Chapter 27: Abandon All

The ice was slippery, but it was less than an hour to reach the edge of the gaping hole. Nash knelt down, and frowned, staring down the smooth walls of ice. Climbing them would be impossible. “Fuck,” he murmured. One of the chains hung nearby, massive iron links looped together, ending in a tremendous collar that hung down, into the blackness visible within the ice. “Not getting out that way,” Nash muttered, and shook his head as he stood up. “Unless any of you might be able to pull something off?”

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Chapter 26: The Vice and Virtue of Mankind

Nash could hear the soft sobs fill the air. He looked around, and found that the only thing in any direction was an endless gray expanse. It stretched off into infinity in a way that was completely impossible to focus on, undifferentiated and mind-numbing. He turned until he could hear the sobbing coming from somewhere in front of him, and began to walk. It seemed to make a difference.

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Chapter 24: This Miserable Measure the Wretched Souls Maintain

Nash ran without tiring, as the skies clouded over. A thick sleet began to pelt down, gathering in great drifts on the ground. It was thick and dark, with a smell like mildew and neglect. He could hear the others coughing and choking as they ran through the deepening piles of slush. The smell was foul, making it hard for them to breathe. Their feet were uncertain, and he heard a splash behind him. He turned to find Eumaeus pulling himself to his feet, smeared in the disgusting mire that gathered constantly around their legs.

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Chapter 23: Ye Who Enter Here

The story finished as the four of us arrived at the far end. Eumaeus whistled softly. “It was you who freed Promethea? I’d had no idea. I’d always heard Heracles had been the one responsible. Certainly, that was the way the stories all told it.” He was quiet for a moment. “Though the man himself was always reluctant to discuss the venture, I’d been told.”

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Chapter 22: For the Straightforward Pathway Had Been Lost

The sand swept around the ruins of the temple. Out here, in the depths of the desert, there was no human life. Once, a long time ago, a tributary of the Nile had drawn through this place. It had died before Egypt was born. The windswept temple, its black surface coated in a thick rime of sand, was the only sign that anyone had ever lived there. I slowly climbed the dune, lifting my hand to ward off the harsh sun. From the top of the dune, I could see into the temple, the darkness intense. I took a deep breath, and looked slowly around, the endless dunes rolling off in every direction.

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