Soaring19: Inner Universe

Preface:

Art makes nature more perfect.

—Joshua Reynolds

[Part ① · A Clean Chair]

"As agreed."

Fickwood still gave a thumbs-up. When the drill reached a depth of [-500M], he took out six more photographs.

He did as before, clapped his hands, and chanted the spell to summon his Soul Might true form. The upper half of a black-and-white vulture emerged. Like Fickwood, it had a bird's head and a human body, and every part of it exuded an air of age and solemnity. Its feathers had lost their sheen and hung loose, as though they might fall out at any moment and leave it in a wretched, dying state. A layer of skin had peeled from its beak, which was covered in pitted black spots. Only the feathers on its back and chest still shone—

—Following Fickwood's gestures, it began to manipulate the photographs. In the whirlwind, too swift for the naked eye to follow, some more of the Quickblade warriors returned to the real world.

Xue Ming responded to Fickwood this time. There were no elixirs in his spacesuit, and he had no way to communicate with Fickwood directly—his thumbs-up meant he would continue to honor their agreement as before.

A minute later, the speed of the Abbot No. 3 slowed noticeably—

"—This is the hardest part. We've reached the gates of hell." Fickwood turned his head, watching the instruments and hoping the Gunsmith could read his lips.

"Beyond a depth of 1,200 meters, outside the Flower Garden of Life, there seems to be a shell you can neither see nor touch. It's a little harder than the orange peel of the crust, and a little hotter than the lava layer. Gunsmith, be ready for anything. We're close now. Very, very close."

Fickwood emphasized—

"—Once we break through