The elevator hummed as it descended past standard training levels, deeper than any public registry hall Lucen had visited before.
It wasn't just the depth that made him tense, it was the silence between floors. No floor chimes. No digital displays. Just numbers etched into the metal above the panel, counting down past zero into negative integers.
The walls didn't reflect his face.
No polished chrome, no city-glass finishes.
Just flat gray plating. Spell-hardened. Pressure-rated.
He glanced sideways at Varik, who stood motionless, hands folded behind his back like a soldier in a briefing.
"This one's different," Lucen muttered.
Varik didn't look at him. "The last facility was made for high-level simulations."
"And this one?"
"For people who don't want a record."
The elevator stopped with a low thunk.
The door opened into a narrow hallway. No attendants. No automated greeters.
