possible.

  "What are you looking for," younger cousin said as he watched from sidelines.

  "A perfect..." he paused, both for dramatic effect and because he didn't know if the statue was sapient. If he timed it correctly he would make sure that it's first moment of alarm was it's last. "...kill," he finished as a rhinestone slipped through the sound barrier, fractions of a second before it slipped through the back of the statues neck. The creature let out a noise like a deflating chimney as it fell to the ground on it's knees clutching it's throat. Rhinestones two through six immediately bombarded the statue, smashing it's limbs and preventing it from forming any desperate counterattack. In less than a second the thing was dead and smashed, and only now did it seem to dawn on the other three, that the statue was a living thing, remarkably disguised as inanimate.

  "What is that thing," little cousin reacted the first drawing his weapon as a series of blue orbs surrounded him.

  "A construct of some sort," Gram stated. "But kept in a dormant state. Not a single emission of mana, until it moved. I could say that it could be used for assassination, maybe with an active cloaking mode, that broke when attacked. I don't recognize the method of construction, or the material."

  "It's burnished slate," Banks said as he took an inquiring look at the now shattered substance. "Not often used for assassinations as it's quite heavy and clunky. They tended to use these in trap construction. Many would-be graverobbers never saw their end coming. Can you look around and see if you can find a sword?"

  "You seem experienced with grave robbing," Jakk probed as he examined the fountain, crouching at the stagnant water.

  "I've dabbled in some archaeology," Banks admitted.

  "What's the difference?" Jakk asked, that old joke apparently making him think he was funny.

  "Time," Banks stated drolly, only for his further words to be interrupted by younger cousin.

  "Found something," he said, pointing out a decoration on the head of the fountain, before he reached forward with his fingers and under the watchful eye of the other three tugged on the decoration which easily slid out to reveal a familiar full sized sword from the fountain. Looking at it in the cold light of the late afternoon it was really a beauty, carved runes in a style that he didn't personally understand forged with a level of expertise he couldn't evaluate. "What do we do with a sword?"

  "Stab something with it," Banks said. "Keep ahold of it for now younger cousin. We're going downstairs."

  "There's a downstairs?" Jakk asked. "Did we miss a trapdoor?"

  "I thought I saw a trapdoor earlier," younger cousin said. "Out in front."

  "Nice, you can show me the way," Banks said, humoring him.

  "Alright, this way," younger cousin said, leading him to the trapdoor that he had seen in the past. "I noticed it when we first came in, but I hadn't had a good chance to look at it yet."

  "You need to tell me when you see things like that," Jakk said with some exasperation. "Don't just see things suspicious and contemplate it silently. Otherwise your teammates won't even know how they died."

  "Hey, it slides open quite easily," the younger cousin said, his words a barely subtle attempt to forestall a lecture. "There's stairs leading down. After you," he offered to Banks. The time traveler chose not to call him out. Stepping down he was once again confronted with the horrifying scene. Bodies with mutilated eyes that hung from white strings, all staring creepily at him as he entered the room.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "There should be a sword key down there," he said pointing in the direction. "Go ahead and stick the sword in."

  "How do you know all this?" Gram asked, her voice not quite suspicious.

  "Think of it as a type of clairvoyance magic," Banks said, watching as the younger cousin advanced slowly and cautiously through the building.

  "You get extra pay for possessing clairvoyance magic," Gram said. "Also they would probably want you back at the station."

  "I just love patrolling the rainy streets," Banks defended himself, watching as the younger cousin ambled about examining the floor, before finding the hole. Nervously he looked around before plunging the sword into the hole...and nothing happened.

  "Twist it," Banks yelled, watching as he tried and got no result.

  "Why are you turning it counterclockwise," Jakk yelled out. "None of the locks we have are counterclockwise." His words were cut off as with a click the floor began to shake as various squares appeared briefly on the floor, startling the youngest man, before falling away bit by bit. In less than two seconds a series of stairs leading downwards were generated.

  "Be careful," Jakk yelled out as the nearest corpses started squirming, reaching towards the younger cousin. Weapon in hand, he launched himself towards the corpse standing in between the younger man and the creature squirming on the line.

  "Huh, I didn't think it would attack the person wielding the sword key," Banks said, as he condensed a ball of flame above his palm, watching it turn orange.

  "These aren't returning to humanity?" Gram asked him, although that question seemed more like seeking a second opinion then actual inquiry.

  "They're gone," Banks said solemnly, receiving a firm nod from the woman before she strode forward as more and more strings started to snap dropping the bodies to the floor. Banks threw the flame onto the nearest body and was gratified to see it immediately catch aflame. Fireball after fireball hit corpse after corpse, each one turning into another pyre. A hand attached to a muscular whip-like arm slammed into him, and he caught it, before grabbing the flesh directly and setting the entire carpet of flesh alight. Thankfully the whole place was made of stone originally, it was completely inflammable, unflamable something like that. Gram slashed away, that glowing sword seemingly disintegrate chunks of the flesh, while both Jakk and his cousin were nearly completely ineffectual, stabbing away initially before backing off and leaving the flesh disposal to the two of them who could actually do anything.

