The path beyond the broken loop trap narrowed until it became a jagged crevice in the stone, forcing them to move single file. The silence pressed tighter with each step, as if the air itself resisted sound. Even their breath felt muffled.
Then the corridor widened again, and they entered a vast chamber so perfectly round it could not have been carved by hand.
At its far end stood a door unlike anything Kael had seen.
It was tall—three times his height—and shaped like a blade driven into the earth. The surface was made of black stone that shimmered with embedded silver filaments. No handles, no hinges, no visible seams. In its center pulsed a single sigil: not one of the known Houses, but a hybrid—spiral and anchor fused.
Kael knew it instantly.
"The Core Gate."
Lira approached carefully. "This isn't just a Vault. It's a lock."
Corren circled the edges, studying the glyphs along the floor.
"It's encoded to reject forced entry. Only opens with a paired mnemonic imprint."
Lira turned to Kael.
"You and I," she said softly.
Kael met her eyes. "Because you knew him. And I was him."
They stepped forward together. The door responded before they touched it.
Two rings of light flared beneath their feet—one gold, one deep blue.
Kael felt a pull in his chest, like a thread being drawn through his ribs. His mind brushed against hers—not words, not thoughts, but sensations. Firelight. A shared breath. A name spoken between heartbeats.
The sigil on the door flared white.
The stone began to part.
It didn't swing or slide. It simply ceased to be.
Beyond it was darkness—but not empty.
Suspended in the center of the chamber was a lattice of memory threads, shimmering like spider silk in moonlight. Each thread pulsed faintly, vibrating with quiet emotion. At the heart of the web floated a crystal shard, darker than the rest, wrapped in thin ribbons of silver.
Kael stepped forward. He didn't need guidance.
"This is the one," he said.
Lira's voice was barely audible.
"The memory you sealed yourself."