They arrived at the edge of a memory so deeply buried that even the stars had forgotten its name.
The Vault.
It was neither a chamber nor a sanctuary.
It was a wound.
A scar carved into the very bones of the Null Realm by gods desperate to hide what they feared most.
The air itself twisted around the Vault, thick and heavy.
Light bent unnaturally—refracted through a prism of forgotten time.
Shadows fell in impossible directions, cast by no source.
Silence here was deafening.
Rael felt the weight of it pressing into his spine.
A cold pulse that whispered, This place remembers.
"This place… it's alive," he murmured, his voice nearly lost in the suffocating stillness.
Caelum said nothing.
He stepped forward with the quiet certainty of one walking a path well known.
The entrance was stark.
A towering wall of black glass, perfectly smooth and unyielding, stood between two fractured pillars.
No carvings or inscriptions.
No keyhole.
No door.
No visible way in.
But the glass seemed to watch them, reflecting back something ancient and patient.
Rael's skin prickled with unease.
Caelum raised his hand.
Twelve runes glowed softly across his palm.
Each rune was a mark of loss—etched in memory rather than matter.
Loss of gods.
Loss of laws.
Loss of love and trust, buried deep beneath layers of betrayal.
With deliberate calm, Caelum pressed his glowing palm against the glass.
Nothing happened.
The Vault remained silent and unmoved.
Then, very slowly, it shuddered.
The air thickened as if the realm itself held its breath.
Rael's boots sank slightly into the floor, which pulsed beneath his feet like a beating heart.
Cracks began to spiderweb across the black glass.
Not clean fractures, but veins, as if the wall was bleeding memory.
From those cracks leaked something indescribable—lightless, soundless, but unmistakably alive.
The glass peeled away, dissolving like smoke.
Revealing the Vault's vast interior.
Rael stepped inside but froze.
In the chamber's center lay the Dragon.
It breathed softly.
Not with fire or fury, but with an ancient, tired patience.
Its wings were folded tightly, shimmering like galaxies trapped in frozen sleep.
Its scales were dark mirrors reflecting not what was, but what could have been.
A thousand possible futures writhed and died quietly within its coils.
Its eyes opened.
Twin voids stared without emptiness, full instead—too full.
The Dragon fixed its gaze on Caelum.
Not as master.
Not even as equal.
But as something primal.
Something awakened.
And then, with deliberate grace, it bowed.
Rael's legs locked.
His heart thundered painfully in his chest.
The presence of the Dragon was overwhelming—a living storm contained.
The creature's gaze tore at the threads of Rael's thoughts, unraveling certainty and doubt alike.
"What is that?" Rael gasped, voice shaking.
Caelum's reply was low and slow.
"A part of me."
"Severed long ago."
"Left behind to guard the door I could no longer open."
The Dragon shifted its immense gaze to Rael.
And Rael felt it see him—past the boy he was, beyond the fears and scars.
It saw the man he had yet to become.
Behind the Dragon, an imposing door stood.
No handle.
No hinges.
No sign it could be opened by force.
Only silent expectation.
Caelum gestured forward.
"Approach."
Rael's throat tightened.
"I don't know how."
"You don't need to," Caelum said, voice steady.
"This door does not open to force."
"Then what?"
Caelum met Rael's eyes with a single, steady look.
"With truth."
Rael took a slow step forward.
The floor beneath him seemed to shift—though it did not move physically.
It was as if the very ground was bending around memories, welcoming him.
He reached out, placing his hand on the door.
It was cool, almost liquid to the touch.
He felt it breathe with him—responding to his presence, to the weight of his soul.
"What if I'm not ready?" he whispered, doubt tightening like a noose.
Caelum stood behind him, calm and resolute.
"Then the Vault will show you why you must be."
Rael closed his eyes, took a steadying breath.
And pushed.
The door did not open.
It welcomed him.
The Vault—silent and sealed for ages—sang once more.
Its song was not sound but sensation.
A stirring of ancient power.
A ripple through space and time.
A long-forgotten promise rekindled.
Rael stepped fully inside.
He felt the gravity of history—of loss and hope—pressing in from all sides.
The journey had only just begun.