Chapter Text
It was around one in the afternoon when the first of the selected Champions arrived, and with them, the blare of fanfare from the Royal Band filled the halls to signal the occasion. Despite Paya’s better wishes, Link had been in attendance for that – justifying it with “it’s a bad look if I’m not there, what with being the Hero of Time and everybody’s talking about me.”
She and the others forgot that he’d been effectively adopted by the King of his time, and that the training to be around nobles included learning how the minds of diplomats and bureaucrats worked. Paya had been trained in a similar manner, being a Sheikah, so she couldn’t begrudge him that. Despite her better judgement.
It would have been better for him not to show up there at all. Because at the moment he was still a Deku Scrub.
(He just wanted an excuse to leave that room. He’d stay in the halls of the Castle, honest.)
In any case, the arrival was met with some anticipation. Quite a lot of it, actually, from the Princess’s end. Upon the arrival making themselves known, she made a beeline right for the Sanctum, supposedly. She more than likely knew who it was.
More than once, from their position on the upper level of the Sanctum, Link could see the Princess’s eyes shift nervously to the door, and he elbowed Paya.
“Who do you think’s got the Princess in such a tizzy?”
Paya examined the girl, and shrugged, quietly signing back. ‘I don’t know. It’s not Mipha, because she’s already here… going from what I know of the Champions…’
Meanwhile, while Paya and Link were having their silent conversation, the King was sat in his throne, bouncing his leg in anticipation. The Princess saw the motion out of the corner of her eye, and looked at him.
“Father, are you all right?” She inquired.
“Oh, yes,” Rhoam cleared his throat, turning to look up at where she stood. “The anticipation is becoming rather a bit… unbearable.” He looked ahead at the door. “Even if time wasn’t a luxury we couldn’t afford… I must confess I’m worried about what might be the product of this meeting.”
His daughter briefly looked nervous. “Do you think she’ll say no?”
He easily waved that away. “No, not in the slightest.” He inhaled. “The ones we’ve selected are honorable folk – willing to fight and die for Hyrule’s people. I have no doubt they’ll rise to the challenge. Beyond that, the excavation under the Castle has proceeded swimmingly. All we need now is to get the turrets moved into position, and Doctor Purah to craft a weapon capable of removing the Triforce from Ganon. No… my worry stems from the fact that, as with everyone else, they will need to be brought into the fold.” He swallowed. “Brought up to speed on everything… Including that which I have wrought.”
The Princess’s eyes widened, and she stammered. “F-Father, I-“
“Please,” Rhoam sighed. “Don’t mince words. I know that I’ve been cruel to you.” He looked her right in the eye, and his eyes watered slightly. “And I am both horrified and ashamed that it took a situation such as this for me to finally attempt to do something about that.”
“You were trying to help me,” The Princess was surprised at how quick the response left her mouth. “You know I couldn’t just stand by if the Calamity attacked. I-I understand your fear-“
Rhoam sighed, slumping in his chair somewhat. “I’m not afraid for myself, Zelda. I’m afraid for you.” He confessed, causing her to freeze up. “And I haven’t been very good at letting it out in the proper manner.”
“You think she’s going to say something?” The Princess swallowed.
The King let out a rueful laugh, looking ahead in defeat. “I know she is.”
Mere feet away, Paya and Link continued talking.
‘It’s not Revali because that man was almost completely despised by everyone,’ Paya listed off. ‘Plus the fact that he’s not a she, and they’re most definitely talking about a woman. Mipha’s already here. Daruk is definitely not a woman. So that leaves-‘
The fanfare started up from the trumpet players once more, as the Herald-at-Arms (a woman a bit on the younger side with a glorious, lion-like mane of black hair, wearing armor so loud in color it was expressly designed to command attention, as befitting her job title) stepped through the doors into the sanctum, and walked into the center of the Triforce symbol carved into the floor.
The Herald crossed her arms by the wrists, as she cleared her throat, and boomed with a voice deceptively deep.
“Your majesty,” The Herald announced. “Attendees of the Court – presenting Her Excellency, Chief of the Gerudo People, Proud Daughter of the Desert Sands, and Sister of a Thousand Sisters, Lady Urbosa.”
