They moved at dusk.
No rest.No fire.No wasted breath.
The third Vault wasn't far now.But the pull was different.Colder.Tighter.
Like it didn't want to be found.
They entered the canyon just past midnight.
Walls towered like graves.Symbols carved into every stone—unreadable.Constantly shifting.
The girl paused."Do you hear that?"
The boy nodded.
He did.
A hum.
Not sound—frequency.
Like the world was singing in a voice too deep to hear.
The Vault was underground.
They knew without speaking.
The sword pulsed once in his hand.
He pressed his palm to the stone.
It melted.
No chakra.Just will.
Below—stairs carved in spirals.
The deeper they went,the colder it got.
Not freezing.
Just… lifeless.
At the bottom—a door.
Metal.Massive.Covered in moving symbols.
They slithered across the surface, alive.
The girl reached to touch one.
The boy stopped her.
"Don't. These are thoughts. Not words."
She blinked. "Thoughts?"
He nodded.
"From a mind that hasn't stopped calculating in centuries."
Then the door asked:
"WHAT IS THE PRICE OF PATTERNS?"
He didn't speak.Not out loud.
His eye glowed.The symbols paused.
A single phrase appeared across the door:
"Consciousness."
The door opened.
Vault #4 was made of glass.
Every wall—transparent.
Inside them, floating pieces.
Hearts.Fingers.Eyes.
All labeled.All spinning in place.
Thousands of them.
The girl gasped.
"These are… preserved parts."
He stepped forward.
"This Vault didn't hold a person."
"It created one."
The center of the room was hollow.
No coffin.No throne.Just a sphere.
Floating.
Inside—a child's skull.Polished.Covered in etched formulas.
The moment he stepped near—
The skull opened its mouth.
And spoke.
"QUERY: AUTHORIZATION CODE?"
He paused.
Didn't answer.
The sword in his hand whispered something.
A number.
He spoke it aloud.
"Thirteen. Point. Zero. Five."
The Vault paused.
Then—
ACCESS GRANTED.
The sphere shattered.
A shockwave burst through the chamber.
The glass walls cracked.
The pieces spun faster.
Then stopped.
The skull floated to him.
And spoke again.
But not in commands.
In memories.
Flash—
A lab.Buried deep beneath the Mist.Children wired to machines.
A man in white.
Laughing.
"If we can't build gods, we'll simulate them."
Then—
The skull's final memory.
A boy with no mouth.Eyes stitched shut.Tears made of numbers.
Screaming in silence.
He fell to his knees.
The girl caught him.
"What did it show you?"
He whispered:
"The fourth Vault wasn't a prison."
"It was a blueprint."
"For what?"
He looked at the floating pieces still spinning.
"For a god who could predict every war."
"Before it happened."
Suddenly—
A figure stepped through the glass.
Unannounced.
Unseen.
No footsteps.
No sound.
The girl raised a kunai.
The boy didn't move.
He already knew.
The mask.
The tattoos.
The black eyes.
Him.
The one from the mirror.
The masked man walked forward.
He didn't speak to them.
Only to the Vault.
"You've been asleep too long."
He raised a hand.
A seal formed.
But not with chakra.
With math.
The pieces stopped spinning.
Froze.
Then cracked.
The skull let out a scream.
Digital.
Metallic.
Shattering.
The masked man caught it mid-fall.
Crushed it in his palm.
Turned to the boy.
"That was never meant for you."
The girl stepped between them.
The man didn't flinch.
Just looked at her.
Then at the sword.
"Four open. Two remain."
He stepped closer.
And for the first time—
the boy saw it.
Behind the mask—
was another eye.
One like his.
But cracked.
Bleeding.
Alive.
The masked man spoke one final word:
"Catch up."
Then vanished.
No flash.
No sound.
Just gone.
Silence again.
Then—
A pulse.
Not from the Vault.
From the sword.
A new eye opened near the tip.
Wider.
Angrier.
The boy fell to one knee.
His veins darkened.
The girl grabbed him.
Held him steady.
"What's happening?!"
He gritted his teeth.
"The fourth Vault fused."
"It's inside me now."
She pulled back.
Afraid.
He didn't blame her.
Even he could feel it—
The hum behind his thoughts.
The equations writing themselves under his skin.
When they surfaced—
The stars had changed.
He noticed it instantly.
Two constellations missing.
As if erased.
She didn't ask.
She could tell by the look on his face—
Something else had woken.
Not a Vault.
Something watching.
He turned south.
Toward the next Vault.
But the ground beneath him whispered now.
Not in voices.
In warnings.
He whispered back:
"Too late. I'm already part of the chain."
To be continued.