The stairs beyond the fallen Sentinels spiraled downward like a broken helix, each step slick with condensation and time. The deeper they went, the more the silence pressed inward—dense, smothering, almost aware.
Haruto didn't speak. None of them did.
They descended into a vault so massive it seemed impossible it could exist underground. Colossal stone arches stretched above them like the ribs of some buried titan. At the center of the chamber, half-submerged in silver mist, stood a pedestal—ancient, cracked, and pulsing with a dim, purple glow.
Serenya raised a hand, casting a soft detection spell. "It's old magic. Living. I've never seen this type before."
Lucien approached cautiously, but Haruto moved ahead of them, drawn by something beyond reason.
The pedestal had no script, no runes. Only a depression at its top, perfectly shaped for a blade.
The Nullblade vibrated faintly.
Haruto hesitated.
Then he heard it.
A voice—low, ancient, and distorted—like a whisper from the bottom of a well. "Why do you carry the blade that should not be held?"
He spun around. No one was there.
"Why does the exile chase gods with a weapon of rebellion?"
It wasn't spoken aloud. It echoed inside his head.
Haruto fell to his knees, gripping his skull. The voice burrowed into his mind, not like words—but like memories trying to return.
He saw flashes: a burning city not of this world, a throne of ash, a familiar face screaming his name—before being erased from existence.
Then nothing.
"Haruto!" Serenya's voice yanked him back.
He blinked. The pedestal was glowing, and the mist had pulled away as if afraid of him.
Lucien gripped his sword, his voice tight. "What happened?"
Haruto rose slowly. "It spoke to me."
Serenya's eyes narrowed. "The pedestal?"
"No," Haruto said. "Something beneath it."
The stone beneath their feet suddenly pulsed.
A low groan rumbled through the chamber—ancient gears turning, old doors unlatching.
Then, at the far wall, a hidden gate ground open. From beyond it, a draft of cold air swept in—along with the scent of metal and dust. And deeper within… something stirred.
Lucien met Haruto's gaze. "I think we just woke up something that should've stayed buried."
Haruto sheathed the Nullblade. "Then we make sure it doesn't wake up angry."