“Ooh, lots of titles, very imperious.” Link signed, before a contingent of highly trained, tall, muscular women from the brutal desert wastes came marching in, all in unison. Then, they parted, allowing the woman herself to emerge to the forefront.
“Well, isn’t this quite the welcome?” Urbosa’s eyes searched the Sanctum, as she had quite a crooked smile on her face. Her eyes landed on the Princess, and the look softened. “Hello, Princess.”
“Urbosa!” Immediately, she underwent a transformation – unlike that even when she was studying Guardian tech. She seemed to become a little girl, eagerly leaning on the railing, before she glanced at Rhoam.
The King, however, waved it off with a smile. “I’ve been stifling you on these things for too long. Go.”
Urbosa double-took, before the Princess practically bounded down the stairs, running into Urbosa’s arms – or, rather, abs, considering the height difference.
Link felt jealous. Not of any one of them, just in general. He’d like a hug. “Hey, Pay-“
“Not right now.” She rolled her eyes, evidently knowing what he was about to ask. “You’re made of wood.”
“But Paya!”
“But splinters!”
“I-“ Urbosa looked the younger Sheikah’s way, and frowned, furrowing her eyebrows as something appeared amiss to her. “I received your letter,” She said to King Rhoam. “I came as fast as I could. You want me to pilot one of those machines you excavated?”
“In time,” Rhoam replied. “We should wait and see if the other recipients will arrive before moving forward.”
Urbosa raised an eyebrow. “Other recipients?”
Rhoam nodded. “I half expected Revali or Daruk to arrive first. No offense to you, Chief Urbosa, but one of them can fly, and the other can roll around at will. Not that your arrival is late, by any means.”
“A Gerudo is late, nor is she early,” Link snorted as he signed. “She arrives precisely when she means to.”
Urbosa looked his way, then bit out a laugh, before pointing at him. “Who’s that?”
Rhoam looked Link’s way, then sighed in thought. “It might be prudent to give the… bare-bones explanation, for now.”
Link held both stubby thumbs up.
He loved it when he could freak people out by giving them his life story.
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‘Disgusting,’ Kohga thought to himself, his eyes narrowed behind his smooth mask as he watched that… that Thing wandering around with its hands behind its back, like it was some sort of… some… supervisor, judging them all, assessing them. Dissecting them.
It had killed five of his men, stank of sewage and death, filled the air with that horrendously incessant rattling, stared at everyone like they were food, and now, it was sitting in his chair!
Sitting in his chair, as his lackeys came up to it, offering tribute.
“Fine, ripe bananas, for you, Magnificent One.”
Kohga clenched his fists. A banana browned and turned to ooze the moment he picked one up, and he simply… cast it to the side.
“Precious stones, blessed with the power of the elements for you, Magnificent One!”
The sparkling jewels turned white and dull, not one of them sparking, or dripping, or radiating anything that implied they had any connection to the elements.
One of the clansmen, who’d been a tailor in his old life, approached, and bowed his head with a folded-up, black article of clothing.
“A cloak, Magnificent One. Spun from the darkest silk, and dipped in dye so black it appears to be a void.”
The Dark One tilted its head, and reached out deliberately. Agonizingly slow, and as fluid as liquid, it manipulated the fabric to examine it. Then, he let it unfurl, and put his arms through it. It lifted the hood, and its charcoal-colored skin seemed to vanish as darkness materialized under the hood, leaving only those eyes glowing, and its hands poking out. The effect was odd – Kohga could still see the creature’s body, plain as day, the tunic and those trousers, but it was as though a chasm had come into existence underneath the hood, shrouding it from its head to its shoulders. It looked almost like some depictions he’d seen of legendary, undead assassins – Garo, it was said – just give him swords for arms, and the image would be complete.
“You’d hide that ug-“ The Dark One’s eyes snapped to look at Kohga with unnatural speed, and the Yiga Master coughed. “I mean – that magnificent visage?”
“But of course,” Astor slithered over with a smarmy smile. “Lord Ganon is our secret weapon…”
“Ganon!?” Kohga spluttered defiantly. “The thing looks nothing like him!”
“He has proven his worth in combat,” Astor narrowed his eyes. “Or would you like to try him again?”
“No, but-“ Kohga looked to his long-standing associate. “Sooga, tell ‘im!”
