Conquering the Stars with the Undead
Chapter 76: Theatre

Chapter 76: Theatre

The group stood in front of a tall building that clashed with its surroundings.

Modern brick and wood restaurants flanked it on either side, only embellishing the Roman-style columns and masonry on display. A slanted marble roof was suspended by four spiraling beams that were set into the top of a flat foundation.

A large doorway was set into the middle, with a series of windows surrounding it. Dozens of wealthy patrons walked inside, whispering in hushed tones.

For an unknown reason, Charon found it hard to go up the stairs, his robes strangely firm in their desire to stay out. The others continued without him, not noticing his disappearance, until Liam paused, took a few long steps back, and roughly shoved him forward.

"Don’t want to be caught alone out here. Might be confused for a pickpocket. Liable to get yourself hurt."

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he thanked Liam and rushed to catch up.

The interior of the theatre was no less opulent, with dozens of expensive-looking paintings and portraits hanging on the walls. A few cased items were placed on pedestals, some plaques beneath them for onlookers to read.

Of them all, only Annie bothered to stop and give them a glance, her eyes dancing as she eagerly drank up the historical information.

’She really likes learning. It’s admirable.’

Charon had never been much of a reader himself, preferring to go off exploring and writing his own adventures, but it was hard not to watch Annie get so engrossed in what she was doing.

His cheeks turned red as he looked away.

’It’s totally because of her excitement, not because she is super pretty or anything! It couldn’t be that! I am a respectable young man with far larger things to worry about than a beautiful girl my age!’

He knew it was hopeless, and even if it wasn’t that, it was pointless.

’She has men like Darius around her, and besides, I’ll be leaving for the realm of the living soon enough. How would a cross-dimensional relationship even work? "Hey honey, hope you don’t mind, but I need to step through this portal and go to a world you died in. Want me to bring back some milk?"’

He smirked at his own joke, born from a mixture of humor and doubt.

At the end of the entrance hallway, they came to a small kiosk, where a handful of well-dressed men were using small gun-like items to scan holo-pads and, in some rare cases, necks.

’Those must be soldiers who underwent the same procedure Emerius and I did.’

Darius approached one of the men and offered his own holo-pad, a square disk with a series of buttons on it. The man scanned it and gestured to the hallway leading down the right, offering a professional "Thank you, please enjoy the show" at the same time.

Following the path, they entered through a doorway on the side of the room to arrive in a wide-open theater. Long rows of black velvet seats stretched up high, with viewers already filling most of them.

A wooden stage sat at the foot of the chairs, long purple curtains hiding the bulk of the surface. Metal lights hung from the walls, shining their beams to create a circular ring on the very center of the drape.

Darius reverently raised a finger to his lips, signaling them to remain silent. He faced Liam for multiple seconds, drilling the intent into his skull.

They rose the stairwells hanging on the sides of the audience, moving to one of the seats in the back.

Despite their distance, Charon could see the stage as if he were right in front of it, his eyes narrowing as he recognized some kind of magnification magic at work.

’How does it even operate? I don’t see any runes or spell formations. Is there someone manually holding the spell, or is the mechanism hidden?’

A sound above him drew his eyes skyward, as he noticed five platforms extending over the audience. They were semi-circular in shape, extending a few yards from the wall to allow more than enough room to move around. Two were on either side, with the last one being above the back seating, which was where the group sat.

’What are those?’

As if he could read his mind, Emerius leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Box seats. They are for the very wealthy or nobility. My family owns quite a few spread across the Empire. They offer the best view in the house, as well as special access to the performers."

Nodding his thanks at the explanation, he pondered how nice it must be to be able to afford something like that.

The group shuffled to one of the rows before beginning to awkwardly cross some of the other viewers as they maneuvered to the center. They sat in a line, with Darius at the end, followed by Emerius, Charon, Annie, Liam, and finally, Red.

He was a bit giddy at sitting next to Annie, but he tamped those feelings down, reminding himself of the pointlessness of it.

The moment they sat, Darius and Emerius began whispering to each other. The black haired swordsman described other plays he had seen, while the blonde-haired swordsman eagerly listened.

Although Emerius had seen many such shows, his family’s ownership of the box seats alluding to as much, he never once mentioned them.

Initially confused as to why, he almost face-palmed when he remembered that they had never revealed where they truly came from.

’They still think we lost all of our memories when we came here. That’s for the best. Only the gods know who they could tell it to.’

Beyond the practical reasons for keeping it a secret, Charon also did not trust them yet.

Emerius was one thing. He might not have known him for long, but he had proven himself time and time again, even when he didn’t have to.

The others hadn’t done that yet. The closest that they came was helping take them to the Fort, but that was done as part of their job as a scouting party.

’Maybe one day we can tell them the truth.’

Tuning into their conversation, his head subtly turned to face them as he overheard something interesting.

"The last time I witnessed their performance, they were doing some kind of depiction of the God of the Mind. They were locked in some kind of conflict with the God of Death, with many of the actors portraying the various minions being used as pawns."

Emerius nodded along with him.

"That sounds like quite the show. Do you recall how it ended?"

Darius frowned and scratched at the stubble growing on his chin. His green eyes somehow glimmered in the dim light, creating a majestic appearance that would make any woman go mad.

"Strangely enough, I do not. I vaguely remember one of the minions who we thought dead returned, only to be cast out for the final scene. Whatever happened during it, I could not tell you, except that it was very sad and very thought-provoking."

Charon’s friend chuckled into his hand, an expressly noble action that was out of character with how he normally saw Emerius act.

’Is he playing up his roots to get more information out of Darius?’

"For being a thought-provoking piece, you seem to have forgotten much of it. It is hard to believe it was as good as you describe."

Before he could respond, the theatre lights turned brighter. Chains rattled as the house curtain was pulled to the sides, splitting down the middle to reveal a short man in a neatly pressed suit standing in front of another curtain.

He coughed into his fist, his voice carrying easily in the well-built room.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, I thank you very much for your presence here tonight. We have gathered to give you a performance unlike any other, meticulously crafted through years of dedication and hard work."

He took a few steps forward, pausing at the very edge of the stage. He withdrew a golden pocket watch and clicked a button on the side, the glass covering popping open. A soft ticking sound began to spread, echoing off the walls like a metronome.

"It is now time for us to grow silent and bear witness to a story lost to time. You may laugh, and you may cry, but we ask that you maintain control of yourselves at all times. What you are about to see is not meant for mortal eyes, and yet it must be shared regardless."

With that foreboding warning, the man shuffled off stage, his watch still held out in his hand.

The ticking continued, never wavering. It was staccato and unending.

Like the beating of a heart.