The air in the tomb tasted of scorched copper and pressurized elemental mana, vibrating with the raw, volatile power of the seven matrices Loryn had prepared.
Above them, the massive chains groaned.
Vaelok-Tor strained forward against his obsidian pillars, his mountain-sized horned head lowering as his burning golden eyes locked onto Jack. The ancient Celestial Archon took a deep, shuddering breath, the sonic rumble vibrating through the bedrock.
"You returned whole," Vaelok-Tor rumbled, his stone-hewn face etched with profound disbelief. "You stepped into the Crucible of the dead Wardens, unarmored and alone, and your ego did not shatter. You carry no wounds upon your spirit."
The Archon's gaze narrowed, his ancient divine perception piercing straight into Jack's soul.
He saw the Dark Sigil. He saw the dormant draconic covenant. But then, deep within the architecture of Jack's meridians, Vaelok-Tor sensed the second soul.
