Even in silence, the Forge Seed pulsed like a heartbeat.
Seraphel hovered near it, tendrils of radiant energy flowing from her back like wings made of starlight. Veyrion remained still, kneeling beside the remains of the shattered Sentinel, his chassis scorched and smoking.
Julius stepped forward, cautiously. "What happens now?"
Seraphel turned to him, her expression unreadable. "The Forge Seed has accepted the link—but only partially. It needs more than a pilot. It needs… resonance. A unity between Echelon and something older."
"Older than you?" Brinley asked, incredulous.
"Older than me," Seraphel confirmed. "There were layers to the original Echelon program. I was the guardian. Veyrion, the failsafe. But there was a third—a precursor known only as the Architect."
Vara's eyes narrowed. "And let me guess. The Architect didn't go quietly."
"No." Seraphel's voice lowered. "It vanished after the First Collapse, taking a fragment of the Source with it."
Selene stepped up to the Forge Seed. "Then that's our next objective. We find the Architect. We complete the resonance. And we shut the Hive out of existence."
Julius looked at Seraphel. "Any idea where to start?"
She nodded slowly, her sensors projecting a map across the Vault's inner wall. It displayed a dead zone—a pitch-black stretch of ocean beneath the Midworld Ridge.
"The Abyssal Null," Vara whispered. "That's a myth."
"No longer," Seraphel said. "It's where the Architect was last recorded. And it's waking up."
Brinley scowled. "Let me guess. That's not gonna be a smooth ride."
As if in answer, the Vault's sensors flared. A low tremor rumbled beneath them.
Veyrion stirred. "The Hive knows the Forge Seed has been touched. They will respond—not with a scout, but with a fleet."
Julius clenched his fists. "Then we move now. Before they surround us."
Selene keyed a command into her pad. "I've already plotted a sub-route. A trench tunnel leading to the Null. But it's unstable—collapsing in on itself. We'll need the Leviathan-class hauler docked above this complex to make the run."
"Then let's get moving," Julius said. "We've got a Seed. A path. And a war coming."
As the team gathered, Seraphel lingered near the Seed, one hand brushing its crystalline surface. A soft hum passed between them—ancient, familiar.
In the shadows of the deep, far below, a mind stirred. Not the Hive. Not fully.
The Architect had felt the resonance.
And it, too, was beginning to remember.