The order given to him by The Keymaster was a simple enough one; simply steal the old man’s lens.
In spite of the simplicity of the task, it was a daunting one if only for the fact that Adrian would be attempting to rob what was possibly a literal god. He tried to dismiss any self-doubt however, as he knew accomplishing this would be the only way to get out the pickle he currently found himself deeply entrenched in.
The Alchemist's lair was notoriously difficult to locate, but he had a newfound sense for finding things — one he didn't quite understand but felt deeply anyway. He was guided by the back of his mind as he crept through the corridors, through miles and miles of blue polyester carpet and plain white walls. A pressure built up behind his left eye, and his head hurt like hell, but he kept on trajectory for what felt like hours, and was.
Despite the growing pain and tension, Adrian tried to stuff it back down. There was a sense of urgency in the air, and he couldn't afford to stop you tend to his migraine. Finally, when he felt his very skull about to split, he came upon a door… which was locked. It was a brown wooden door, by all means of regular description.
He unlocked it out of near-second nature, pushing the door open and staring down the newly accessed hallway. It seemed to twist and bend, getting darker near the end… making it somewhat hard to see.
His headache subsided as he stalked down the twisting hall, wary of every slight creak around him, and slowly but surely realized he was in the right place.
Shelves appeared — out of place for this level, though attached with good workmanship to the walls — decked with jars and boxes enough to fill a museum and then some.
Adrian knew this had to be the spot, and so instantly set to work. He began rummaging amongst all the junk, looking for the object of his interest. A 'lens' was quite the vague description, making it all the more difficult to reach his goal.
He clambered through shelf after shelf, venturing deeper and deeper as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, until… he saw him.
Gray hair of varying shades, no eyes, glittery complexion — he had the right guy. Wow. He was shorter than expected, Adrian towered over him at his own relatively modest height.
Of course, even in spite of this being possessing a lower stature than himself, Adrian knew the power he commanded. He had been hoping to find the lense without going through him, but now it seemed he had no other choice…
…so be it. Plan B.
“Oh, you must be The Alchemist, right? thank God I found you. I have been looking for you.”
"Ahaha! That's why you busted the door open, hmm? It was really quite a lot of effort to make a lock that complex, you know, and people like you with your pliers and files just waltz right in anyway…"
The Alchemist's demeanor was emphatic to the degree that most would become uncomfortable quickly when faced with him. He was amicable, more so than the Keymaster at the very least. He had already trailed off and stopped looking at Adrian as he finished his speech.
"…you all expect so much from me, and get surprised when I take a half a dime in return—"
"—I- apologize, sir, but I must interrupt. Erm, as I was trying to say, I'm looking for-"
"-yes, yes, I know what it is you're looking for already."
Adrian feigns a cough.
“I'm sick with some kind of Backrooms nastiness. I know it’s isn’t SFV or the Hound virus or anything else that’s documented. I might be dying, and I think the only thing that can help me is that lense of yours…”
"Let's see… looks like you're fine to me, how peculiar…"
The Alchemist looked him over head to toe for signs of illness.
"W-well, sir, you see— I was on Level 10, minding my own business, when—"
"—ah! I see your problem. Have you had any run-ins with the Keymaster recently?"
Adrian seemed flabbergasted at this question.
“Why do you ask?”
"I see. You've barged into my home, come for my help, and you won't even be honest with me. I'm a nice, easygoing individual if I do say so myself, so let's do this one more time! Have you had any run-ins with the Keymaster recently?"
At this question, Adrian went into fight-or-flight. Would he lie further for the Keymaster, or would that dig his grave deeper? His eyes darted around momentarily as he squirmed inside his own head, though he quickly composed himself.
“I…have made a lot of mistakes recently. The one I am making now started with another some weeks ago. I was assigned to interview The Keymaster, but I asked the wrong questions and then…”
He seemed to have difficulty finding the proper words to describe what happened to him.
“I have these abilities, but I am under his control. And he wanted me to snatch your lens.” He threw his hands up in the air. “That is the honest to god truth, I swear.”
"…Alright!" the Alchemist replied. "I believe you."
"You- you do?"
"Yes. I can see you're telling the truth, see! It wasn't so hard, was it? —don't answer that."
"Okay! Well, now the Keymaster is going to make my brain implode or something like that unless you have some way to get me out of this!"
The Alchemist saw many things in Adrian, but chief among them was his height. Oh, and his potential.
"Indeed… I suppose there is one way. Just cease to be his little guy, and become my little guy instead, alright? How's that sound?".”
Adrian’s anxiety seemed to subside into curiosity as he looked down at the Alchemist.
“And what would that be?”
"Well, sure you'd need to become my errand boy… but I suffice for my own errands most days, you needn't worry. You'll get a fraction of my sight, my golden blood, my general… awe factor, eh?"
He just stared at Adrian, waiting for some confirmation. No such confirmation came for an hour-felt split second while Adrian considered his options. As luck would have it, his migraine returned.
He could almost feel the Keymaster’s repulsion towards this idea, which seemed to come through his own words as well.
“So, I free myself from being the errand boy of one god to be the errand boy of another…”
He sighed. The perks sounded better, at least. “…Fine.”
The Alchemist's grin crept up from ear to ear as he clicked his fingers. Something thick and black that smelled like rusty keys escaped Adrian's ear, which the Alchemist soon jarred; for the museum, certainly. For a fraction of a moment, everything was normal again. research, of course.
As this happened, Adrian gasped, as if surfacing above the water after a long dive. His vision seems more clear, his mind less noisy. “His voice…it’s gone…” he said, chuckling somewhat. “But what now?”
He began to notice, however, that his mind became even clearer, and even more noiseless yet — he was beginning to notice that his mind was clearer than it had ever been, in truth. Clearer than he was primed for. He put a hand to his face, and noticed a pair of glasses.
"Well, you could start by getting me a doughnut."