The Blademaster coughed, and although he was still sore from the fight, stepped over. “The legends are all quite clear… as are the prophecies. A child born to the desert sands, with hair stained red from the countless lives he’d slain from his lives previous. A king, a conqueror, and a demon. Avarice and filth; hatred and malice incarnate.” Sooga slowly turned from the Dark One to look at Astor. “He is none of those.”
“Well, filth, maybe.” Kohga shrugged.
“Ganon has taken many forms,” Astor sneered. “Agahnim, the Dark Beast, the King of the Enchanted Thieves…”
“He looks just like the Hero!” Kohga raised his voice. “You know – the guy we’re meant to be killing!?”
The red eyes intensified in their glow, as the rattle grew louder.
“Dark reflections of the Hero are one of Ganon’s favored aspects.”
Kohga narrowed his eyes, as Astor smugly looked back at him. The mad prophet wasn’t a fool – he was deliberately fudging things to his benefit, it seemed. He knew damn well the thing wasn’t Ganon, only a servant… but the rest of the Clan didn’t.
The Dark Heroes were a detail of the Ancient War almost completely lost to time. It was said that Ganon, frustrated over his first loss to the Hero, took on the aspects of the one that killed him – the appearance, the fighting style, the magic – all so that they may be evenly matched. The Dark Lord then lay in wait for the Hero to stumble across him. But that was pre-ancient history. There were just as many old tales that said the Dark Reflections were just tools of Ganon, like the monsters he used. And, there were those that said that they were neither Ganon or his tools; beings from Elsewhere spawned by the Hero’s own dark feelings and malicious desires, given form by the magic of powerful temples.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at here, Astor.” Kohga glowered at the prophet, pointing harshly. “But my men are far too intelligent to fall for it?”
“Really?” Astor raised a curious eyebrow, looking at all the Yiga. “We’re in agreement, then. Your men are intelligent… Intelligent enough to recognize their best hope when they see it!” He gestured to the cloaked figure. “Praise be to Ganon!”
“Praise him!” The Yiga chanted in unison. “Praise him! Praise-“
A spiderweb of jagged, glowing branches, red at their core and glowing a sickly black, tore into the assembled, shutting them up.
“Quiet.” The monster growled softly, cutting them all off, as they bowed their heads in deference to his dark presence.
That lightning – it was like that electrical power that the Gerudo Chieftain had. He hadn’t even lifted his hands – it just… appeared.
“Of course,” Astor bowed his head. “We haven’t yet made everyone aware of your… dislike for loud sounds, but we will concede to your wishes.”
“Why?” The Dark One looked around.
“Um…” Astor blinked, before his smile returned. “Because you are Ganon, Magnificent One. King of Darkness, Lord of All Monsters. You hate the Hylian Royal Family and their precious Hero as much as we do. And with you leading our efforts, victory is assured.”
The darkness-shrouded being stared ahead. “Kill the Hero.” He inhaled, grabbing the ancient device off his belt to look at it. A map sprung to life on the polished glass, showing where they were, and all that surrounded them. “Gerudo…”
“I-I’m sorry?” Astor tilted his head.
The Dark One turned to him. “We go to Gerudo. If we kill them… he will come.”
“Are you nuts!?” Kohga spluttered. “Their whole culture knows how to fight, and it’s their home territory! We’ll be outnumbered, out-played, and out-sworded! Plus, out of water! We can’t attack ‘em!”
“Why ever not?” Astor challenged. “They are the Great Betrayers… they who Ganon blessed with the honor of being host to his human form, then they forsook him! Cast him out, like common rabble!” Astor looked at the cloaked being with a blood-hungry grin. “They deserve to die for the slight against you.”
The Yiga erupted into cheers again. “Kill the Betrayers! Kill the Betrayers!”
“Wh-What about their chief!?” Kohga spluttered. “She has that… that zappy-thing! She could take all of us down in one go!”
“Um, actually, sir,” One of the Clansmen meekly spoke up. “I saw Lady Urbosa riding out of the desert earlier this morning. She was quite quick about it, too. It seems she has somewhere else to be.”
Kohga glowered at him. He was not helping.
