"It's not meant to be liked," Lindarion said quietly. "This was built as a convergence chamber. They used to anchor energy here, hundreds of channels, all pouring into one core."
"Used to?"
He glanced toward a nearby wall. The runes there had melted together, forming a pattern like eyes that had wept molten silver. "Now it bleeds instead of binds."
The air grew warmer as they descended, tinged with the scent of ozone and ash. The walls curved inward until they finally opened into a massive hollow, a cavern vast enough to hold a city.
At its center hung a suspended orb of raw mana, larger than any building above ground. It floated in midair, anchored by streams of energy that arced from the walls like tendrils. The light it gave off was not pure. It flickered between gold and green, streaked with black veins that pulsed like infection.
Ashwing whispered, "Is that the core?"
"It was." Lindarion's voice was low, reverent and wary all at once. "Now it's something else."
