Li Wei's eyes narrowed as he stood before the colossal granite door, its surface mottled by age and faint veins of quartz that caught the torchlight like distant stars. The chamber around him was silent save for a distant drip of water echoing from some unseen fissure. He shifted his weight uneasily, toes crunching upon the grit-strewn floor. Several keyholes yawned upon the door's face — not one but many — each ringed with tiny runic engravings, worn but legible under scrutiny.
He lifted a hand, flexing fingers as though wrestling with some unseen weight. His third eye glowed faintly behind closed lids; within its vision, the door's inner mechanisms unfolded like a living map of cogs and valves, shafts and axles. One wrong insertion… the thought haunted him like a specter.
Leng Yue stood a pace behind him, candle in hand, its flame dancing shadows across the stony walls. She strode forward, lips pursed, and brushed a fingertip across one of the keyholes — a tiny shudder ran through the metal. She withdrew quickly, as though stung. The gust of air she left behind stirred dust motes in the beam of light.
"See how even the door quivers at our approach," she murmured, tone tight. "The previous occupants of this place went to great lengths to ensure outsiders did not proceed." She swiveled to survey the chamber: walls pocked with niches and faint seams, floor tiles cracked in places, hints of disuse and death.
Li Wei's brow fettered into a frown. "Breaking the door would trigger all the traps at once," he said—and the weight of that statement served as though he carried lead in his lungs. He shut his third eye and let his normal vision return. The keyholes now looked innocuous, unthreatening masks hiding lethal intent.
Leng Yue nodded slowly, stepping to his side and lowering her voice to a whisper, though the cavernous space swallowed it almost entirely. "The door itself cannot be unlocked, not by force or finesse. We must find a way to destroy it without disturbing those infernal mechanisms."
Li Wei's mind raced. If I force it… if I strike with arcane flame… No, too likely to ignite the hidden flint. The gas valve beneath the floor loomed in his mind's eye, unseen but fated. One mis-turn, one misstep, and this room would turn into a furnace. He swallowed. "We need to freeze the hinges and open the panel of this door," he said firmly. He pointed at the metal hinges where they met the granite, overlaid with protective plates and glyphs.
Leng Yue's eyes glinted. She tucked the candle beneath her cloak, then leaned forward to examine the hinge bolts. She traced a finger across a rune that whispered of preservation and cold. "If we can still the motion, stall the gears long enough, we may pry a seam and slip inside the inner panel."
He nodded. "The next phase is delicate. Use a mental apparition and manifest a hand." His voice was low, solemn, like a priest invoking ritual. He closed his eyes, grounding his spirit, and called forth the mental apparition — a silvery, translucent hand, shimmering with ethereal frost. The phantom's fingers unfurled, skeletal but strong.
Leng Yue drew a breath and mirrored him. Soon, two apparition hands hovered before them, veined with frosty power, pulsing faintly in the gloom. Li Wei directed his to one hinge; Leng Yue's to the opposite hinge on the door's edge.
They approached the door, their real bodies a hair's breadth from the surface. Li Wei's apparition finger curled around a hinge bolt. At his command, it exhaled a swirl of white frost, creeping outward onto the hinge joint. The cold bit into metal, like winter's breath biting into living flesh. The hinge stiffened, minute ice crystals forming where gear teeth and bolt faces met. ~ sssss as frost the spread.
Leng Yue's apparition likewise seized her hinge, coaxing cold to seep into the joints. The hinges groaned, metal contracting, resisting. Dust shivered off the edges; the room grew stiller, breath held. Li Wei's real hand gripped the stone beside the hinge, steadying himself.
"Now," he whispered. "Pull the door in tandem, but be careful." His real hand clasped a protruding decorative ridge on the door's face. Leng Yue did the same on her side, fingertips feeling the cold, carved reliefs.
They inhaled together; and then, as one, they tugged. The door resisted. Metal teeth ground within, locked cogs straining. The frost held the hinges, slowing their motion. For a tense heartbeat, nothing moved. Then — a faint crack as the first lock yielded.
A tremor echoed through the stone. Dust showered down. The door inched inward. The inner panel, concealed behind an outer shell of granite, began to shift. Their apparition hands hovered, ready to maintain the frost to keep gears from seizing.
Leng Yue's pulse threatened to burst in her throat. She glimpsed a seam forming — narrow, pinprick width — along the inner edge. A dozen possibilities raced through her mind. But the mechanism held. Another cautious tug, and the panel slid half an inch, revealing the inner sanctum behind.
A hiss of released pressure or lost vacuum — she could not tell — whispered from within. The chamber beyond lay veiled in shadow, gate black, yet the faint silver gleam of mechanisms and a gilt arch was visible. The faint scent of stale air, dust, and ancient metal lingered.