“Excellent,” Astor dripped sarcastically, “Let’s-“ He turned to look at the Dark One, only to realize he was just gone. Astor turned to the door, just in time to see the Dark One’s cloak whipping behind him as he passed through the door. “Well… Lord Ganon appears to have made his choice.”
Kohga could only watched as the rest of the Yiga scrambled to follow, against his better judgements, and wishes.
All of them… but a handful.
Kohga was left standing in the room, along with Sooga, Sadi, and around about ten Yiga of all training branches. The Yiga Grandmaster stood with balled fists, silently seething.
“I don’t know what that crazy kook has planned,” Kohga bit out. “But I don’t like it.”
“He’s not really going to attack Gerudo Town head-on, is he?” Sadi inquired, looking towards Kohga with slight worry.
“It would seem that he is,” Sooga grumbled, crossing his arms.
“That’s goddamn suicide!” Sadi gasped in horror. “That town is nothing but chokepoints and bottlenecks with a layout that’s just downright confusing. Plus, everyone in that town knows how to kill! We’d take more losses trying to assault Castle Town!”
“Yeah,” Kohga growled, before stomping off after them.
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Kohga found them in the armory, gearing up. “Hey!” He yelled impotently, stomping his foot. “What’s the big idea!?” He demanded of the Dark One. “Attacking that town’s gonna get you all killed!” He hollered, as the Dark One just looked away from him, cloak moving in winds that were not there. “I’m not willing to sacrifice my-“
The phantom winds suddenly became very real winds, as Kohga very rapidly found himself unable to breathe. The Yiga Master’s hands went up to his throat, but it was in vain. He wasn’t choking, and even if he was, there were no hands to bat away. There just… wasn’t air to breathe.
Kohga was trying to breathe, and there was no air. He tore his mask off, trying to make it easier for the air to get to him, but that didn’t help.
The Yiga looked uncertainly at the cloaked figure, tensing on their weapons.
Kohga fell onto his knees, holding himself up as his eyelids grew heavier.
“Enough!” Astor barked as he moved over. “Lord Ganon, he’s on our side! He may still be of use to us!”
The glow in the Dark One’s eyes subsided, and the orbs narrowed. He stomped off, a man on a mission, leaving Kohga glowering at the being’s retreat.
The other Yiga had the decency to appear uneasy this time, before they followed him.
Kohga watched, and a shadow fell over him.
“These men may have followed you, Kohga.” Astor orated. “But ultimately, they belong to Ganon.”
“That’s not Ganon, and you know it.” Kohga coughed.
“Indeed I do,” Astor placed a hand over his heart. “But he carries enough… destructive potential to make a very persuasive case to your men. As long as he has the strength to intimidate them… they will believe whatever they must.”
“It’ll kill you,” Kohga wheezed. “Something like this… something like Ganon, throwing around the powers that it wields… it only sees people like you and me as tools. And eventually, tools are replaced.”
Astor had the audacity – the sheer utter balls – to laugh. “Speaking from experience, are you?”
“The Clan isn’t some club,” Kohga hissed. “Our people can’t be replaced like an uppity knight!”
“What a noble heart you have, Kohga.” Astor chuckled. “But don’t you worry. I may be a tool in its mind… but even the safest of tools can kick back and kill the one who wields it.”
Kohga shook his head. “Then you’d best be careful to remember that.”
Astor said nothing, merely smiling and retreating happily out the door.
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First came the surprise. Then the rage. Then the determination. For the first time, in a very long time, Twilight felt like he was back among the living in a way he hadn’t been since his quest.
Although, he’d never fought something as large as that. Still, he was a Hero. He knew he could win.
As the great beast, forged from a fusion of Malice and mechanics, waded towards the Castle, Twilight called upon his Clawshot, and took aim. As soon as it was in range, he fired, and watched as the claw grabbed onto the eye-like nodes growing all over the thing’s body. He grappled up, his fur coat whipping through the air behind him, and he hit the wall, anchoring himself to the corrupted stone.
The possessed Divine Beasts screamed out, as Twilight swung and jumped off, passing through the windows into the beast’s body. It appeared to be Vah Ruta’s control room – the main unit replaced with an enormous, beating heart made of malice, pumping constantly. Mouths in the floor opened up, spitting out monsters.
