The Repository swelled as more fragments were gathered. Each sorrow, each joy, each fleeting dream became a crystal echo within her halls. Together, they formed a symphony — a chorus of whispers that filled the endless corridors.
Laughter sang alongside grief, hope mingled with despair, and regret harmonized with love. The vaults became alive, resonant with the voices of countless souls. To walk the halls was to hear the heartbeat of existence itself.
The Autarch wandered these vaults often, her cloak of iridescence shimmering with every whisper. She did not claim the fragments as her own — she guarded them, nurtured them, allowed them to endure when memory alone would have faded.
In the silence of the Void, she had created a realm where nothing was ever truly lost.