As they passed through the manor's gates, Fela noticed small details that presented themselves upon closer inspection. Now that they were actually inside, the fields that had looked so carefully manicured were, in fact, in a state of mild disrepair. She could clearly see weeds pushing through the flower bed, and some of the hedge bushes appeared to be slowly collapsing under their own weight, shapeless and neglected.

The path below them was paved stone, and it led right to the large manor that was fast approaching. Its bulk was made even more imposing by its placement, set atop a ridge higher up on the mountain. As they got closer, Fela noted the rich, dark color of the building's wood. It was unlike anything she'd seen before. Huddled by the entrance was a mass of striders, cold and still. Fela found herself impressed by the Valle's fleet of vehicles: they looked bulky, fit for all-terrain travel. Without potencia, however, they were useless- just big hunks of metal.

"Look." Viktor sat with furrowed brows, staring directly at the house. Fela dragged her attention away from the striders to match his gaze, and let out an involuntary gasp when she noticed it too. It was a desperate sound, with none of the composure that she'd been trying to build throughout her entire trip.

They both simply sat there, gaping at the manor. Now that its wrongness had been revealed, she couldn't unsee it. Turning to Viktor was no help- the reassurance she was looking for was missing on his face.

The longer Fela looked, the worse it got. The house's dark wood wasn't some exotic variety- instead, it was just one of many telltale signs of destruction. The dark color was the result of a massive blanket of soot that covered the facade, streaked through here and and there by trails of silver-grey ash. A fire had ravaged the place at some point, and had only left a hint of the manor's original color.

They were close enough for other details to finally show. Most of the windows appeared to be blown out too, amidst other visual evidence of structural stress. It was a miracle, Fela thought, with a sense of detachment, that the roof hadn't caved in.

Even before the strider had stopped moving, Viktor was already leaping off the strider and hurrying inside, despite the questionable integrity of the house. What had appeared to be whole from afar was now a shambling mess. A combination of neglect and abuse had left the manor in total disrepair. Fela could do nothing else but follow, her nerves on edge, heart hammering.

Largest supply of potencia in the entire range... Viktor's words repeated themselves back at her. She found herself murmuring them. Amidst a growing suspicion, there was a very primal sense curiosity, a fascination with the grotesque that kept her moving inside. Fela stepped into the shadowy foyer, her apprehension at its peak.

Fela ventured deeper inside, looking for Viktor. She passed blackened furniture, unblemished sections revealing their ornate quality, and wallpaper ruined beyond recognition. Stepping out of the manor's foyer left Fela standing in one of grandest rooms she had ever been in. Despite the wreckage, the manor's ballroom was still very impressive, a place that Fela had believed only existed in stories.

She paused there, listening for Viktor, but heard nothing but the shifting of the house around her. Hesitating, she decided to forgo the large, unstable-looking double staircase on both sides of the room, and headed for the doors at the far end. Sighing, she led deeper into the mansion.

Fela rushed through hallways, passing rooms full of priceless furniture. Everything, from the occasional curving staircase, to the tapestries that lined the walls, were in various states of falling apart. Although the destruction looked worse on the outside, there was still no doubt that massive damage had been done. Most of the objects she came across were ruined beyond repair.

Occasionally, she could hear footsteps ahead of her, and Fela used these traces of Viktor to determine her path. Eventually, she made her way to the back of the manor, where she found herself standing in a large dining room. On the far side of the space was an impressive set of double doors, still swinging slightly after just being opened. Fela strode across the room and through the doors, which opened into a patio of sorts. The space reminded her of a greenhouse, yet there were no plants, and the glass paneling that formed the walls and ceiling were huge and intricate. It was like being inside a massive glass bottle.

Fela realized that the structure was an add-on, attacked to the back of the manor. The large glass dome, with its delicate glass panels fitted together, seemed designed to allow light in, but not the wilder elements. The deck below her feet was a thick wooden structure, dotted with lounge chairs and small tables. But at the center was a large pool of water, now empty. It reminded her of the pond in Viktor's home. There she found him standing at the edge. He was facing away, looking down at the ground. Fela stepped out onto the deck to reach him, but the sound of her footsteps made him whirl around. She was almost next to him when he pushed her away from the pool, herding her back the way she came. He said nothing, but his eyes were wild, rolling about in a face tight with horror. Instinctively, she pushed back, frightened by his behavior. "What are you doing-" suddenly, she went mute.

It was only for a second or two did she catch a glimpse of the bottom of the pond. Amidst the noxious black liquid, was a display that sucked the air straight from her lungs. Fela couldn't even scream. There was only enough time for a quick glimpse of a hand, a leg, the tattered remains of a coat before Viktor overpowered her and dragged them both away. Fela's mouth was moving soundlessly, a fishlike open-and-close. It was a vision of death, out in the open, present in her suddenly impossible reality. She didn't feel hysterical, or even disgusted. Instead, Fela felt a dark chill that seeped into her at the first sight of the bodies, piled like sandbags. She felt hollow, absent of emotion, rather than full of it. And somehow, that felt worse.

He rushed her into the house, but Viktor was barely holding on himself. Unlike her, he had gotten a full view of the disaster. There must have been at least a dozen people thrown down there, to be eaten away by the corruption. He wondered absently how many of them lived in the manor, how many maids, groundskeepers, cooks worked here. How many visitors it usually received- how many of them had been there at the wrong time, on the wrong day. They stood there, recovering from the view, the remainder of a Master's life in all its twisted glory.

Eventually, Viktor spoke. "It got into the water system." When she looked at him, he was facing away from the outside light, his hand on the blackened wall. "It must have reached every basin and bath in this house." He said quietly. "It's likely that a fire was started, too." Viktor didn't know why he was bringing it up. Maybe it helped to take a more analytical approach to their surroundings, hiding his reactions behind a clinical facade. He focused on the wall, on his breathing- anything but the afterimages left behind his eyes.