Twilight began to move. With speed more suited to a four-legged being, and the fine precision of a hunter, he opened fire on the crowd with the cannon in one hand, whilst swinging with the sword in the other. They clamored and desperately tried to claw at him, only succeeding in getting at where he had been.
He jumped, kicking off a Bokoblin, landing on a Stalfos, while a Moblin tried to swing its giant spear, only getting its fellow monsters.
Twilight fired at the heart, and the monster began to quake – as a giant hand slammed through the stone walls in retaliation. With one of the infected control units destroyed, Twilight jumped onto the giant fist, and held on as it was pulled out. He leapt off, aiming for the section belonging to Vah Naboris, and he slammed into one of the platforms sticking out from its sides.
A Moblin comprised of Malice screamed at him as he entered, while he ran up to it and rammed his sword through the underside of its jaw. Another control unit exuded black smoke, and Twilight took aim once more.
The control unit shattered, and as the fusion began to howl once again, he sprinted right back out, jumping and climbing up the oily ribs of Vah Medoh. A swarm of the disembodied skulls were buzzing around, like clouds of gnats around piles of garbage, divebombing him. The moment one screamed, Twilight threw himself to the side, leaping out of the way and allowing the skulls to slam into the stone walls.
Up through one of the open portholes on Medoh, Twilight continued to climb, through the beast’s innards back out onto what was Medoh’s dorsal structure – now connected to the rest of the beast’s enormous torso by fleshy roots the size of the Deku Tree’s root system. They wriggled around, snapping at him with spiky maws, while Twilight fired again.
Finally, he turned, and took aim again, at what had been Vah Rudania’s back, and the unit on it.
With one final blast the monster let out a shrill, tearing screech, as it began to wildly shake and stumble.
Quickly, he scaled his way to the top, onto one of the many heads. With the Castle below, Twilight took a running start, and jumped, as the mechanical titan came crashing down, landing right on top of the structure.
A piece of debris tore through the roof, clearing the way for Twilight, and he landed right in the Sanctum of Hyrule Castle – right where he wanted to be.
Before he smacked into the floor, Twilight held his hookshot up, and grappled onto a chunk of the roof, slowing his descent and landing on his feet. He reeled in the chain, and looked around.
“Look who it is…”
Twilight’s ears twitched upon hearing a deceptively sonorous voice echo through the room.
The spirit turned around, spotting a Hylian woman sitting in the old throne. Her skin was as pale as paper, covered in bulging black veins, with hair stained the color magenta.
“Let it never be said you Heroes are ones to be dissuaded from self-destructive courses of action.” She had Zelda’s voice, Zelda’s face… but those eyes were burning orange, vaguely cat-like, with black sclerae.
“It’s hardly self-destructive,” Twilight shrugged. “Actually, it’s the opposite. It’s about destroying you, Ganon.”
The possessed princess affected a mockingly-surprised expression, holding a hand over her heart. “You wound me. What did I ever do to you to elicit this response?”
“You hollowed out that girl’s body and are wearing it like a suit.” Twilight glowered in response. Facing his Zelda as Ganon’s puppet had been bad enough – he didn’t like the reminder of it.
Puppet Zelda laughed. “As if I would let the one being who could stand against me wander freely.” The look on her face turned serious, as she glared at Twilight. “I should have known Hylia would have found some way of trying to cheat my victory away from me.”
Twilight ignited the Guardian Sword he carried. “Cheat? Who said anything about cheating? This is round two.”
Puppet-Zelda glared back at Twilight in response, before she grinned, and summoned forth a blade comprised of black, volcanic glass.
Twilight jumped forward.
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The road up to the Great Plateau was traversed with a little bit of difficulty. Not because of monsters or anything like that, but because of the stairs.
They were old, loose in some spots, and there was a lot of them. That was why it was so relatively isolated – no one wanted to go up! Of course, there were the cheaters in the group – one who could just leap up without a fight, and another who could warp up or, failing that, not struggle for breath at all. Zelda, then, was left having to move the old-fashioned way.
Well… she would have been, if not for some careful pestering on her part.
The Deity frowned, but let her onto his back anyway.
They landed on the dirt, near the edge, and Zelda swayed uncertainly whilst she held on.
