Vault Corridor — Istanbul, 6:02 A.M.
A thin veil of smoke still lingered in the air, like ancient spirits refusing to leave. The scent of blood and metal hung thick, damp with history newly unearthed — and once again betrayed. Dust drifted from the stone walls of the Vault, falling like mourning snow onto the cracked floor.
Reyna sat frozen in place, chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling in silence. Her breath came in sharp, shallow waves. Not from exhaustion… but from a loss too great to be framed by logic. Her chest felt hollow, as if a vital part of her had been ripped away without warning.
It had been more than ten minutes.
And Emir… still had not returned.
No sound. No footsteps. Only silence answering her. The Vault no longer thrummed with ancient life. The once glowing walls had gone dim, stone-cold and breathless. The ritual was over. But the sacrifice had gone unwitnessed — swallowed whole by time.
Reyna trembled as she crawled slowly toward where Emir had last stood before the Vault began to collapse. Her hand brushed warm stone, as if someone had just touched it. And there — all that remained was his black cloak, torn and soaked with drying blood.
No body.No sign.No chance to say goodbye.
She gathered the cloth into her arms, pressing it against her face. His scent still clung to it — skin, sweat, courage. Tears fell without a sound. Not out of weakness. But because she had shattered. Broken in a way that reached the marrow of her bones.
"Emir…" her voice cracked, splintered like glass striking stone. Raw. Wounded. "Don't leave me alone in here…"
Her knees gave in, and she slumped forward, forehead resting on the cold earth. The space around her echoed like an abandoned sanctuary — emptied of prayer and purpose. The Vault had gone silent again. The three rings of light that had once pulsed with power now flickered out, like dying stars in a lost galaxy.
Only one ring remained faintly lit — burning a deep, ominous red.Two others were still sealed.Untouched. Unforgiving.
Like promises never kept.Like wounds that hadn't yet been opened.
Istanbul — Backstreets of Bosphorus, 9:12 A.M.
The unmarked black car rolled slowly through the narrow backstreets of Beykoz, far from the tourist zones and glittering hotels. Old trees lined both sides of the lane like silent witnesses, watching the car pass without a word. The road was damp with morning dew, and the Istanbul sky was now clear — bright blue, as if nothing had ever happened.
Inez gripped the steering wheel firmly, but her eyes drifted often to the rearview mirror. Reyna's face was still blank — blank in a way that terrified her. Like someone who had stared too long into something unseeable… and wasn't sure who she'd become on the other side.
She hadn't spoken a word since they exited the Vault through the hidden tunnel. Not one. But the silence was louder than any scream. Her clothes were still bloodied. A small gash at her temple remained open, but she didn't touch it. She didn't care.
She only clutched two things — one in her right hand, and one against her chest.
Emir's pendant.
And the silver-bound book retrieved from the Vault — now wrapped in a black cloth that Inez had given her, as if it were too sacred for bare hands to touch. The El'Raez sigil on its surface still pulsed faintly — as though it were breathing.
"We're almost there…" Inez finally spoke in a whisper.
No reaction.
Reyna didn't respond. She turned her face to the window, gazing out at the golden domes, towering minarets, and the Istanbul skyline — unaware of what had been sacrificed for this morning to rise.
She didn't cry.
But inside her, a storm was roaring — silent, but strong enough to burn everything that still lived inside her soul.
Vila Aras — Beykoz, Istanbul. 11:45 A.M.
The heavy oak door of Vila Aras creaked open as Reyna stepped inside. Dust danced in the shafts of late-morning light pouring through the iron-framed windows. The silence that greeted her wasn't dead — it was waiting. Like a place that had wept once… and was holding its breath again.
She paused at the entrance, eyes sweeping across the main hall. High Ottoman-style ceilings. Golden stone walls. The scent of old wood and dried lavender still clung to the air. Everything felt exactly as it was — and yet, not at all.
Her fingers ran across the stone wall — coarse, cold, familiar. Her mother used to paint here. Emir used to play hide-and-seek in these corridors. Reyna herself had once hidden secret notes in the cracks of these rooms.
Now… it all felt foreign. But in that foreignness, she knew: she was home. Not in safety. In history.
"This place… it hasn't changed," Reyna whispered, her voice barely holding back a wave of emotion.
Inez stood behind her, silent for a moment. "There's a lot I left in this house," she said softly, "but most of all, memories of you."
She handed Reyna a clean towel and a ceramic cup of warm water. Reyna accepted them without a word, then sat down on the old crimson velvet sofa, still intact despite time.
On her lap — the silver-bound Vault book, still tightly closed.
Her hand trembled as she touched its cover. The El'Raez sigil glowed faintly, like something alive — something exhaling softly in the dark. Waiting to be opened.
"I don't know why this book chose me," Reyna murmured. "I'm no one."
"You are El'Raez blood," Inez replied, firm yet kind. "And that's more than enough for every secret you're about to bear."
Reyna closed her eyes, then slowly opened the first page.
And there… her father's face emerged. Raezmir. More vivid than before. His eyes were sharp but gentle. His lips frozen in a near-sentence. It wasn't just a portrait — it felt like his spirit had been carved into the page.
Below it, a single line of delicate script shimmered faintly:
"Legacy is not blood… it is choice."
Reyna read the line over and over again, each time more quietly.
