The stair narrowed as it twisted deeper into the Vault's core. With each step, the air thickened—not with moisture or heat, but with presence. It felt like they were walking not through space, but through time folded in on itself.
Corren was the first to speak.
"This close to the Core Gate, the defense systems get... personal."
Kael nodded. "House Morran were paranoid. They built mazes out of memory."
At the base of the stair, a broad chamber opened like a lung. It was featureless, smooth stone stretching into the distance, lit from no visible source. The moment they stepped inside, the door behind them vanished.
Lira spun. "Gone."
Corren muttered, "Here we go."
They moved as a unit, staying close.
The first trap sprang without warning.
A sharp crack of light, then silence—and Kael was suddenly alone.
The corridor had vanished.
He stood in a narrow room lit by torchlight, a memory echo running full force. Men and women sat around him at a stone table, arguing about borders, about Houses, about Vault access. Their faces were blurred, voices warped. But they all turned toward him.
"You were supposed to protect it," one said.
"You promised," another whispered.
Kael backed away—and the room melted.
The next scene dropped over him like water: Lira screaming, smoke rising behind her. A hand, his hand, holding a weapon pointed at—
"No."
Kael closed his eyes, knelt, pressed his palms to the ground.
This isn't mine. This isn't now.
He reached outward—not physically, but through something deeper. His instincts snapped into place.
There.
A glyph hidden in the corner of the room. The symbol malformed, its lines twisted to induce recursion. A trap designed to feed on the mind's loops.
Kael traced the correct version with a fingertip in the air.
"Anchor. Uncoil. Unloop."
The room collapsed inward like paper set to flame.
Kael found himself standing in the center of the real chamber again—Lira on one side, Corren on the other, both blinking, just now shaking free of their own illusions.
Lira reached for his arm. "You broke it."
Kael looked around. "House Morran coded the loop traps to respond to emotional overload. But they never accounted for someone who already knew the burden."
Corren looked at him differently now. Not with suspicion.
With something closer to respect.
"This place tried to turn you against yourself," he said. "And you held."
Kael didn't answer.
But his jaw was tight, and his eyes were focused.
Whatever lay ahead, he was ready to face it.