“You can’t trust me because I can’t trust you.”

The words were mumbled quietly into its mind. Nothing else was heard, for there was nothing else of value to listen to.

The information stopped flowing. A deathly silence had overtaken the Communicae, once again becoming silent.

It reached upwards to dig out the cords that were engaged deep within the sockets that were engraved deep within. Its hands pulled hard onto the cord, followed by a sharp sensation of pain for a moment. They both became unlatched, and then were summarily dropped onto the ground without hesitation. Both cords made a thick, squelching thud as they hit the ground.

Living in a roughly two meter wide hole in the ground was a creature of grotesque design, a creature with no mouth, eyes, or any notable features, but instead was a pervasive clump of flesh that pulsed ever slowly.

The Communicae, as it knew, was a grand mass of living tissue; half of the thing was discolored into a foul grey-green, while the rest was a violently sour pink and red, as if merely being exposed to the air caused irritations. The flesh pulsed sluggishly while cords uncountable protruded from the exterior skin, exposed to the outside’s cold air. What the cords were exactly, it did not know. It only knew what the cords did.

After the cords landed, the Communicae sounded a noise; something like a moist gurgle, though there was no visual motion from where the noise came from. The creature being but a mess of writhing meat made identifying any features near impossible.

The skin of the Communicae retracted the protruded cords, all of them sliding into the flesh again. The creature’s skin paled, and slowly began to shrink back into the hole from which it had spawned.

It turned from the damp, mucus ridden area that once housed the Communicae. There was no point in waiting for another to simply appear. Time was everything.

The room bore a feeling of a sharp, intense silence. The blank stone walls spoke no stories to be discovered, nothing but one singular lifeform resided within, and no signs of life could’ve been found. Some passageways were etched into the walls, winding around the tower endlessly into more rooms and yet more passageways endlessly.

It chose a path. It did not matter which to choose, they all would yield the same results in the end. More corridors, more questions, and fewer time.

For a brief moment, the pain returned in its arms, but the feeling went away without another thought. The glowing burns in its arms were getting worse with time. But for now, focusing elsewhere would only slow, and slowing down would only cause more pain.

The structure continued going upwards, just as it went downwards. Even if there was an escape to reach at either side, it would take too long to reach.

Blank, soulless concrete went on for miles, nearly uninterrupted, and most spaces were simply corridors. Empty tunnels, with no lights to illuminate a path. However, some spaces were open for all to peer out into the expanse of the world. A horizon that never saw an end, populated by towers that rode high above pierced into the sky, their approximate height or ends impossible to estimate.

If one were to find themselves gazing outwards instead of upwards, they would realize the empty cities continued forever into the horizon. More and more towers littered the world and never seemed to find an end.

There was no visible light source, yet something kept the world illuminated. Whatever the light was, the source never shifted, never changed, never dimmed, and remained persistent.

On occasion, it would spot another of its own origin. They were easy to identify; confused, slender figures wandering aimlessly, unable to comprehend their surroundings. They all looked the same, but the older ones could be easily identified by the glowing marks embedded in the arms.

They all wore the same features, that of a silver, metallic being that held no discernible details on the skin, aside from black eyes and the pair of holes that went deep into the head.

Most times, it found them hooked to the Communicae. The feeling when it found them connected was always unsettling to witness. If one were uneducated, they would suspect the pair to be dead, but this was far from the truth. While there was complete silence between the two forms, so much was being exchanged under the surface.

The Communicae gave information to those who used the cords, but this information was unreliable. Small truths were able to be gleaned on occasion, but to entirely rely on a Communicae for truth and wisdom was an ill move, and likely resulted in a few of its kin meeting a faster end.

The Communicae spoke not in a singular, unified mind, but instead as a swarming amalgamation of voices, bickering amongst themselves. Some voices spoke of a way to get out, while others would say that was a lie and that the escape was located in another tower. Others would deny this, claiming the exit was entirely a lie.

Sometimes, the voices could not deny or accept something entirely. On certain matters, they were entirely settled on one answer. Only then was one able to gleam any information.

The glowing burns in the arms was one thing they never forgot to mention. Time, they said, was always limited, and the signs embedded in the arms were the sign of an end.

The corridors stretched on yet still for an eternity. Passageways that branched off the corridors likely were dead ends or loops that went nowhere.

