The Vault had gone silent once more.
But it was not the silence of death or abandonment. It was a silence that settled deep into the bones, heavy and watchful—a silence that breathed, not in peace, but in reverence. It was the kind of stillness that came just before a storm breaks, before a verdict is passed, before the world shifts and nothing remains the same. It was the moment the universe holds its breath, not in hesitation, but in awe of what is to come. The air inside the Vault vibrated with unseen energy, thrumming against the fractured stone walls and worn runes beneath Selena's boots. Every crack in the floor, every mark etched by time, seemed to pulse with anticipation. The Hollow Court—its presence unspoken, its gaze invisible—was watching. Not as judge nor jury, but as witness to a sentence that had already been written into the marrow of fate.
