Noah stared at the shimmering blue construct around him, the Heart’s emotionless voice rolling over his ears like a distant thunderstorm.

There’s no way out?

That thought lasted approximately half a second.

“Well, that’s a load of bullshit.” The Heart didn’t respond to that. Maybe it was offended, but it was probably more likely that it simply hadn’t been phrased as a question. Noah crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared into the glowing diagram of the Citadel floating before him. “I know for a fact that isn’t true. You’re lying to me.”

“The Heart is not capable of lies. This interface can only query the information given to it at the level of clearance you possess.”

“Right. But you clearly just lied,” Noah said. “You said the Gate was destroyed and there isn’t any way to find the Citadel. But not all that long ago, I met a treasure seeker called Sebastian. Someone who definitely wasn’t from here. He was from Obsidia. And he found this place. That means there’s a way in. So are you lying, or is your information wrong? Are some of the defensive mechanisms not in the state you think they are?”

“No,” the Heart said immediately. “All defenses that were reported to be active have not have status changes. The records on their activity do not show anomalies. There has not been a breach to any core systems.”

Noah couldn’t help but notice that the Heart had ignored the first part of his question. His eyes narrowed.

“Lying by omission is still lying,” Noah said. “How did Sebastian get here? Because, if everything you’re telling me is true, then Sebastian could not have possibly existed. There shouldn’t have been a way for him to get here.”

The Heart was silent for a long second.

“The Heart is unable to answer your query.”

“Why?”

“You lack sufficient clearance.”

Noah’s lips pressed thin. There was definitely some kind of connection to Obsidia. That much was obvious. He wouldn’t have had a way to know that for certain if Sebastian hadn’t somehow made it here — but he had.

But the Heart isn’t going to tell me whatever the hell that way out is until I somehow convince it to give me clearance. Do I really just have to go looking for one of the dead Researchers in hopes of finding his credentials?

Somehow, I’m not optimistic enough to hope that the Devourer just has all the remains of the people it ate sitting around inside it, undamaged. That’s probably all lost or destroyed. Lovely. Just lovely.

“Right. And where was the last time you spoke to a Researcher qualified to ask those kinds of questions?” Noah asked.

“You are not cleared for this information.”

Great. So literally everything about the fancy leaders is restricted information. Weren’t these guys researchers? This Citadel was supposed to be completely impenetrable to outside forces. That, at least, seems to be what they think. So why are they being so tight-lipped about information when the only ones that should have had access to it would be their own people?

Something stinks here.

I’ve got a few hours to try and figure out just what it is before the Devourer stops acting as a battery. Nothing can hide forever. A few hours should be enough to find at least some kind of crack in this things armor.

***

A few hours was not enough.

Noah’s best attempts to pry a hole in the mystery that was the Citadel ended in what could only be described as utter failure. The Heart was very good at telling him no. It stubbornly refused to give up a single scrap of information on anything related to the leaders of the researchers, much less alternative entrances to the Citadel.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Whoever had created the imbuements that powered the Heart had been one paranoid bastard. As far as Noah could tell, the Heart didn’t actually have any desires or goals of its own. It was simply running on imbued commands, like some incredibly advanced computer program.

He’d never even known Imbuements could get down to that level of complexity. Now he rather wished that they couldn’t. Noah’s knowledge of imbuements was far too weak for him to find a way around the Heart’s restrictions.

Perhaps, if Todd or Revin or Garina had been here, there would have been a chance that someone could have found a way around the restrictions.

But they weren’t.

Noah’s main talent of bashing his head against the wall until something broke wasn’t going to work when the wall literally couldn’t take damage. He just didn’t have a way to trick something that wasn’t actually thinking.

The Heart was simply working off the parameters it had — and those parameters had clearly been set up to stop people a hell of a lot smarter than Noah from working their way past them.

