Current mood:	Weirdly mixed, thanks to Gunparade
Current music:	Poe - Fingertips

Once more before bed!

*EGC's infinite nature has some interesting effects on its composition. The preceding statement was one of blinding obviousness. But at any rate, one of these effects is the organic growth of new areas. Obviously, an infinite city is one that can never be fully explored. And only an area that constantly grows--at least, from the perspective of the finite beings who live within it--can be truly infinite. But whether this growth is a genuine constant expansion or an illusion based on the limited perceptions of EGC residents, it creates some freaky-ass catacombs. The most famous of these, of course, is the subterranean City of God. We are not here to deal with the well-known, however; we are here to take a look into the obscure.*

*Deep, deep beneath the EGC streets, in a labyrinth of twists and turns no sane sentient mind could have designed--curves and cul-de-sacs and switchbacks going in every direction, forming loops within spirals and even stranger shapes, all made even more maddening by the absolute lack of light in this place--lies something of value. It shines gold in the darkness, not upon an altar or in a chest, but simply amidst the rubble. It is an arrowhead. A large, wide, flat arrowhead; by the gleam of its edges, it is obviously sharp.*

*Unlike most arrowheads, it knows it is sought after. A stirring of familiar power far above catches its interest. With a clattering that shatters centuries of silence, the arrowhead begins to spin in place, like the point of a compass at true north. And then it flips up, standing on the end meant to be attached to a shaft.*

*It shoots straight up, flying into the air, and is gone. Rock and earth do nothing to impede its ascent.*