The vault entrance loomed ahead like a wound stitched into the earth—stone and alloy fused in a half-organic, half-ancient design. The stairs were exposed but weathered, descending into a throat of darkness veined with dim blue light. Wind didn't move here. Nothing did.
Kaela stepped closer, her visor dimming against the shifting glow of the embedded runes along the archway. Most of the symbols had faded, cracked through time or deliberate erasure. The ones that remained pulsed faintly—not with energy, but memory.
She crouched and ran her fingers along the lowest ring of text.
"None of these match standard system glyphs," she said. "This isn't just old tech. This is something the system itself abandoned."
Zeyna stood at the edge of the descent, staring down. "That's comforting."
"Don't fall back on sarcasm," Kaela said, straightening. "This place is sensitive to presence. Don't give it a shape to push against."
