The chamber felt impossibly vast, its walls stretching into a darkness so deep it devoured sound. Elena's breath trembled in her chest as she stepped toward the crystalline heart suspended above the pedestal. Every beat of it resonated through her bones—soft, hypnotic, unmistakably alive. It reminded her of something ancient and familiar, like a lullaby she had once heard as a child but had long forgotten.
Behind her, Kieran's footsteps echoed fast, sharp, unsteady.
"Elena, stop." His voice cracked with a mixture of fear and fury. "This thing—it's not a gift. It's a trap."
But she barely heard him. The soft thrum of the relic grew louder, pulsing in perfect synchrony with her own heartbeat. It wasn't just calling her. It was answering her, as if her presence was completing a pattern that had been fractured for centuries.
"Kieran…" Her voice trembled. "It knows me."
"I don't care if it sings your name like a hymn," he snapped. "You're not touching it."
