Kellan's chamber was larger than it looked from the entrance. The metal table with Sol's marker was only the front room. Beyond it, through an archway carved directly into the cavern stone, a second chamber stretched into dim amber light. Shelves lined the walls. Not metal shelves—stone, grown from the same black rock as Sector 9, as if the room had been shaped rather than built.
Blaine followed Kellan through the archway. The warmth behind his ribs pulsed once. Curious. The energy in this room was older than the market above. Older than the city. The glowstones here weren't fragments—they were whole, embedded in the walls in patterns that matched the spirals from the gate chamber.
He's been digging up things he shouldn't have access to. Either he's connected to the Architects, or he's been scavenging their ruins for years.
Kellan stopped at a central table. Unlike the front room, this one was covered in objects—fragments of black stone, vials of red light, scrolls made from something that wasn't paper. He gestured at the collection with the ease of someone who had spent decades explaining it.
"I started researching the city's layers thirty years ago. Most hunters think the city is the surface, Sector 9 is the underground, and the foreign world is beyond the gates. They're wrong. The city is built on top of something much older. The Architects didn't just create the gates. They created the foundation everything else was built on."
"The glowstones."
"The glowstones are residue. Waste energy from their experiments. The real prize is deeper." Kellan touched one of the scrolls. It crumbled slightly under his fingers. "The Architects were not gods. They were scientists. They came from somewhere else—another world, another dimension, no one knows—and they found the bloodlines here. Or created them. The records are unclear. What is clear is that they studied the bond between host and bloodline obsessively. They wanted to perfect it. To create a being that could evolve infinitely without instability."
They failed. The bloodlines shattered. The partnership was broken. "What happened?"
"They pushed too far. The Forbidden Zone is not a natural phenomenon. It's the scar left by their final experiment. They tried to merge a bloodline with something that wasn't meant to be merged. The result was catastrophic. The Zone consumed them. Most of them. A few escaped. Their descendants are scattered across the layers. Some of them are still here."
"Here in the city?"
"In the city. In the territories. In places you haven't seen yet." Kellan's amber eyes fixed on Blaine. "The collector you've heard about—the one people whisper about—isn't me. I'm a researcher. The real collector is one of them. A descendant. Still alive. Still studying. He lives in the deepest layer beneath the city. The Artery. It's a passage that leads to the Architects' original laboratory. No one has entered it and returned. Not in centuries."
The Artery. The Architects' laboratory. That's where the answers are. "And you want me to go there."
"I want you to consider it. You're the first person to cross the Forbidden Zone and come back whole. You claimed Origin Memory. That fragment is a key. I don't know what it unlocks, but I suspect the Architects' laboratory will recognize it. And if it does—" Kellan spread his hands. "Think of what you could learn. About your bloodline. About the Architects. About why the partnership was broken and how it might be restored."
Blaine studied him. The warmth in his chest was steady, watchful. Not warning. Weighing.
He's telling the truth about the laboratory. He's also hoping I'll succeed where others failed so he can study the results. He's not a threat. He's an opportunist.
"You wanted to know about the marker."
Kellan nodded. He gestured at the sixth stone on the table. "I found it years ago in the foreign world, near the first gate. I've never been able to identify the symbol. It's not Architect script. It's not from any known layer. But I've seen it in other places. On other fragments. Always the same. Two parallel lines crossed by a third."
"It's a trail." Blaine reached into his pocket and withdrew one of the four stones Sol had given him. He placed it on the table next to the sixth. "The man who left these crossed the Forbidden Zone before I did. He claimed a fragment, but he didn't refuse the trade. He took the power. He merged with the fragment. It froze him. He's been alive for decades, maybe centuries, unable to feel anything. He left these markers as breadcrumbs. Hoping someone would follow."
Kellan stared at the two stones. His expression didn't change, but something behind his amber eyes flickered. Excitement. Restrained, but real. "He's still alive?"
"He's still alive. He chose a different path than I did. He's trying to come back from it."
"And the symbol?"
"His mark. A signature. He left it so the trail would be recognizable."
Kellan was silent for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly. "Sixty-three years I've been studying these fragments. Sixty-three years of theories. And you walk in with the answer." He laughed—a short, dry sound. "I should be frustrated. Instead, I'm grateful. Thank you."
Blaine nodded. "The deal was half your research. You've given me the Artery. The Architects' laboratory. The descendant who's still studying. That's enough for now."
Kellan reached under the table and withdrew a small, flat stone. Engraved with a map. He slid it across the table. "The Artery's entrance is beneath the eastern district. Deeper than the lower markets. Deeper than anything. Follow the path on this stone. It'll lead you to the threshold. After that—" He shrugged. "No one knows. The map ends at the entrance."
Blaine took the stone. It was warm, the same warmth as the glowstones, the same pulse as the Zone. The bloodline stirred behind his ribs. Recognition. Anticipation. Not fear.
"I'll go. Soon. Not today."
"When you do, I have one request. Not a condition. A request." Kellan's amber eyes were serious. "Whatever you find down there—whatever you learn—come back and tell me. Not for my collection. For the record. Someone should know what happened to the Architects. Someone should remember."
Blaine pocketed the map and the stones. "I will."
He turned and walked toward the archway. Voss was waiting in the front chamber, leaning against the wall with that same sharp smile. He didn't speak. He simply opened the door and stepped aside.
Blaine walked out of the compound and back into the lower markets. The glowstones pulsed in the walls. The merchants hawked their fragments and vials. The market was the same. He wasn't.
The Architects created the bloodlines. They broke them. Their laboratory is still down there. And something—someone—is still inside it.
The warmth pulsed. Ready.
He walked toward the eastern district.