At last they exited into a small unlit room. The spiral tunnel had been mostly unlit except for light from a few side passages and rooms that joined the tunnel early on. The Rod of Tommus, with its glowing ruby-and-blue sapphire gem ribbons, had provided their light, albeit they could all see in the dark. The small room had a metal wall on the far side with a very funky door that looked something like a cross between a bank vault and a submarine hatch. With his demon sight, Tom could see that it was crisscrossed with magical energy and runes. However, these were DoomNet style runes, not some runes from a foreign god.
“The opening process is a bit complicated,” Phaestus said. “Völund and I both know it, but the easiest method is to use your Rod. It is, or was, keyed to the locks, and given that only the owner of the Wand — er, Rod, can utilize the Rod, it’s a good key.”
“With the Rod once again active, you should be able to reset the key, as we discussed upstairs, simply by inserting it into the keyhole,” Völund said.
“So was Orcus like the warden or something?” Tom asked.
“Exactly,” Völund agreed.
“Just place the head of the Rod in this hole,” Phaestus instructed.
Tom shrugged and complied. A rush of extremely confusing information suddenly flooded his mind; massive amounts of data and statistics that he could not possibly process in the moments they stood there.
“Simply will the door to open,” Völund instructed Tom.
Tom willed the door to open and suddenly light and magical runes began coruscating across the door and frame, even as the large metal submarine hatch wheel began to spin. As it spun, Tom tried to understand the information he had access to; he stopped as soon as the door cracked open. That information was too confusing, and quite honestly, frightening. He saw hints of really bad things; however, he could not determine if they were bad things about the system as a whole, or bad things about the inhabitants of Tartarus.
They went through the door, a crackling field of coruscating light dancing over the doorway as each individual stepped through. Tom stepped through and felt the field permeating him, scanning him, filtering him. It was extremely odd; particularly given that he was now getting feedback from the Rod telling him the results of the scans. Tom shook his head and continued into the room beyond.
The door opened into a very large chamber that was dimly lit, as if from a single white bulb very high up on the ceiling, which he couldn’t quite make out without kicking his demon sight up to full power, and even then it seemed rather murky. Suddenly, Tom realized that there actually was no ceiling; this light came from the Rod of Tommus and Tartarus itself. They were actually staring up into a vast extradimensional gateway, extending what seemed to be a near infinite distance upward through the multiverse.
“Holy shit,” Tom found himself whispering in awe.
“The Oubliette,” Tizzy said.
“The hole in reality, down through which Zeus tossed the Titans,” Phaestus said, nodding.
“We are at the bottom of an infinitely deep pit,” Tizzy stated.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Tom whispered, even though he somehow knew it was true.
“It is actually only infinite in one direction, and that is upwards,” Völund stated.
Tom looked at the smith, puzzled.
“There are ways for certain gods, in coordination with the operators of the Oubliette, to open the pit”—he pointed upward—“up there, from any plane in the multiverse, including the outer ones.”
“However, it’s a one-way portal. You can only put stuff into the portal, because it is then sucked down the infinitely long tunnel until the prisoner hits bottom,” Phaestus added.
“No way to climb out. It is impossible to detect the one-way portal from inside the tunnel, because there are literally infinite possible locations the portal could have been opened from. It’s basically a very complex extradimensional wormhole that ends here,” Völund finished.
“Once here, the Oubliette operators must contain, restrain and process the prisoner,” Darg-Krallnom said.
“And that can be very tricky,” Tizzy commented, taking a puff from his pipe.
“Indeed,” Völund agreed rather ominously.
“So what happens with this processing?” Tom asked.
“Basically, the prisoners are analyzed and then held until a suspension cell can be readied for them,” Phaestus said. “At that point, they are interned in Tartarus.” He pointed to the far side of the room, which lit up as he spoke.
Where the architect pointed stood a massive gate or doorway, more than a thousand feet tall. Tom blinked, trying to look at it. It appeared to be some seriously funky, ornate, H. R. Giger-esque door. The difference was that the door seemed to be changing, morphing to display other forms, intricacies and monstrous humanoid forms on it, even as he looked at it.
“I am pretty damn sure the Jilted Bride knows nothing about this,” Darflow Skragnarth marveled. From what Tom could gather, only the most senior commanders had ever been down here. From the expression on Zelda’s face, he was pretty sure she had never been here.
“She knows of Tartarus, of course, just not where it is, or who’s in charge. I should think that would have changed her calculus four thousand years ago,” Phaestus said.
“I think Sammael has a pretty good idea,” Tizzy added casually.
Völund and Phaestus turned to stare at him.
“What?” Tizzy shrugged. “I didn’t say anything; it’s just that in casual conversations over the millennia, he has mentioned certain things that make me think he at least suspects. In particular, he seems to want to put the Demiurge here once he defeats him.”
“Oh hell, no!” Völund shook his head from side to side with a look of horror.
“I don’t think that is a battle that will be over any time soon, so we don’t need to worry about it,” Phaestus said to calm the smith.
“Speaking of prioritizing worries — are we going to stand around gawking or are we going to silence that stupid bell?” Arg-nargoloth asked.
Phaestus and Völund both nodded, looking rather abashed. They headed to another door to the right of where they had entered, similar to the one they’d just come through. Phaestus gestured for Tom to open the door as before. Tom complied, and the door hissed open with the smell of stale air.
The all piled into a forty-foot-square room which was lined with all sorts of gothic cyberpunk equipment, again very reminiscent of H. R. Giger. Actually, he thought, it was sort of a cross between the Command Center, the Tech Command Center, and a Giger alien spaceship. Tom used his demon sight to make sure there were no creepy acid-dripping Xenomorphs hanging out in the room.
Phaestus waved his hand over a panel near the door, causing the monitors in the room to flicker to life. Tom felt a vibration from the Rod alerting him to the activation of the “Tartarus Processing and Control Center.” It was odd how that name just came to his mind.
Völund, Phaestus, Darg-Krallnom, Arg-nargoloth, Roth Tar Gorefest, Delg Narmoloth and Helga Dourtooth all took what Tom assumed were preassigned console positions — all were first generation commanders. Zog Darthelm, his favorite Sith lord D’Orc, also took a seat.
Zog was unusual; he was both first and second generation. His father was a D’Orc, which would make him second generation, but he had been born before his father had ascended (or descended as the case was), and Zog later came to fame and also ascended. It had been confusing at first; mainly because of the way he’d introduced himself. However, Tom got the story while they were reliving the battle with the Knights of Chaos.