“You know – the ancient Sheikah really could have done with some elevators.” Zelda grumbled as she stepped down. “They wouldn’t even need to be technological! Simple counterweights and pulleys would suffice.”
“The Great Plateau is a place not to be visited by those who would regard it with anything other than total seriousness, I sense.” The Shade rasped, looking around. “The stairs are most likely a deterrent. To weed out the weak of constitution.”
“Not very accessibility-minded of them,” The Deity rumbled with narrowed eyes, before kicking a stone. “It doesn’t seem like a Sheikah construction… at least, not like the ones we’ve seen.”
“Well, there’s some debate.” Zelda happily answered, moving to take the lead and comfortable now that she had the subject of ancient research to fall into. “We agree, largely, that the Plateau is most definitely artificial in nature – the sediment types we’ve analyzed come from vastly different regions of Hyrule, and are so uniformly distributed that they could only have been deliberately placed here! The current theory is that the Great Plateau is the result of the vast quantities of materials displaced when the Ancient Sheikah buried their constructions.”
The Shade tilted his head curiously. “How so?”
“All that material needs to go somewhere. Instead of dumping it all into the sea and risking a potential ecological nightmare, they instead decided to bury it. The result was the Great Plateau,” Zelda exposited as they approached the main town.
The Shade stopped, staring at the arrangement of the Temple of Time, the fountain down in front of it, the few buildings, and the abbey just a little ways in the distance.
“This region was said to have been the birthplace for all the Kingdom of Hyrule,” Zelda orated with a smile. “It makes sense that they decided to elevate it, and show their reverence for it.”
“Shouldn’t that honor go to the Sealed- Sorry, Forgotten Temple?” The Deity frowned. “That was where we settled on the ground, after all.”
“Perhaps so,” Zelda shrugged. “But Fi has explicitly stated that multiple polities have adopted the name over the years. This is likely only where the latest version started.”
“The buildings,” The Shade wheezed quietly, shifting his weight heavily. “They look to have been the original Castle Town… from the Hero of Time’s era.”
“Good catch!” Zelda nodded. “Yes, he does claim that the buildings up here bear a remarkable resemblance to the seat of power from his time. Though I myself am still not certain if they are mere recreations, or the originals. They’re incredibly well-preserved if they’re structures from tens-of-thousands of years ago – but that could just as easily be explained as there being people up here to maintain them. Structures like the Forgotten Temple, and the Tomb of One-Thousand Heroes, on the other hand, have no one caring for them.” She glanced at the ones following her. “Come on – the Shrine is up this way.” She moved towards a natural path running behind the temple of time, up to a rocky outcropping looking over the Great Plateau.
The Shade tilted his head as they moved, his curiosity momentarily aroused. “’Tomb of One-Thousand Heroes,’ you say?”
Zelda frowned curiously at him. “You’re not aware of it?”
“I…” The ghostly knight looked down. “I’ve not left the Forest for many years.”
“Ah,” Zelda simply nodded, refusing to probe further on the matter. “Well, according to the surviving stories, the Tomb had been built some time after the Hero of Hyrule awoke the Sleeping Princess from her slumber. You see, in that time, Ganon’s minions were working on a way to revive their master, and it was said that the remains of the one responsible for slaying the Demon King could be used to do so. So, when the Hero perished, his remains were sealed in a vast, maze-like temple, built near a forest where one of the earliest and most beloved Heroes came from.”
The Shade nodded, following along before his curiosity got him again. “But wait, couldn’t Ganon’s followers simply have broken into the tomb, and stole what they sought?”
Zelda smiled, and nodded again. “The Tomb’s builders thought the same thing: which is what led to it getting its name. In a bid to prevent Ganon’s followers from stealing the Hero’s remains, the Tomb’s builders retrieved the bodies of other Heroes of Hyrule. Ones such as the Hero of Legend, who saved not only Hyrule, but other kingdoms across the world. The Hero of Light and Dark, who drew the Four Sword, then used its mystical power to split Ganon’s soul into four, and hide it across time itself. The Hero of the Lokomo, who stopped a demon from destroying another fledgling Hyrule. And the Heroes that came before them. All were placed inside the Tomb, protecting each other through numbers, and the Hero of Hyrule, his body was hidden away, concealed safely in the stones that the Tomb was built from. Later, the Sheikah moved into the area, following rumors of a fairy fountain, and they built modern Kakariko.”
