Portals of the Nameless City

They said the city was nameless, a forgotten hint of civilization lost in ancient epochs. The professor, the naive archaeologist, was enticed by the lost piece of antiquity, and I, the humble chronicler of the eccentric professor’s life, was set to follow. Our expedition began under the veil of dusk and curiosity. The city, or rather, its faint impression, was hidden in the desolate reaches of the Sahara. Ruins of cobblestone pathways and ruinous structures hinted towards a once grand civilization.

The grandeur of the past was stolen away by time, and in its place, a strange foreboding atmosphere had taken shape. The archaic symbols etched upon alien stones whispered strange tales of otherworldly entities, cosmic wonders beyond human comprehension, and ancient portals. It was as if the city itself was imbued with an eldritch essence, resonating throughout the eerie spaces.

Scraps of parchment hinted towards the existence of otherworldly gates hidden within the city. It was said that these portals led to places that exists between the fabrics of time and space. Strange symbols marked the alleged locations of each portal. The desire to understand these gates consumed the professor, pushing him deeper into the maze-like city.

With each passing day, the professor's obsession grew. He began to ramble about the countless doors that led somewhere ‘beyond.’ His lucidity began to slip away, overtaken by an obsession with the supposed portals. His sanity teetered on the edge. It was during these delusional states that the professor found it- a hidden passageway beneath a decayed stone structure. The passage led to an underground chamber and within, a monolithic doorway stood.

The door was etched with incomprehensible symbols that seemed to writhe and undulate beneath our gazes. A palpable aura of cosmic dread seemed to ooze from the portal, drenching the air with a chilling touch of deep-sea emptiness. The professor, driven insane by his obsession, opened the door. His fate was sealed as soon as he crossed the threshold. I, a mere observer, was left to chronicle the horror from afar.

The gateway tore open, pouring out an influx of twisted realities and incessant screams of cosmic entities. A whirl of unearthly colors, akin to a grotesque rainbow of abstract horror, gushed forth. The professor was caught within the mesmerising color storm, his form twisting and contorting into an unrecognizable mass of pulsating flesh and bones. His screams echoed within the cavernous expanse of the underground chamber before abruptly falling silent.

The portal's ethereal light flickered and faded, leaving behind the remnants of the professor – a shattered husk of what was once a man. His eyes, once full of fascination and curiosity, were now vacant, staring into the void of his inevitable damnation. The aftermath was a haunting reminder of the price of venturing into realms beyond human understanding.

I fled, carrying with me the haunting memory of the professor’s final moments and the ominous existence of the portals of the Nameless City. It is said that knowledge is power, but the kind of knowledge held within the ancient stones of the sprawling Nameless City was not meant for human minds. My tale, a cautionary one, serves as a warning to those who are enthralled by the prospect of unveiling cosmic wonders. Be careful of the doors you open, some things are left better unknown, especially when one deals with the Portals of the unknown.