In the light of my flashlight, the first stalagmites and stalactites appeared. Like long daggers, the yellowish rock teeth grew from the ceiling and out of the floor. One or the other had broken off without any debris lying around. Strange. The erratic dripping of moisture that beaded from them filled the dark cave with its echoes. In its tangle, I could see no more than ten paces. With caution, I crept through the stone labyrinth. The splashing sounds of my boots could not be avoided. As a precaution, I drew my revolver; this level was rightly classified as "Class 5 — unsafe".

That was the reason why I had never visited dark mines or stalactite caves with the family in the Frontrooms — the reality. The danger was too great that Marc, who shared my genetic defect, would accidentally end up in an unexplored corner or with a careless move there in the Backrooms. To this day, he hated me for always being overly cautious. In turn, he had survived so far. Eventually, he would understand.

In front of me, between the forest of rocky crags, a still, almost circular lake appeared, shimmering bluish from within. If the records of the Major Explorer Group, M.E.G. for short, were correct, I was on the right track. As vast as this level was, it at least did not change constantly, as various others did.

Slowly I walked along the shore until I reached a stalagmite in which someone had carved a rough arrow with a clear "K" and like a skull underneath. From here on, great caution was advised as I approached the abandoned cave town of Kavragost. A dangerous mission without an escort, but I needed no witnesses. A sinister path of chipped out rock teeth led in serpentine lines deeper into Level 8.

Muffled footsteps sounded behind me. I turned quickly and raised the gun. In the light of the lamp, the corridor lay deserted before me. Ten breaths later I crept on with caution. Again I heard uneven pattering and jerked the flashlight around. Nothing but emptiness. Curses. My pursuer could easily dive sideways between the stone jags.

What to do? Move on or lie in wait? So far he had not attacked me. That spoke for certain intelligence of the opponent. Not a dumb Backrooms monster.

"Hey. Come on out, I heard you," I whispered in English, so I wouldn't attract the attention of every creature in the vicinity.

Silence. No one showed themselves. It had been worth a try.

How far away was he? Ten steps at the most, otherwise I wouldn't have heard anything. Hmm ... What you can do, I can do, too. With that, I extinguished the lamp and took a step to the side behind a man-sized rock. Let's see who had more patience.

In my mind, I counted slowly as not to lose my sense of time in the absolute blackness. As I approached 500, a minimal glow of light appeared on the path. Barely perceptible breathing sounds and crunching footsteps followed. A human silhouette with a covered flashlight crept past my hiding place. Holding my breath, I waited a few seconds until it was ten feet ahead.

Taking careful aim, I turned on the light, "Stop! Don't move!"

A figure jerked around in the sharp cone of light. A man, maximum 6 feet tall with shaggy red beard. His equipment consisted of an almost floor-length coat, backpack and sturdy boots. A weapon could not be made out. He held his arm blinded in front of his face, so that I did not recognize any details.

"Don't shoot. I work for Async," he replied in a hoarse voice, blinking over his arm.

"You'll have to do better than that for me. Who are you and why are you sneaking after me?"

"Agent Rian O'keeffe. I'm your back-up."

"Huh? Back-up?"

"If it gets you, they want me to finish the mission or bring back whatever you found."

"Sounds weird." I didn't trust the young fellow an inch. "Why haven't they put you right alongside me as a partner?"

"Well, if you die, I could just wait for the situation to calm down and then salvage the remains."

"Hmm ..." That was quite in line with the crude logic with which Async planned the missions. But I didn't like it. "All right. What's the thirtieth key out of five?"

"A-K-F 21," he replied, as if shot out of a pistol.

This meant that we had both identified ourselves as employees of the Foundation. There were around 500,000 question-and­-answer combinations that were used for this purpose — as long as you mastered the logic behind them.

"All right Rian. We'll go on together. No hiding." He started to reply. Snappishly, I raised my hand. "No discussion — and you go ahead. Alternatively, you get lost and don't follow me anymore."

He looked at me for seconds out of his blue eyes and seemed to wrestle with himself. In the end, he nodded silently, turned and slowly walked ahead.

↼⇁

Half an hour later, during which we did not exchange a word and followed the dark path, the forest of columns ended as if cut off.

"Wow," escaped my unwanted companion as the abandoned cave city spread out below us. "I didn't expect that."

Our flashlights illuminated only a tiny section of the dilapidated buildings. Glowing moses on the cave ceiling twenty yards away and indeterminate sources of light in the city suggested an infinite mass of single-story houses. Walls of rough rock and empty window openings disappeared into an endless labyrinth in the distance.

"How big is this city and who built it all?" Awe resonated in Rian's voice.

"About one square miles. That corresponds to the area of a medium-sized small town in Germany. It's all abandoned. Well, at least the builders don't live here anymore. Nobody knows who they were."

"Facelings?"

"I don't think so. You'll see."

With that, I strode down the shallow slope on a gravel path toward the front most houses. This was not my first visit to the gloomy ghost town, but I would have gladly done without the following. Secretly, I wondered about his question. As an agent, he should be able to recite the facts and locations of the most important hundred levels by heart.

Once downstairs, we stepped into one of the wide alleys. The houses had only one floor, but the walls were easily four yards high. The windowsills were at our head height, the doors measured twice the size of human buildings.

"Giants?"

"Obviously. They must have been over ten feet tall." With my revolver drawn, I rambled on. "Didn't you bring a gun?"

"I do, but I'm not into firearms."

"But?"

He threw back the side of his coat and let me see the hilt of a Japanese katana.

"A sword? Are you serious? You'll have to ..."

His foot sprang forward. A violent kick squeezed the air from my lungs as I flew backward and landed on my back. With an inhuman screech, a rag-shrouded shadow crashed from above onto the weathered cobblestones. Exactly at the spot where I had been standing moments before. The creature sprang up like a jackknife. A bundle of putrid gray flesh, sharp claws, and strangely bent limbs lunged at Rian in a flash. In a shadowy motion, he stepped aside, fluidly drew the katana, and swooshed it down smoothly. The zombie-like creature stumbled three steps and, with a smacking sound, split in half down the middle. My companion had cut it in two seamlessly.

Something moved in the corner of my eye. Without thinking, I drew my revolver and fired a thunderous shot into one of the window openings. The head of another creature, disfigured with a crooked jaw, burst. The remains landed slapping in front of me.

"Behind you!" shouted Rian, who at that moment split an onrushing opponent lengthwise with his blade, ducked, and let the two halves of his body fly overhead.

Without getting up, I turned belly-down and fired three untargeted shots at a creature covered with greasy hair and a dirty dress that rushed toward me. No use. The momentum of the critter carried it on. At the last moment I threw my body to the side, took aim, and again burst the enemy's head with a hammering shot.

Silence returned. Between me and Rian lay the beastly smelling remains of the monsters. Undefinable liquids dripped down on us. We looked at each other with a heavy breath.

"Thank you for your quick response. Are you all right?," I asked him to say something.

"No harm done. What were those critters?"

"Wretches. The zombies of the Backrooms. A real plague. Lurking practically everywhere here. Tell me, is this your first time here?"

"Yes. Sorry. Fresh from Los Alamos. Graduated with top marks."

"Oh great. They're sending an inexperienced rookie to observe me on a mission in a Class 5 zone? That doesn't make sense." In one swift motion, I drew my revolver, cocked the hammer, and pointed the barrel at his head, "So again, from the top — what the hell is your assignment?"

...

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