The spiral door pulsed before him, alive with light.
Kael stood alone at its threshold, the Echoheart burning against his chest—not with heat, but with pressure, like a heartbeat shared between him and the stone.
He reached forward.
As his palm touched the center of the spiral, the glyphs responded—not in sequence, but in rhythm. Circles lit one by one, like echoes returning home. The room darkened, and the spiral brightened.
Not a door, Kael thought. A pulse. A memory cycle.
Above, a tremor shook loose a sheet of stone.
Voices shouted from the corridor beyond. Two figures emerged through a cracked stairwell—Elira, dust-covered and wide-eyed, followed by Tovan with his weapon drawn.
"Kael!" Elira called. "You're alive—thank the roots!"
Tovan stepped forward, eyes fixed on the spiral. "What are you doing?"
"I have to open it," Kael said. "It's time."
"No. We don't even know what's behind that thing."
Kael's gaze didn't shift. "We're not supposed to know. Not until it opens."
Elira stepped between them, torn. "Kael, if you go through with this… there's no turning back."
He nodded. "I know."
The final ring ignited.
The chamber trembled. The spiral uncoiled—not outward, but inward, folding space into itself.
A line split the wall vertically. Not a crack. Not a break.
A tear.
Beyond it: darkness. But not empty. It swirled with motion, like thought made visible. The pressure intensified. Sounds came with it—whispers layered over song, like a choir learning its own words for the first time.
Light burst from the seal, illuminating the chamber in impossible geometry. Murals came to life, showing figures from other times—past Bearers, locked in battle, in flight, in silence.
One woman—half-forgotten by history—turned toward Kael across time.
"Kael?" she whispered.
His breath caught.
She said his name. Across time, across seals. He didn't know why it mattered, but it did.
The doorway widened.
The chamber behind it fell away like smoke.
In its place stretched a void of light and broken architecture: towers suspended sideways, stairs leading into fog, bridges half-formed from memory. The very air shimmered like water rippling beneath stars.
The Echovault.
Kael took a step forward—and the world rippled around him.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the relic surged—and the air felt thinner, hungrier, like the Vault itself had lungs.
Tovan grabbed his shoulder. "You don't know what's in there."
Kael looked back. "Neither does it know me."
He stepped through.
Elira followed without hesitation.
Tovan lingered for a long breath, then swore under his breath. "This is madness."
And followed.
Behind them, the spiral seal slowly closed, threads of relic light twisting shut like the iris of an ancient eye.
The Echovault waited.
And what was sealed now watched back.