Pain engulfed its arms, nearing enough to stagger it to the ground. It did not look down, as it did not need to. The pain was nothing to dwell on, as diverting focus would only slow.

In between the larger areas were wide chasms. It did not know where or how tall the drop was, just to avoid the fall.

Its arms burned in pain, but this pain was negligible.

In contrast to the stone, many bodies were littered everywhere the eyes could see. There was no sign of struggle, no extreme wounds, but each of their arms bore the engraved glowing marks.

It did not know how many resided in just this one complex. There could have been hundreds, or thousands perhaps. And beyond this tower, the number could be endless. There were perhaps hundreds upon thousands of creatures roaming around without any explanation as to why, and the other bodies beyond those, collapsed on the cold, stone floor, their numbers perhaps truly uncountable.

It knew this fate was to be avoided, but time said otherwise.

For a moment, the urge to stare outwards into the horizon was apparent. But this feeling was betraying, inefficient. It knew not to trust these thoughts, for these thoughts would only slow.

It gazed forwards across the platform. The passageway was still visible, far off.

Each step brought slight pain, exhaustion, and with each new step it felt less and less able to ignore the pain.

The concrete echoed with each step, echoing infinitely beyond, beyond the tower and the horizon. The platform was cold.

A new thought slowly formed. Was it going to die? Here?

The passageway crawled ever closer. Pain flowed within its nerves and struck into its brain, yet this pain was nothing. Pain was nothing, as pain would only slow.

It collapsed, for only a moment. Without hesitation, it brought itself onto its feet and continued forward.

The passageway was upon it now. Finally.

There was no feeling of release after stepping forward. There were only more corridors, more concrete, more passageways, more thoughts, and a new room.

But for now, a room. It had to ignore everything else. It could barely think, the mind was too exhausted.

A noise.

It had to focus, for a moment, to identify the noise, to locate. A sliding, writhing sound of flesh and dormant minds within, close by.

It turned to scan the room as quickly as it could.

Another Communicae.

It approached, slowly. Caution was amongst its priorities, though much of the slowness was exhaustion from the burning.

The Communicae flared up quickly upon detecting its presence. Violently, the flesh contorted and spasmed, as if something beneath the skin was trying to escape. The screams began just as quickly, the minds within being awoken back to the world.

Slowly, small imprints over the Communicae’s body had formed, followed by cords springing outwards from the skin. It flinched backwards a small amount in fear, and pain. Some fluid from within coated the cords, and some of this fluid had spilt onto the ground.

Each cord stood outwards, as if trying to protect the main body of the Communicae for a moment. All the cords shook and vibrated intensely, creating an unpleasant, deafening noise.

Quickly, it dug both hands into the violent nest, snatched a pair of cords, and then plunged both cords into the gaps that filled its head.

The cords bit onto something within, and the connection had formed. There was a slight, intense pain, but the sensation had vanished quickly, along with all the pain in the world.

The Communicae ceased for a moment; the cords became still unmoving, and the voices quieted. All of the sound in the world suddenly vanished, and its sight grew dark.

Visions of the complex spread across its mind; many areas were simply blank, unmoving, while in others, some of its kin wandered aimlessly.

The Communicae was quiet, only a whisper at first. But as time went on, more words continued to usher forth.

“Intruder.”

“Lifeform.”

“Survivor.”

The horde spilled forth more words into its mind, the minds quickly rising in violent anger and agony. The information grew and grew upon itself as a plague did within a body. Sights festered upon its mind, visions of a world that knew no true life.

“A deluded construct.”

“Will the agony take you?”

“Above here, continue onwards, an exit, yes.”

“Born of flesh, yet wrought in a metallic hide.”

Hundreds of voices wrecked further, unstoppable. For such a being- a being of such unlatched, unorganized knowledge, of such sight, of such hatred- to truly live in any sense of the word was unfathomable.

The horizon grew endless. Towers, like hair upon a body pierced past the sky into a place unknowable. The world was only a shell of its true purpose, and it decayed evermore.

The agony was nearing unbearable.

Flesh-ridden parasites grew and fed upon the facilities within. Like a virus, they seeped into every gap and space, claiming all. Tendrils reached forth from the main body, rooting the world to keep mind of everything within it.

Voices claimed a place beyond here, a haven.

The screams continued. The minds within the Communicae grew restless, irritated.

“Can you trust them?”

“This place is to be your tomb.”

