The chamber of silence was not a room.
It was a void dressed in stone.
The guards led Alessia down a corridor lined with sconces that burned blue instead of gold, their flames soundless, devouring even the faint whisper of their own existence.
Each step she took echoed for a breath, then died—as though the walls themselves swallowed all trace of noise.
The deeper they went, the colder the air became.
When the final iron door opened, the world ceased to breathe.
The chamber stretched vast and circular, its floor a mosaic of shifting black glass that reflected nothing—no shadow, no form, only the faint glint of distant light.
Twelve pillars ringed the room, each engraved with runes that pulsed faintly like heartbeats.
And in the center stood a single stone pedestal, carved with the Morano serpent biting its tail.
"This is where you will remain," one guard said, his voice oddly muffled—as though the air rejected sound itself. "Until the Rite is complete."
