The vault door peeled back with a sound like tearing flesh, revealing a chamber that defied all laws of physics and good taste. Amasu's torch sputtered as the air inside rushed out - not the expected musty tomb-breath, but something warm and metallic that coated their tongues with the taste of old pennies and spoiled honey.
Kaito's mechanical arm whirred in protest as its sensors overloaded. "What in the nine hells..."
Before them stretched a gallery of nightmares made tangible. The walls pulsed gently, lined with what appeared to be veins of gold until you looked closer and realized they were actual veins, pumping some dark fluid through transparent tubing. Glass display cases floated without support, each containing artifacts that straddled the line between art and abomination.
Amasu's ocular lenses zoomed in on the nearest case, where a diadem of fingerbones rested on velvet. "Are those...?"
"Indeed chil. These are the philanges of children turned beasts," Lynn confirmed grimly. The smallest bones had been gilded and connected with silver wire, each joint holding a different gemstone in its delicate grip. A tag beneath it read: "Crown of Inherited Sins - 3rd Dynasty"
Hashiba moved past a collection of pocket watches with faces made from stretched human skin, their hands fashioned from sharpened ribs. His boots sank slightly into the floor, which yielded like living tissue beneath his weight. "This whole place is alive."
At the chamber's heart stood the main display - an anatomical model of a heart constructed entirely from rubies and black diamonds, suspended in a tank of swirling crimson fluid. With each pulse of the vault's walls, the gemstone heart contracted, sending fresh rivulets through its intricate tubing.
But Lynn's attention was drawn to the simple wooden box resting on an unadorned pedestal behind it. Unlike the other treasures screaming for attention, this one seemed to repel light, its surface carvings shifting like snakes under oil whenever he blinked.
The temperature plummeted so fast their breath fogged in the suddenly arctic air. Kaito's mechanical fingers froze mid-reach toward a display of eyeball snuffboxes, the joints locking up with audible cracks of forming ice.
Hashiba knew what was coming before he saw it - the scent of burnt cinnamon and wet earth flooded his nostrils, the same combination that haunted his nightmares. His sword cleared its sheath with a sound like a dying man's last gasp, but his muscles locked before he could complete the draw.
Behind the ruby heart display, the shadows congealed into something tall and wrong. First came the boots - polished officer's leather that made no sound as they touched the living floor. Then the longcoat, its fabric seeming to drink the light rather than reflect it. Finally, the porcelain mask emerged from the darkness, its smooth surface reflecting their distorted faces back at them.
"Remarkable work," Uragiri purred, his voice layered with something ancient beneath the cultured tones. He gestured to the frozen Kaito. "I particularly enjoyed watching you disable the security systems. That little trick with the liquid memory? Inspired."
Amasu's whip snapped out in a silver flash - only to stop dead in mid-air, the monofilament straining against invisible bonds. Her ocular implant screeched a warning as it attempted to analyze the phenomenon, then shorted out in a burst of sparks.
Uragiri tilted his head, the mask's expression somehow conveying amusement despite its fixed features. "Must we do this? After you've gone through all the trouble of retrieving my employer's property?" He waved a gloved hand at the vault's contents. "Take your payment. That cardiovascular sculpture is worth twelve city blocks. The spinal cord tiara? Priceless."
His masked face turned toward Lynn. "Just leave the box."
Lynn's fingers twitched toward his revolver, but the shadows at his feet writhed to life, coiling up his legs like vines of living darkness. The wooden box on the pedestal began vibrating, emitting a subsonic hum that made their teeth ache and their vision blur.
"You really don't want to open that, Captain," Uragiri murmured, taking a step forward. With each movement, the shadows in the room pulsed in sync, as if he were connected to the vault itself. "Some knowledge burns worse than bullets. Eats at you from the inside."
Hashiba strained against his invisible bonds, veins standing out on his forehead. "What the hell are you?"
The mask turned toward him, and for the first time, Hashiba saw his own reflection in it - but wrong. His dream-self, the one who whispered terrible truths in the dark.
His sight became blurry with rage as this was exactly what happened in his dream. In his ear was a piercing ring that echoed through his sinuses. The stench of sweat and blood overwhelmed him and the dry taste in his mouth worsened.
"Disappointed you have to ask," Uragiri sighed. He raised one hand, and the box's latch began to tremble. "But perhaps a demonstration..."
Amasu screamed a warning as the lid started to lift on its own. Kaito's mechanical arm sparked violently as he fought the paralysis. Lynn's eyes widened as he saw what was inside -
The box's latch gave way with a sound like cracking ice.
Lynn's fingers brushed the lid—
A shadow moved faster than light.
Uragiri's pistol pressed against Lynn's forehead before anyone could blink. The barrel—carved from blackened bone—thrummed with unnatural warmth. Up close, Lynn could see the tiny veins pulsing beneath the porcelain mask, the way Uragiri's breathing didn't quite sync with his chest's rise and fall.
The vault held its breath.
Amasu's whip lay frozen mid-lash. Kaito's mechanical arm sparked in aborted motion. Hashiba's sword trembled an inch from its sheath, his muscles locked in familiar nightmare paralysis.
"No last words?" Uragiri's whisper slithered through the chamber. The mask tilted, reflecting Lynn's own hollow eyes back at him. "No desperate questions?"
Lynn's thumb hovered over the box's edge.
The hammer cocked.
Click.