And, unfortunately, Noah couldn’t just go smashing the Heart to pieces. It was still the control room to the Citadel. And even as limited as it was, the benefit of having access to it far eclipsed the annoyance it was causing him by refusing to give any information on a way out of here.

That was why, when 4 hours had passed and the lights shimmering in the darkness surrounding Noah sputtered out to herald the return of the Devourer, he stood waiting for it with a pensive look upon his face.

The shadows peeled away from the walls like old wrapping paper as the huge centipede’s body shifted and clattered, writhing across every surface of the room around him. Its huge head rose up over the platform to look down at Noah.

“The terms of our deal have been completed,” the Devourer said. “You have no more hours left.”

What is this, a PC Café?

“I know,” Noah said.

“Do not attempt to change your promise,” the Devourer said. “You will get no more from me. There are no overtime bonuses.”

“Does that mean you’d work overtime if — oh, never mind. I know. I’m not going to ask for more. That would be unfair, and I’m not that shameless,” Noah said through a sigh. He paused for a moment. “Though I am shameless enough to ask for a ride back out of here. I really don’t want to wander through the Citadel for the rest of the day when you can do it in a few minutes at most.”

The Devourer glared at Noah. “Why would I do that? It was not part of our contract.”

“Would you prefer I stay here, in your home?” Noah tilted his head to the side. “I have more than enough to keep me occupied until tomorrow, when you owe me another 4 hours. And I can make quite the disturbance. You’re not going to get much peace with me here.”

“Prayer,” the small centipede monster muttered.

Both Noah and the Devourer ignored it.

“Where do you seek to go?” the Devourer asked after a long second. “I will not forever be your personal transportation… but I will aid you this time.”

“I was hoping you might know where some of the leadership of the researchers resided,” Noah said. “I presume that you ate them at some point or another.”

“I did,” the Devourer said, a note of pride in its voice. “None remain. I am the Devourer of the Lost Citadel. No living beings remain in this place other than me. Well, until you arrived.”

“Until Sebastian arrived,” Noah corrected. “Speaking of which, do you know how he got here? The Heart wouldn’t tell me, but I know for a fact that there’s some other way to enter the Citadel beyond the Gate.”

The Devourer’s mandibles clicked. “There are other entrances. None were suitable to me. I could not use them.”

“What were they?” Noah asked, a grin crossing his lips. The Devourer might have been the Heart — but it wasn’t constrained by the same limitations. “Can I use them?”

“No,” the Devourer replied instantly. “You could not. There are two other paths from the Citadel to Obsidia. The first is only one direction — from the outside, in. Energy sinks that pull power from the outside world into the Citadel to power its passive functions. People can slip through them, but fighting back against the flow of magic is impossible. It would tear even me apart.”

Noah frowned. “Okay. What about the other one?”

“You would require the master key of one of the lead researchers,” The Devourer said. “That is the only way.”

“The ones you ate,” Noah concluded. His lips went thin. “Well, shit. I suppose I’ll just have to start breaking things until I find what I want. How unfortunate. I was really hoping I could keep this place in one piece. I suppose I can always try to put it back together after I’m done.”

“You are going to destroy the Citadel?” the Devourer asked, a note of alarm in its voice.

“That’s a strong word.” Noah scratched at his chin. “This place seems incredible. I don’t want to completely ruin it, but I’ll burn it to the ground before I let it stand between me and my students. That’s a promise. So if there isn’t any other way out… I’m make one.”

The Devourer stared at Noah for a long second. Then its mandibles twitched.

“I may not have been entirely truthful.”

Noah blinked. “What do you mean?”

“There may be one researcher whom I did not consume. A traitorous man who did not dedicate himself properly to the cause. He sealed himself within an Access Point and never left. Even though his life force must have run out a long time ago… I have never been able to open the room. His body still remains within it.”

“And this researcher was one of the leaders? He had a key?”

“He did,” the Devourer said, but there was unease in its voice.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Noah asked. A grin slipped across his lips. “Take me there. I love robbing graves.”