Chapter 314: The Inner Sanctum
The heavy wooden door of the Royal Archives groaned shut behind us, sealing us in darkness. But it wasn't the dusty, dry darkness of a library vault.
It was humid. Hot. The air smelled of wet earth, ozone, and something metallic—like blood left out in the sun.
"Nova, widen the beam," I whispered.
The light from my wrist-comp cut through the gloom, revealing that we were no longer in a man-made structure. We were inside the organism itself.
The Royal Archives weren't just a room; they were an atrium hollowed out of the petrified heartwood of the World Tree's central taproot. The walls weren't stone—they were massive, curving walls of cellular cellulose, glowing with a faint, dying amber light. It felt less like a vault and more like the inside of a gargantuan lung.
"It's... breathing," Leon whispered, his hand resting on the wall. He pulled it back quickly. The wood was warm and pulsing.