The next page revealed three doors — each etched with ancient symbols.One bore the mark of water and moonlight — Istanbul.Another, the winged lion — Lyon.And the third… obscured by fog. Only one phrase was carved beneath it:
"Origin Unseen."
"What does it mean…?" Reyna whispered, almost asking the book itself.
Inez sat beside her, steady and close. "I don't think the Vault wants to give you all the answers. Only choices. And you'll have to decide which door comes next."
Reyna slowly closed the book. Her fingers gripped Emir's pendant resting on her chest. Her gaze drifted toward the far wall. It wasn't anger that lived in her now… it was something older. Something deeper. A resolve born from pain.
Dusk — Balcony of Vila Aras
The Istanbul sky was flushed with crimson. The Bosphorus gleamed gold under the setting sun, like silk lit on fire. Reyna stood at the edge of the balcony, fingers resting on the iron railing. The evening air was cold and clean, washing through her lungs like something almost holy — as if, for the first time, she remembered how to breathe like a human… not a soldier.
Emir's pendant hung against her chest, swinging softly with her heartbeat. She clutched it tightly, lips trembling.
"I'm sorry, Emir…" her voice broke. "I should've been there. I should've protected you… not the other way around."
Inez stepped quietly behind her, laying a thin shawl across Reyna's shoulders. But she said nothing. She didn't need to. She was a witness — to grief, to fire, to the silence between both.
Reyna turned slightly, eyes glassy but burning.
"I won't waste this. I'll keep going. I'll open the remaining doors… no matter what it costs."
Inez placed a hand on her shoulder. "You'll need allies. You'll need Lucien."
The name struck like quiet thunder inside her ribs. She looked down, hands tightening on the shawl. For a long moment, she didn't speak. And then — soft, steady, almost to herself:
"He'll come when the time is right," Reyna said. "But I can't wait for him to save me. Not this time. I have to become what the Vault sees in me — not what the world forced me to be."
Inez smiled faintly. Sad. Proud.
"If Raezmir could see you now," she whispered, "he'd know his sacrifice wasn't in vain."
Reyna looked up at the blood-red sky. Her soul still ached. But for the first time… the ache was beginning to burn.
Madrid — Torre de Madrid, 1:17 A.M.
Rain tapped gently against the high glass windows of the Torre de Madrid. Inside, the only light came from a small desk lamp. Lucien stood in silence, staring out at the clouded night sky.
His hand gripped an old, dust-covered file. The red wax seal of House El'Raez still gleamed faintly. He had kept it for years — since the day Raezmir died — but only tonight… did the words inside feel like a command, not a farewell.
He opened it slowly. The letter. Raezmir's handwriting — graceful, unshaken, written in fading black ink.
"If she opens the Vault before its time… she'll need you.Not to save her.But to remind her who she is."
Lucien sat down on the desk's edge, tapping the file with tense fingers. His thoughts tangled. Reyna wasn't just an heir. She was the key. The fulcrum.
"I left her alone for too long," he murmured. "And now… she might be too far to reach."
But the feeling inside his chest didn't die. The feeling that only sparked when her name passed his lips. A love heavy with guilt… and something darker. Because if the Vault truly lived, then Reyna had entered a war far older and crueler than either of them imagined.
Lucien stood, inhaling sharply.
"I'm going to Istanbul."
But this time — he wasn't going as her lover.He was going as the last guardian Raezmir trusted to stop the world from collapsing… if Reyna failed to choose the right door.
Lyon — Blood Council Command, 3:33 A.M.
The glass chamber was vast and dark. At its center, a holographic display flickered — showing footage from the Vault. Reyna's face hovered mid-air, her eyes lit with the same fire Maeryss knew all too well.
The fire of Raezmir. But wilder.
Maeryss leaned back in her obsidian throne, fingers trailing along the holographic surface, watching Reyna touch the first symbol.
"She lives," she whispered. "And she has chosen."
Beside her, a masked Elder bowed low. "Orders, Councilor?"
Maeryss didn't answer immediately. Her eyes were locked on the screen — on the El'Raez symbol pulsing red in the heart of the Vault. A flicker passed through her… not fear.Anticipation.
"She'll open the second door," Maeryss said at last. "Let her."
"And the third?"
Maeryss turned slowly. Her gaze was razor-sharp, honed by blood and ancient betrayal.
"The third will bring her to us," she said. "And when she does… we'll be waiting. With the weapon she unknowingly created herself."
The red glow cast shadows across her face. Behind her, a stone sculpture — Raezmir's likeness — cracked straight down the center.
As if reminding them that history… never truly dies.
Vila Aras — Istanbul
Night descended over Vila Aras in stillness. A breeze from the Bosphorus slipped through the open window, tugging gently at the sheer curtains like breath on skin.
In the master bedroom, Reyna finally slept. Not peacefully — but like someone whose body had collapsed from necessity.
On the small wooden table beside her, the silver-bound Vault book slowly flipped open — not by hand… but by something softer. Wind. Or will.
The page appeared blank at first.But under the kiss of moonlight, faint words emerged — like a whisper woven into parchment:
"Blood will be paid with blood.And love… will be the final eye to close."
The light touched her sleeping face. And beneath her lashes — a single twitch.
As if her soul… was already preparing for a war only she could fight.