The vault door, bearing the massive, coiling sigil of the Spiral of Return, stood ajar, releasing a rush of air that was cold and impossibly dense. It carried with it a profound otherness—a sense of ancient, inhuman stability that made the modern, sterile air of the bunker feel thin and temporary.
"The air is stable, but the temperature drop is extreme," Ethan reported, pulling a tactical flashlight from his vest and casting a sharp beam down the shaft. The light was immediately swallowed by the gloom. "The symbol—the Spiral—it's not painted. It's cut into the metal and it's… humming."
Lyra stepped forward, placing a hand on the vault's cold metal. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, as she listened to the low, steady vibration. "It is the sound of the foundation. Marcus Blackwood siphoned the earth's most essential rhythm, the silent pulse of the planet itself, to fuel his tone of control. This shaft leads to the Node—the point of extraction."