  "These remind me a bit of zombies," Gram said as she slashed again and again, no skill required just volume of attacks reducing the total amount of flesh and severing the strings.

  "They're not zombies," Banks said as he summoned more and more flames. Fireballs, whips of fire, flamethrowers, fire came in all shapes and sizes and all was directed towards the flesh of former humans. The smell was horrific, like sickening charred bacon. The process was onerous but easy. Eventually every piece of scrap flesh was on fire and minutes later they were burnt to a crisp. The sights that filled those few minutes was...indescribable.

  "That was..." younger cousin said.

  "That was unpleasant," Gram admitted.

  "Horrifying," Jakk said. "I'm going to ask the Commander for an early day after this. See if we can get some paid recovery time."

  "You won't get any at this time," Gram pointed out.

  "You never know," Jakk said. "So are we going to go down there?"

  "We better," Banks said as he stepped forward descending the staircase yet again. As soon as he approached the bottom he could already feel himself start to sweat and upon stepping out of the staircase a thin layer of perspiration had formed over his face. The bottom floor was hot, composed entirely of stone once again. A series of familiar looking statues lined the walls. At the far end of the room were various tools, an anvil, a workbench, a mana melding table and various other contraptions that he had no reference as to what they do.

  "Is this a smithy?" Gram asked. "Looks like a fine one." As she spoke her eyes didn't leave the statues.

  "Are those statues, alive?" Jakk asked after a pause.

  "Don't know," Banks stated as he walked forward. Rhinestones formed above his hands, but he didn't fire them off yet, instead stepping to the far side of the room, where a colossal amount of mana was shifting and pulsing, under strict control. Walking past the tools and devices he found a clearing in which the various tools were replaced by a series of two plinths. On the right hand plinth stood a severed left leg, the stump cut was so shear that it looked as if a laser had done it. His intuition told him that this left leg probably once belonged to the Undying Emperor.

  His breath hitched as he saw what stood on the second plinth. It was nominally a carved replica of a left leg, but the workmanship was beyond even the concept of perfection. Large, probably belonging to a body over three meters, the grain of the wood carved into fine patterns, that seemed to almost tell a tale or sing a hymn, or declare a truth. To praise the leg as humanlike would be to insult, because every square centimeter of this replica seemed to contain a beauty and power far beyond the mere carving should ever represent.

  "Reverence," Banks said to himself, and not a weak version. Reverence was the aura of the gods, a special feeling promoting worship and fear towards humanity. Only those who had glimpsed the fallibility of the deities could ever resist the reverence. This leg was without a doubt, the limb of a god. What the heck was it doing next to the Undying Emperor's corpse. Did the Emperor plan this. No, it was a bit of a longshot and he wouldn't allow himself to fall into conspiracy.

  More likely was that the Emperor was being used for parts, he had already seen the hand placed below the city, but the whole process was not as sophisticated as this set up. Mana seemed to flow from his leg to the god's leg as if the Undying Emperor was powering it, stabilizing it, providing an aesthetic contrast. Whatever it was there was no doubt that the Emperor was killed for his parts, as well as to possibly get him out of the way to allow all this shit to go unhindered. But why use the Undying Emperor, was there something special about him. Besides the creation of the Golden Guards the Undying Emperor's actual magic use was not well known. Very few who faced him in battle, ever got the chance to survive and record their experiences.

  "I appreciate you take good care of your appearance, but staring at a mirror for too long can be dangerous," the words were said in younger cousin's tone, but when Banks turned his eyes around he saw the aforementioned staring into a dark blue full length mirror that he had overlooked previously. A hand was extended from the mirror grasping onto the shoulder of the younger cousin who stared into the mirror in horror, before cracks started appearing from his shoulder and in an instant he had shattered into glass. A figure looking exactly like younger cousin stepped out from the mirror.

  "Daved," Jakk yelled running up to him, his weapon drawn, but seemingly reluctant to actually attack something wearing his cousin's face.

  "I'm afraid not," the mirror creature said, wearing Daved's face as he flicked his fingers and the cracks started appearing from the air, lines breaking out and engulfing Jakk in a second, causing him to crack open. Gram appeared at that point dodging past the cracks, her sword glowing and slashing down to crush the skull of the mirror creature.

  "No, don't," Banks yelled a second before the hammer landed and the older woman's head was crushed open straight through her hexagon defense. "Fucking mirror magic," he groused. He hated mirror magic, it was the most irrational, frustrating, overpowered nonsense and he hated it.

  "Mirror magic must seem terrifying for somebody with no self-reflection," the mirror creature said.

  "I can self-reflect," Banks said. Rhinestones were in hand, but he didn't fire them. Mirror magic tended to be absurdly strong against projectiles.

  "Then go and do that," the mirror creature said as the world started to crack, then his body started to crack and then he fell into darkness. "And stop messing around with things you shouldn't. Just sit back and enjoy the sights of the city."