Li Wei widened the opening just enough to slip his head through. His eyes adjusted; the inner chamber was a narrow corridor, walls studded with carved reliefs of beasts and serpents, glyphs that matched those on the door. Beneath, the floor sloped gently downward. He looked back to Leng Yue. "Stay ready. One misstep, one tremor, and the door may spring shut." He withdrew his apparition hand slowly, letting the frost recede in a controlled retreat. The gears behind the panel, now unburdened, remained still for now.
Leng Yue nodded, bringing her real body forward. She shed the remnants of the apparition, flexed her fingers, and pressed her face near the opening. She detected faint heat gradients — odd, for a sealed room — and the whisper of hidden vents. She stretched one hand into the crack, fingertips touching the cold brass rim of the opening.
Suddenly — a tremor from beneath their feet. The stone floor rattled. Dust cascaded from above. Leng Yue gasped, drawing back. Li Wei lunged, bracing her shoulder, but the corridor beyond shook, the doorframe groaning as if the entire structure resented intrusion. ~ rumble.
They froze. For a heart-beat neither moved. The labyrinth beyond drew breath. Then, a low rumble: distant gears turning. An ominous click. The door panel trembled, as though threatening to snap shut behind them. Li Wei's heart hammered.
Leng Yue hissed, "The mechanisms stir! We must enter swiftly or be sealed out — or worse, sealed in with the gas valve release." She forced her body halfway in, seeking purchase inside the chamber. Li Wei followed, stepping gingerly, careful not to step on tiles bearing hidden glyphs.
Inside, they found themselves in a narrow passage lined with ancient stone and metal conduits. The air felt stale, heavy, and strangely warm in places — a silent warning. Their footsteps echoed. Lengthy corridors and distant vaults beckoned.
Li Wei glanced at the door behind them — a narrowing slit of granite. If it jolted shut, they would be locked in a chamber whose every surface was a trap. He stole a look at Leng Yue, whose face was pale but determined.
He inhaled. "We proceed," he said. "Eyes open. Voices low. And no misstep, for the way is laced with death." He led onward, pressing a shoulder against the inner wall to steady himself. Leng Yue followed, fingertips grazing runes carved into the stone — each one ominous, each one a potential trigger.
As they moved deeper, the corridor sloped downward and turned; faint glimmers of metal behind wall panels gleamed. Occasional grates on the floor suggested vents or hidden channels. Leng Yue paused to study them, placing her palm carefully on a grate. It rattled faintly, as though hollow beneath. She withdrew, uneasy.
Li Wei raised a finger, pointing to a seam in the wall. "That panel may conceal a bypass lever or a safety override." He stepped forward and pressed the lip. It yielded a little, then snapped outwards — but held by a catch. He touched the catch, and the panel swung inward, revealing a small niche. Inside, a slender rod etched with runes and a thin cloth-wrapped cylinder of unknown metal.
Leng Yue peered. "A control rod… or a bypass key. This likely links to the valves." She reached in slowly, fingertips brushing the rod. At once, the corridor shuddered and a low click sounded from behind.
She froze, hand half in. Li Wei's eyes snapped to the slitted door behind them. The outer panel had shifted a hair — the gap closing. Panic flared; but Leng Yue withdrew swiftly the rod, panel closed behind her. The corridor trembled. Then silence. The door behind remained ajar for now.
Li Wei exhaled, voice nearly a whisper. "Well taken. That rod might give us authority over the valve beneath the floor — if we can find the linkage." He placed the rod into a slot carved in the wall, where other rods had fit. The glyphs matched. The rod glowed faintly, humming. Somewhere ahead, a distant hiss — as though a valve hissed or a seal released air. The walls vibrated.
Leng Yue's breath caught. "We must be near the valve chamber." She touched the wall where the hum pulsed. The corridor ahead bent left; a faint pale glow awaited. They crept forward.
The corridor opened into a larger vault: circular, with floor inlaid with concentric rings and a central grate. Metal pipes ran into the floor from walls; the central grate bore the faintest signs of gas residue — a dark stain. Above, a domed ceiling carved with scenes of gas and flame — a dire warning.
Li Wei set the rod in a carved socket at the far wall; the runes in the wall flared, activating hidden conduits. Wheels and shafts behind the panels began to whirl. The hum grew louder — but now it was under their control. A valve beneath the floor hissed — ssssss — but it did not fully open.
Leng Yue placed a hand on the grate, feeling heat faintly radiating. She withdrew. "The rod stabilizes the valve — restrains its full opening." She looked to Li Wei. "We can cross, but not stay near the grate."
He nodded. They skirted the circumference, stepping on the safe glyphed lines, avoiding the central area. Then they reached a further gate — stone and metal, sealed. The keyholes glimmered faintly in the rod's glow. Li Wei's third eye flickered. He turned to Leng Yue: "We have bought reprieve, but the true trial remains ahead."