The descent began in silence.
Kane led the way through the forgotten metro shafts, his torch cutting a single line through the dark. Silver followed close, her pistol drawn; Rex brought up the rear, scanning every shadow like it might breathe.
Azen moved in the middle, his skin faintly luminous even in the dark. The Vein pulsed beneath the city — a heartbeat buried under concrete and rust. Every step they took felt less like walking and more like falling through time.
"Where are we?" Silver asked finally.
Kane didn't turn. "Beneath the old grid. Before the city was Velora, this was the core of the first settlement. They built the Game over it, layer by layer, to hide what was left behind."
Rex snorted. "And what's that, ghosts?"
"No," Kane said. "Memory."
They reached a sealed gate — old steel, etched with glyphs that shimmered faintly when Azen approached. The hum inside him answered, and the gate unlocked itself with a low sigh, metal folding like cloth.
Beyond it lay a cavern that didn't belong to any era. The walls pulsed with veins of gold light, ancient machines humming in slow rhythm. Figures stood around a vast circular pit, cloaked in ash-gray robes.
Their faces were masked, their eyes hidden. But when they spoke, their voices came as one:
"The child of the Vein has returned."
Azen froze. "You knew me?"
Kane lowered his head slightly — respect or guilt, Azen couldn't tell. "They are the Keepers. They've guarded the Vein since before the first Game began."
One of the figures stepped forward. Her mask was cracked down the middle, light leaking through the fracture. "You were sealed once, long ago. To keep the Vein from merging with flesh. Your mother was one of us."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"My mother?" Azen whispered.
"She bound the Vein within you," the Keeper said. "To protect both worlds. But the Circle you opened broke that seal."
Azen staggered back, light flaring under his skin. "So this power— it's hers?"
"No," the Keeper said softly. "It's yours. She only gave it shape."
The cavern shook, dust raining down from above. Alarms echoed faintly from the surface — the war above had found them.
Kane turned sharply. "They've breached the lower tunnels."
Silver cursed under her breath. "Quiet Hand?"
"No," said another Keeper. "Something older. Something that followed him."
They all looked at Azen. His eyes burned faintly silver now, veins of light crawling up his neck.
"I can feel it," he said quietly. "It's here."
The lead Keeper reached out a trembling hand. "Then you must choose. The Vein can only serve balance or hunger. If it merges completely, there will be no Game, no city, no sky."
The ground split open. From the chasm rose a figure made of light and shadow — faceless, vast, its voice breaking the air like glass.
"You carry what we lost. Return it, and end the fracture."
Azen's pulse synced with the hum of the cavern. The others backed away, weapons useless against whatever this was. He stepped forward, breath shallow, light coursing through every vein.
"No," he said. "You don't get to take it back. I'm not your vessel. I'm the echo you left behind."
He raised his hand, and the light burst outward, colliding with the entity. The cavern exploded in sound and silence all at once — time bending, reality screaming.
When the dust settled, Azen was on his knees. The Keepers were gone. Only their robes remained, smoldering softly in the dim light.
Kane approached carefully. "What did you do?"
Azen looked up, his eyes no longer silver but white — glowing with calm fury. "I didn't destroy them," he said. "I became them."
The Vein pulsed once through the floor, like a heartbeat from the earth itself.
And for the first time, Velora trembled not from war — but from awakening.