The Gaping Maw was not what Cassander Vaughn expected it to be.
Being one of the Silent Sea's sailors, she was already familiar with vast, desolate views, and eerie cries of drowned ones. However The Maw concentrated more on height and giving the feeling of being trapped. It was an enormous cave that was said to have made its own weather, but it still gave the impression of being stuck in someone's throat.
Along with Captain Rhodes, the group was being watched over by a nervous man named Quartermaster Adler. They descended in a heavy-duty elevator that was installed in the huge jawbone. The air turned hot and humid and had a scent of old books and something similar to electricity. And then there was the Breath—the Last Breath of Aethelrex—a continuous, warm wind coming from the dark below. It not only changed the air but also the user's mind.
Cassandra was looking out with the cold bone clasped firmly in her hand. She was the one selected due to her bizarre thing—the Choir's memories implanted in her brain. Adler thought that they might be instrumental in solving the wreck that is left in the Maw.
The Tongue Altar is located a mile downhill, Captain Rhodes said, her voice coming loud and clear through the helmet. We are going to set up camp at the Epiglottis Ridge. Keep inside the dampener field. Freaky kind of stuff here that can do far more than just cause illness. It has the ability to alter your body's functions. A few people have just walked off. Their bodies are still alive and doing things that no one is aware of.
The team included Taste-Guard, Carvers, and helpers from Adler, and they stepped onto the tough flesh of the bottom lip. The ground was very strange, it felt like huge, frozen taste buds. The Breath was very loud and strong around them and Cassandra began to hear words in the noise.
…eating…
…bad taste…
…take me home…
It was not the sorrowful songs of the Drowned Choir. It was broken, basic. Like the very last sounds of the dying sense.
Adler was running around Captain Rhodes in a suit that was not his size. The ancient scrolls say that the taste spots near the molar-falls should have vivid memories of the origin—the 'Flavor of Form.' Once we have them, we can use them for comparison with what we already know. Very important for the Cardinal.
I'm the one bringing you the samples in a safe manner, not discussing their significance, Rhodes said, looking around.
Adler got it! Knowing them means getting them safely! If we screw this up, it could cause a wave of Breath that would drive everyone mad!
Cassandra ignored their voices. She allowed the Breath to pass through her. The Choir in her head was like seaweed. A new memory popped up, not hers.
She wasn't Cassandra. She was little, frightened, and was holding a tool that was simultaneously a knife and a prayer. There were people around her, chanting in a long-forgotten language. Before them was a wall of living, shining flesh—Aethelrex's cheek. It was smooth, flawless, and glowing. It vibrated with a song of creation. The leader placed her hand on the flesh. It was warm and comforting. Then, with a scream of both joy and terror, she stabbed the tool in.
A massive, shuddering spasm. The singing changed to a scream that did not spare anything from its shake. The very first cut. Not from a dying god, but a living one. A betrayal that had a metallic and sad taste.
Cassandra drew a sharp breath, backing away from the railing. The memory was so vivid that she could feel the warm blood on her hands and smell the ozone of the pain.
Vaughn! Captain Rhodes was there immediately, holding her arm. Tell me. What did you feel?
Cassandra looked at her with the eyes full of someone else's grief. It wasn't dead when they started. It was alive. It treated them well. The first cut was a surprise.
Rhodes tightened her grip. However, her face behind the visor was unreadable. The Echo reveals a lot of things. Not all of them are true. Some are only the god's nightmare.
This was a memory, Cassandra whispered. It's in the Choir. It's in the Breath. It's the first note of the scream.
Adler came dashing with his tablet. A sensory memory that corresponds with our data? Wonderful! The note of the feelings—'love,' 'surprise.' That might indicate the presence of more feelings in that particular point. Getting there we should get a sample.
He saw data, which was not a bad thing. Cassandra felt nauseous.
A rumble shook the Maw. It was not the Breath but a deep, low shake from the earth. A light started to glow from the dark side of the Maw near the Tongue Altar.
That's not where the maps show it, Rhodes said with a frown. She used her helmet for a closer view. It's alive, but not like any god stuff I've met before. And It's quite rapid in its growth.
Cassandra peered into the blackness. The light revealed a weird, lovely thing—a tower of bone and flesh covered in vibrant mushrooms. It wasn't made by Sanctum, but it was a living, breathing, and a protector.
Mycelian, she said. The Symbiotes. They've come to the Altar to build.
The Taste-Guard put themselves in a position to fight with their arms ready. The Sacred Butchers and the god's immune system were about to fight in the throat of their dying creator.