The corridor sloped gently downward, carved from rock so black it seemed to swallow the light. The mana stones Elias had brought glowed only weakly now, as if the darkness were smothering them.
"We're getting close," Veridia murmured. "The air is heavier. Raw mana from the Heart seeps through the fissures."
Lyall felt his Teral react. The stone against his chest had awakened, not with its usual warmth, but with a dull, almost anxious vibration. As if it recognized this place.
"Do you feel that?" Lyra asked, her shadows stirring around her.
"The Void does not like the Heart," Elias replied. "And the Heart does not like the Void. You are natural opposites."
"Then why hasn't the Heart destroyed me?"
"Because you are not only Void," Elara said. "You are also human. Balance protects you."
Mira, still holding Lyall's hand, stared at the walls with wide eyes.
"There are faces," she said suddenly.
Lyall stopped. He looked where the girl was pointing.
In the rock, barely visible, crude sculptures depicted faces – dozens, perhaps hundreds. Their eyes were closed, their mouths open in stone silence.
"These are the deceased Archons," Veridia explained. "The first ones, those who built the Empire. Their bodies are not buried here, but their souls… they say they watch over the Heart."
"They also say they curse those who dare to defile it," Elias added.
"Charming," Lyra grumbled.
They advanced further. The corridor widened, then opened into a vertical chasm. A natural stone bridge spanned the void. Below, nothing but darkness no visible bottom, no sound, only absolute silence.
"Don't look down," Veridia ordered. "Some of our guides made that mistake. They never came back up."
"Because of the Void?" Lyra asked.
"Because of their own minds. The chasm causes vertigo that turns into hallucinations. You think you see things, and you jump."
Lyall squeezed Mira's hand.
"Close your eyes, okay? I'll guide you."
The girl obeyed.
They crossed the bridge one by one, slowly, arms outstretched for balance. Lyall felt the Teral vibrate more strongly with each step. In the middle of the bridge, a voice whispered his name.
Lyall…
He froze.
Lyall, come back…
It was his father's voice. Dead for years. Lyall knew it was a hallucination, but his heart still raced.
"It's not real," Elara said behind him. "Keep going."
"I know."
He moved forward. The voice faded.
On the other side, a bronze door awaited them. It was larger than any they had passed, and its panel depicted a tree roots below, branches above, and at the center, a beating heart.
"The Door of the First Archon," Veridia said. "No one has entered here since his death."
"How do we open it?" Elias asked.
"With blood."
She drew her dagger and cut her palm. The blood flowed, blackish from the necrosis. She smeared it over the carved heart.
The door groaned. Slowly, it opened.
Beyond lay a circular chamber, immense. Crystal columns supported a ceiling lost in shadow. At the center stood a sarcophagus of black brass, empty the First Archon's remains had been scattered, legend said. But above the sarcophagus floated an object.
A mirror.
It was not made of glass, but of a silvery liquid that rippled like a water surface. Mana runes ran along its copper frame.
"The Ether Mirror," Elias breathed. "Kaelen spoke of it. It reflects not faces, but truths."
"What truths?" Lyra asked.
"The ones you refuse to see."
Veridia stepped closer, fascinated.
"Vane has sought this mirror for years. He believes it can amplify his fusion with the Heart."
"And can it?" Lyall asked.
"Yes. But at a price."
She turned to him, her face livid.
"The mirror demands a sacrifice. A personal truth, revealed before it. If you lie, or if you are not ready to accept it… it burns you."
"What truth?" Elara asked.
"Yours. The one you hide even from yourself."
A heavy silence.
Lyall stepped toward the mirror.
"I'll do it."
"Lyall, no," Elara said.
"Someone has to. Otherwise we'll never know how to use this object against Vane."
He stood before the mirror. The silvery surface rippled, then stilled.
His reflection appeared but not the one he expected. He did not see his face, but a scene. Himself as a young man, in his father's forge. His father was speaking to him, but Lyall wasn't listening. He was looking elsewhere, eager to grow up, eager to become stronger.
You were never a present son, a voice said. You always wanted more. More power, more recognition. And when your father died, you didn't even cry.
"I cried," Lyall murmured.
No. You forged. You struck metal to avoid hearing your own grief. And you kept going, always, running away.
Tears welled in Lyall's eyes. He did not hold them back.
"You're right. I ran. I let work consume me. I let others die around me."
And now?
"Now, I stop running."
The mirror trembled. The silvery surface shattered like glass, then reformed – clearer, calmer.
An object fell from the frame: a small metal disk engraved with runes.
"The Mirror Seal," Veridia said. "It will allow us to activate the artifact when we face Vane."
Lyall picked up the disk. It was heavy, heavier than the Teral.
He turned to Elara. Her eyes were moist.
"You paid a price," she said.
"It was necessary."
"That doesn't make it right."
He shrugged.
"Justice is for afterward."
Elias approached the sarcophagus. He placed his hand on the black brass.
"There's something else here. A passage."
He pointed to a fissure behind the tomb.
"It leads directly to the Heart chamber. I can see it. In a few minutes, we will be before Vane."
"Then let's prepare," Lyra said.
They checked their weapons, their stones, their strength. Lyall fully activated his Teral – the warmth filled his chest, dense as a hammer. Elara drew her dagger. Elias took out the Counter-Keystone fragment. Lyra let her shadows spread, ready to strike.
Veridia, for her part, took no weapon. She no longer needed one.
"I will go first," she said. "When Vane sees me, he will be surprised. That will give you a second."
"One second is enough," Lyall said.
"Then let's go."
She entered the fissure, the others following.
The air grew scorching. Raw mana vibrated in the walls, so concentrated it blurred the vision. Lyall felt each beat of his heart, synchronized with the distant pulses of the Heart.
The fissure opened onto a suspended gallery.
Below, a titanic chamber.
At its center, suspended in a beam of golden light, an emaciated old man – the Supreme Archon. Copper tubes ran from his body, connecting him to a gigantic crystal sphere that beat like a heart.
And before him, arms open, stood Merikh Silas Vane.
He was different. His skin gleamed with a metallic sheen, and his eyes blazed with pure mana blue. The fusion had already begun.
"You're finally here," Vane said without turning around. "I've felt your stones ever since you passed through the Door."
He turned. His smile was that of a god.
"Welcome to my tomb."