THE TEMPLE DOOR stood open, and from it emerged a splendor that seemed to spring from the center of the Earth. Open-mouthed and enchanted, Gregory Evans and his companion crossed the threshold, joined by the Custodes. The interior architectural lines were completely identical to those of Renaissance cathedrals.
There was a main nave — flanked by formal arches, precisely aligned on both sides of the galleries— which, in turn, was crossed by another, transversal one, located beyond the crossing. In the background, between the set of naves that surrounded what would have been the central altar and the presbytery, instead of the altar itself, they could see a stepped stone platform, with a rectangular base at its highest point.
Above her, as an allegory of her own immortality, was an ark the color of the sun, where the carved figures of two angels rested. Their wings stretched out until they touched at the tips, forming a perfect triangle, as well as a comfortable base. In reality, more than an ark, it seemed a heavenly throne for two people.
They entered the central nave, moved, admiring the pagan iconography carved into the arches: effigies of gargoyles, demons, and mythological beasts such as unicorns, griffins, chimeras, and sphinxes. Even though the intense light emanating from the Ark illuminated this architectural prodigy, the walls and columns retained that darkened color that the passage of time imparts to earth and humidity. The ceiling and vault were lost in the heights of that stone colossus that diminished the human being to the point of converting him to an insignificant speck of dust.
Gregory Evans stood in awe. The place gave him chills. It was like living a nightmare, the kind where horrifying specters from the darkness would soon emerge, beings from hell ready to devour his body and enslave his soul for all eternity.
On the other hand, he felt the well-being inspired by the presence of that relic, whose antiquity was truly lost in the memory of time. Emotions were mixed. Feeling gave way to the uncertainty that the inexplicable provokes, and then his thoughts fell into the nets of madness and irrationality. The last thing he expected was for God to take refuge in hell.
Balkis whispered a few words in her ear, begging her to be quiet. Then Hiram stepped between him and Giovanna, taking her left and right hands and joining them as one. Immediately, a distant voice was heard, coming from all directions, its words blending with the strains of a heavenly melody.
The voice told them, in secret, that the stones contained the souls of men who died after having received God's gift, and that all of them were, in themselves, part of the creative wisdom of the Universe. Likewise, it confessed to them that the stones were alive, as were the animal and plant kingdoms, but that man was dead and that, until he assumed the laws of knowledge of his own spirit, he would wander lost on Earth.
The voice faded as they stopped in front of the stairs. Seeing it so closely, Giovanna and Greg realized that the metal covering the Ark wasn't gold, but a completely unknown alloy. The radiance it emitted wavered from place to place, expanding and then retracting. It fluctuated randomly, like the phosphorescent stones in the last stretch of the hallway.
— It's called Electrum, also known as Orocalcum, and it's the lost metal of ancient civilizations — Balkis explained behind him, answering both of their inner questions, still unspoken. — Its atoms are capable of transmitting the primordial energy released after the birth of the Universe. The Throne will show you the mysteries of God, so that you can seal your alliance with Wisdom. Come, do not be afraid! Face your weaknesses.