The Shade slowed down, but kept moving, even as they approached the Shrine of Resurrection. “My body is in there somewhere.”
Zelda went a few shades paler, shiftily glancing his way. “Yes… Yes, I suppose it must be.”
The Deity placed a hand on the Shade’s shoulder, in quiet solidarity with the spirit, as they reached the entrance.
“Now, what about this?” Zelda cleared her throat, looking over the Shrine. The Slate on her belt hummed and blooped. “The Shrine is…” She looked up with a curious frown. “The Shrine is transmitting.”
“Transmitting?” The Deity repeated. “Transmitting what?”
“I’m not sure,” Zelda confessed, fiddling with some of the settings. “My first thought would be to assume a distress signal… But this doesn’t follow the same, standardized pattern that other Sheikah Tech distress signals do.”
The Shade frowned. “You know what those sound like?”
“Somewhat. We’ve heard the codes for SOS and Search-And-Destroy. But the full array of codes is still unknown to us.” Zelda hummed, moving through the open aperture. “I wonder why it’s transmitting? A sign of the Malice infection?”
“Possibly.” The Deity moved in after her, as they carefully descended the crumbling steps.
When they reached the bottom, Zelda stopped in place, and stared ahead, freezing up.
“Zelda?” The Shade rasped. “Is something the matter?”
“N-No, it’s…” Zelda gulped. “This was where we put our version of the Hero. I… When I was still ensnared by Ganon, I used to watch this location, waiting for my Link to awaken. I know it’s not the case, but… some part of me still expects to see him in there.” She felt a squeeze tighten around her hand, and she looked to find the Deity. He did not look judgmental, only sympathetic.
“He’s out there now, alive.” The Deity reminded her. “Whatever we face in here – remember that.”
Zelda inhaled, and walked up the ramps, toward the main door. It was already open, allowing a clear view of the healing basin on the other side. The basin that, in her timeline, was corrupted by Ganon and used to create Hollow Link.
The waters appeared a cold blue, as did the rest of the lights.
Well, last time around, Purah and the others hadn’t any time to check over the Shrine and see if it would work. This time, there was time, and Zelda had a Slate. She turned around to move towards the control pedestal.
“Let me see if I can access the facility’s systems-“ Zelda began, finding the terminal glowing orange. “Oh… that’s odd.”
The Deity walked up, silently raising an eyebrow for her to explain.
“The Sheikah Technology all have status lights,” She began to explain. “They’re for an easy, at-a-sight method of determining what you’re dealing with. Blue means fully active – orange means it has power, but not that it’s been activated.” She pointed to the glowing, orange pedestal. “This pedestal is in stand-by mode. Which is odd.”
“Why?” The Deity asked.
“Because that means the Shrine is ready to be activated. But it shouldn’t be assuming that state unless there’s a body in the basin,” Zelda gestured to it.
“The tub is empty,” The Shade confirmed. “Completely. Not a bone floating around in it whatsoever. Could the system be glitching?”
Zelda frowned. “Possibly… but Sheikah technology is so remarkably robust, I have a hard time believing that’s the case now.” She tapped her foot, thinking about it. “Perhaps we should just try to activate the system?”
The Deity looked around. “I don’t see any danger… still, be careful.”
“Don’t fret – I’m sure you won’t let anything happen,” Zelda replied, before placing the Slate into the Terminal. It flipped down and slid around. Clicking and whirring came from the terminal.
Then, a loud, thunderous crash, and the sound of stone grinding against stone filled the room, as the earth began to tremor.
Zelda looked around, finding that a wall was moving up behind the entry door. “What’s happening!?”
The Deity swayed, slamming his hand into the wall through the door. The stone shattered… but the stone only continued moving.
“Where’s all that wall coming from!?” The Shade wondered at the seemingly-infinite stone rising up. “It must be creating an enormous column!”
“No…” Zelda’s eyes went wide. “The wall isn’t moving up… We’re moving down!”
The Deity yanked his hand away, and looked at the floor, like he could see through it. “Down towards what?”
“That… is the question.”
