Lost in the Lab Part 1
Date Posted: October 12, 2025
This chapter was written by Scylla.
Scylla wandered along the interior outer ring of Syrcus Tower, carefully dodging piles of boxes and slipping into the narrow emergency escape corridors. In ancient times, when the Tower was in the early stages of construction, her ancestors carved out these smooth passages for escape in times of siege. In her youth, they were largely irrelevant, as the empire had passed into a long lull of prosperity and peace. While her father conducted business in the Tower, it was not unusual for Scylla to spend the day exploring the reaches of far spires.
Back then… it was a different place. The Tower was the heart of Allag, a symbol of strength and stability in a peaceful world.
Time and space had both eroded that image. Instead of clockwork guards lining doors, scattered dusty splintered crates, spent leather canteens and used excavation gear littered the entrances. Where technologists, mages, and nobles once walked the halls, vicious Allagan chimeras skulked the halls in feral packs, looking for an easy meal.
Most standard control panels lay dormant, and only auxiliary power appeared to be active at best, allowing for basic functionality in terms of transport and chimera containment. Even the clockwork creatures lay silent in control pods.
Not that Scylla knew precisely how to fix it. Tower maintenance and knowledge were not her forte, even when she was an Archmage in the ages long past. This domain belonged to Amon, and in the last years of the Empire, he had made modifications to ensure that he was the center point of control within the giant crystal structure.
Which is what made Tad’s whole endeavor all the more dangerous. She didn’t know how bringing her old rival to the Tower would do anything to solve this clone confusion. Scylla was not sure if this would simply make things worse and whether Amon would revert to his more sinister ways.
Lately, it was almost as if Amon was back to his old goofy self again. The old, true Amon. The Amon before the sorrows of the Empire and the Ascians fell upon him. An Amon that she could laugh with and share stories with.
Despite his occasional outbursts and snide snipes, it was almost as if she had found a companion, dare she say that they were friends. They were, after all, the last two Allagans remaining in Eorzea.
Except Amon was not. Or was he?
He was an Ascian.
Ascian!
Scylla clenched her fist as the very word caused every muscle in her body to quiver with hatred. Koh had loaded her up with tomes of recent discoveries from both Sharalyan and Saint Coinach scholars alike.
As she trailed Amon and Tad, the white mage found she had plenty of time to study. As much as she tried to deny it, all of the writings pointed to the same conclusion.
Amon was Fandaniel, an Ascian overlord, one of the thirteen of the great Convocation. He was one of the eternal beings that planned the destruction of her home in the name of resurrecting Zodiark, their primal god. Through most of his life, he remained unaware, until another Ascian came upon him and awakened that shard that slept within.
But then, who was her patient? Why did he even exist? Ascians were practically invincible and immortal, so what need would there be for another clone? And why did this clone truly act, feel and behave like Amon of Allag?
How could such a signature fool an Archmage as herself? And if this Amon was a clone, why would this man alleged to be Amon’s true cousin take him inside the Tower?
The crunch of bone under her boot startled Scylla out of her musings. The skulls of small animals and ribcages of larger beasts were co-mingled in a pile, picked clean of flesh. In the distance, she could hear the echoes of claws tapping along the crystal floors.
Unfortunately, when the doors shut behind the two Elezen, Scylla found that the Tower only minimally responded to her aether, with only the most basic of interfaces even displaying an output. Whatever royal power she once had was lost with her original eyes, which were removed when Amon had performed his cruel experimentation on her. While she had much of her original form back, the royal eyes were something that could not be so easily cloned.
She slid towards the transport platform that led to her target, seeing the long shadows of chimeran hunting packs stretch as they wandered about for new prey. There was no way out of the Tower. Not after Amon had so brashly pushed open the doors to the outside world. She had no intention of getting caught by the authorities, but in turn, had left herself exposed to the hungry monsters that stalked the humming crystal halls.
The corridor grew silent once more as the shadows moved onward. Scylla took a deep breath, sliding her way along the wall toward her target. She was almost there when suddenly, she realized the wall next to her was breathing.
The visage of yellow eyes caused the white mage to stumble backward as a claw caught her arm, leaving rake marks in her skin. She responded with a flash of bright magic, which caused the creature to screech in pain as she ran for the transport.
Behind her, she could hear shouts and howls as creatures rushed towards her position from all directions, dropping from ceilings and climbing from below. The slithering current rushed towards her as she jumped for the transport, slamming her hands on the controls.
The vehicle lurched as if awoken from an ancient sleep, and then skidded forth, traveling on a thin line of hover-light into the middle reaches of the far spires of the tower. One of the creatures leapt up, hanging onto the transport, clawing its way into the shattered glass.
Scylla was ready for this one, slamming her staff into the creature’s snout, sending it plunging into the darkness below. In the distance, she could see yellow eyes dancing about, scattering into the many corridors and climbing up the walls towards her destination.
The transport halted, console speaking in a distorted voice, though she knew the destination well.
“Outer-Middle-Level, Shard Eight. Please watch your step when exiting the vehicle!”
An arrow grazed by her cheek, and then another clattered by her foot as she ran and banged her hand against the door, streaming a rather powerful blast of aether through her palm into the door panel. It creaked open, just enough for her to slide in.
She slammed her hand on the internal panel along the other side, screaming as she saw a pile of creatures climb over each other, hungry maws open wide. The doors slammed shut, leaving a creature howling just outside and sealing Scylla safely away from the clamoring beyond.