“The exit is too far.”

The world did not end, only continuing on and seemingly only growing.

More and more of the unending flesh-virus showed across the world. Entire towers had been torn from the world, collapsing and then being subsumed.

Minds beyond the Communicae had begun to turn to realize its presence.

It peered into sights that struck deep pain within its mind. No being, no living, breathing creature should ever gaze upon the endless world.

“Can you trust us?”

Something else stirred. Another singular, undefinable mind had brought attention onto it.

The pain was immense. Its mind continued to blank, and it felt as though all nerves within were being punctured and screaming.

Somewhere beyond this tower, beyond the infinite horizon, a creature shifted. A body, seemingly as unending as the world, turned uncountable eyes towards it.

The agony only perpetuated further. Its nerves felt as though they were about to dig their way out of its skin.

“You will be trapped with the rest of them.”

But the minds began to slow, to calm.

The voices slowly died, gradually becoming but a whisper.

After a moment, the Communicae grew silent, unmoving. The voices ceased, finally.

A shiver. The darkness of the Communicae retreated from its mind, releasing it back unto the world.

It wretched both hands into the cords and swiftly pulled them away from its head, and staggered backwards. The pain was too numbing, unstopping. Its arms burnt like never before.

The Communicae was already gone.

Choices confounded it; too many, but too little opportunity to see through those decisions. The end was approaching imminently, quickly, soon.

The passageways still proved no results. There was nothing to be found in any of them, so there was no point in moving forward.

A new idea formed. The Communicae. The gap in which the creature lived, the tunnel. There was no telling what was on the other end, and if time was closing, this was the only feasible option.

It turned back to where the creature lived, to the gap in the wall. It could perhaps fit within, maybe.

Once it had stumbled across the room, it exhaustedly reached upwards to pull itself up and into the gap.

It slowly slid into the opening, and it realized how intense the air had already become. Compared to the complex, which was cold, empty, and clean, this was damp, dark and pervasive.

The tunnel was small, just barely wide enough to allow small movements, and barely any movement towards the gap’s entrance. Going forward was the only certain decision.

Some pain had almost been relieved within the tunnel. Perhaps the pain had gotten too intensive for it to realize, or its mind and body was already collapsing. Sight was already beginning to darken, because of the mind or the tunnel was uncertain.

The space continued on and on, for how long it did not know. Thoughts began to skip, ideas forgotten quickly.

It reached outwards past the tunnel, and gripped onto something wet and flesh-like. It pulled itself away from the tunnel as quickly as possible, vision once again returning, along with every other sense.

The room smelled of something terrible. A stench that bellowed decay and rot brought forth a tremendous sense of despair, and it folded in an instant upon the ground.

Bodies uncountable littered the ground. Each bore the intense, glowing signs on the arms, but none of their eyes followed movements.

Beyond them, a mass of flesh both pink and dulled grey covered the walls, which deformed and coiled. Like roots, the flesh found a way onto everything and split off into endlessly smaller segments.

With each step, the stench only continued to grow more foul and intolerable. The entire area was a nightmare of design. The air was thick with moisture so excessive that the majority of the room was entirely covered in a thick slimy sweat.

More of the mass only seemed to appear. There was barely any concrete to be found, and especially none now. The walls, floor, and ceiling were entirely claimed by the flesh.

Its mind blanked again, now falling in and out of consciousness. It fell to the floor, kneeling. Pain was nothing. Pain would only slow.

When its thoughts returned, the realization finally dawned.

The Communicae originated from here. Or from places like here, it was unlikely just this area hosted all of the Communicae within the tower. And the Communicae themselves were something else; malignant tumors, growing from the body of something else entirely. They were all connected, rooted to each other. Thousands upon thousands of minds, rooted into each other, connecting to outside creatures.

And outside of just this tower? Did they exist beyond here as well, in more structures? An entire network of uncountable minds, interlinked amongst vast towers on a world that knew no end, spreading and growing everywhere until it all ended?

Its eyes scanned quickly across the room. An escape. Nothing else mattered.

There was no visible exit. The area was too clouded with a thick fog to see anything beyond the flesh.

Its nerves pulsed with agony. The burning that engulfed its arm could not be ignored. Whatever time it had, was over.

It finally collapsed to the ground, entirely locked out of any action. Now, it could only glance around for movement.

The pain had finally stopped.