Location: Subterranean Passageway – Tavoran Mountain Range, Tavara
The staircase seemed endless, carved into obsidian rock and laced with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. Damien kept his senses sharp. Every step felt like an echo through time, like he was being pulled not just deeper into the mountain—but deeper into the Architect's mind.
"Any readings, Nora?" he asked.
"Nothing conventional," she replied, sweeping her scanner across the walls. "But these runes... they're old. Pre-Tavaran. Maybe even predating the Order's first appearance."
Cyrus scoffed. "Of course he's holed up in a tomb of dead civilizations. Creeps like that love mystery and drama."
Damien ignored the comment. He was already doing the math. The Architect wasn't just testing them—he was guiding them. Somewhere down here was something he wanted them to see.
At the bottom of the stairs, a massive stone door greeted them, adorned with sigils that seemed to shift when looked at directly.
"Allow me," Damien said.
He reached into his tactical pouch and retrieved a metal cylinder—a Blackwood sigil breaker, tuned for ancient tech. With a precise movement, he pressed it to the door's surface. The sigils resisted, then realigned. The ground shook, and the door groaned open, revealing a room unlike any they'd seen before.
Inside was a vast chamber lit with hovering crystals. Along the walls were murals—intricate, painted depictions of war, betrayal, kings, and shadowy figures who manipulated events from the background.
One image caught Damien's eye: a man in black robes holding two spheres—one glowing gold, the other dark red. The inscription beneath read in ancient Tavaran: "He who holds balance shall dictate fate."
Nora moved beside him. "This looks like... prophecy."
Cyrus grunted. "Or a blueprint."
At the far end of the chamber stood a lone console. Damien approached, slowly. The moment he laid a hand on it, a projection flickered to life. The Architect appeared—still masked, still unreadable.
"I was waiting for you," the voice said. "You're exactly where I wanted you to be."
"What do you want from me?" Damien asked.
"To understand," the Architect replied. "You think power lies in weapons, alliances, or even legacy. But true power lies in knowledge. History is not a book—it's a map. And you, Damien Blackwood, are about to redraw its boundaries."
Before Damien could respond, the floor beneath the console shifted—and a hidden passageway opened, leading even deeper underground.
The projection glitched, then stabilized again. "Come, Damien. The next test awaits."
Damien turned to Nora and Cyrus.
"This isn't just about revenge or reclaiming my name anymore," he said quietly. "This is about something much bigger."
Nora nodded. "We're with you."
Cyrus gave a crooked grin. "About damn time this got interesting."
Together, they stepped into the shadows once more—toward truths buried beneath centuries of blood and betrayal.