The mountain had gone quiet. Too quiet.
Lucen pushed off the boulder he'd been slouched against, joints stiff, lungs still aching. The air was colder now, stripped bare by the guardian's collapse, snow falling in fragile flakes across the shattered ridge.
Ahead, the vault's entrance glimmered faintly against the scarred slope, a tall, jagged seam of black metal half-buried in ice, pulsing once every few seconds like it had a heartbeat.
"Not a door," Lucen muttered, dragging his gloves tighter. "It's an invitation to get eaten."
Varik stepped forward without hesitation, boots crunching through frost. His blade rested casually in one hand, but his shoulders were taut. Selindra followed at his side, silent, eyes narrowed at the strange seam.
Lucen hung back a pace, lips quirking. "Love the enthusiasm. Nothing says caution like running headfirst into abyssal architecture."
Selindra glanced over her shoulder. "If you're afraid, stay out here."
