Jack looked down at the humming artifact in his hand, his expression cold, steady, and devoid of fear.
"The Archon knows the craftsman," Jack murmured, raising the key toward his chest.
Vaelok-Tor's chains rattled violently as the titan strained against his obsidian pillars, his golden eyes wide with ancient, suffocating dread.
"Do you comprehend what rests within that iron, Successor?" the Archon bellowed, his voice vibrating through the white stone floor. "Malakai forged that key not as a tool of salvation, but as an eternal prison! It is a cage for the Soul Wardens who came before you. Those who failed their mantle, those who perished in the crucible of creation. Their souls were denied the cycle of death. They are bound within that vessel, barred from passing on until the Current Soul Warden permits their release!"
Jack looked at the shifting, iridescent metal in his hand, watching the microscopic gears turn on their own. "A failsafe."
