The air felt thick and damp to Alois, each breath more tangible than the last as they slowly descended deeper and deeper down the stairs. And perhaps he was just a little tense, his throat feeling constricted with the suppressed urge to talk— He hated silence. It was suffocating to walk right beside someone without exchanging a single word. Not a single comment, even, on the strange world they seemed to be steadily approaching. The blanketing darkness frightened Alois which spurred his urge to reach out in some way to the boy, Ciel Phantomhive, beside him but… He didn’t know this boy very well. He’d heard whispers and caught glimpses in the past, but not once had they held a conversation and so he certainly couldn’t reach out to brush his arm or walk closer beside him despite how it might’ve soothed him.
Although with the dull light that finally cut through, the urge started to dissipate and the boy’s natural curiosity took over when faced with what he supposed was the last leg of their trip down to this selcouth, impossible city. The strange submarine that was meant to carry them didn’t create the same caution in him as it had in his companion. In fact, rather than the mechanics of the thing he was more taken by the interior, the tackiness of age. Everything looked old, the music sounded crackly and droned.
”How inviting.” Alois noted in sarcasm when the inscription was read aloud. “Well—”The blond looked back at Ciel for a moment, catching his features under the light. He’d been served the same warning from the Queen, but only now did he take the time to focus on his companion’s appearance. Really, he was rather distinctive with his silvery-dark hair, eye patch and the eye that was uncovered was the color of the sky they had left behind; dusky dark blue. The boy was cute. But that was besides the point.
“Let’s go then.” Back to the submarine, which Alois stepped into without a qualm, dropping down into one of the tired chairs that creaked underneath even his slight weight. He waited a moment, and when it appeared Ciel wasn’t nearly as gung-ho as himself, he arched his eyebrows and raised a hand to gesture to the lever.
“Well come on, it’s not going to start itself! The honour is all yours, Phantomhive.”
The comfort this boy had despite the circumstances of this situation shocked Ciel. Well, maybe not comfort. He seemed too trusting - a liability. The earl couldn’t help but think about what could happen once he stepped inside. For all he knew, the submarine could plunge into the sea without a marker to land, leaving them stranded in the deep blue sea until they rot away inside. Or there could be some type of electrical error that they hadn’t the experience to fix. It felt strange to be this paranoid, as he has delved into death’s way multiple times. He never doubted or disobeyed the Queen, so he had no desire to step away from the submarine. Stalling wouldn’t do him much good either. He stepped into the machine finally, surprised yet relieved that it didn’t move like a boat would in water.
As he stepped in, he closed the metal and glass door behind him. The door was incredibly light, sliding closed easily at his pull. They were secure now, the oxygen feeding them was now practically man made - their lives were at the mercy of man's handiwork and the sturdiness of the container itself. “Right,” he muttered, his eyes falling on the lever momentarily. His hand reached out and gripped it tightly. He felt a slight vibration under his palm as if the machine itself was alive, breathing. Ciel tugged down on the lever, the roar of the machine starting before he could slip his hand away. The lights flickered and Ciel found himself momentarily panicked at the short falling sensation of the submarine dropping into the water. He gripped onto a metal bar that went across the seats as they submerged into water. The glass door did not show anything particularly interesting just yet. It seemed they were sinking incredibly far down - judging by the speed of their descent.
Ciel finally sat down on the other side of Alois as things started to calm down. The machine worked, and it was taking them to this lost city. That was the first step. The next was finding their way around. He asked for some type of map but could only find ways to get to the city itself. Their goal was Andrew Ryan, and as the mayor of the entire city, Ciel could only guess there were practically arrows pointing toward him and his offices.
With another flicker of the light, a sheet of white began to block the view of the glass. In a few seconds, a film started to play. Soft music much like the elevator’s original tune began to play, but it was louder. Like if they turned away from the screen, they still had to listen. Which Ciel had no intention of looking away. This was interesting - yet he still felt uneasy about it. The first picture worth noting was of a close up of a woman and a man. The caption was ’Fire at your fingertips!’ with ’Incinerate’ printed largely at the bottom. Under the title was a smaller but still readable text. ’Plasmids by Ryan industries’. Ciel’s eyes widened slightly at the image. The man was lighting the woman’s cigarette with his finger. Was this a real thing? That seemed so futuristic, even childish. Bizarre.
The next image really grasped his attention. Speak of the devil, Andrew Ryan was sitting rather proudly at his desk. Even if it was just an image, it was key information. “That’s him,” Ciel murmured, slightly to Alois but more of a mental note to himself. He was an old man. An easy target, so it seemed. “I am Andrew Ryan, and I am here to ask you a question.” Ciel’s brow raised. This was just a broadcast - there was no way this man knew of the two boys’ motive, right?
“Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?”
Ciel didn’t say anything.
“No, says the man in Washington. It belongs to the poor. No, says the man in the Vatican. It belongs to God. No! says the man in Moscow, it belongs to everyone.”
“I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose…”
The white page that covered the window slowly rolled back up. The light that was creating the image disappeared. Ciel didn’t have time to think about the mechanics of the machine or about Andrew Ryan before a whole new world stole his attention.
“Rapture.”
The city lit up in front of him. The only thing reminding him that this was underwater was the fish - even squids passed by their view as if the city was their home as well. Each building looked connected to each other by long transparent tubes. Lights were on the sides of nearly every building, making every glance look like a dream - a false image. But it wasn’t. It was all too real. Ciel didn’t know what to think of it.. what to think of Rapture.
“A city where the artist would not fear the censor. Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality. Where the great would not be constrained by the small. And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well.”
