The path beneath the Cathedral sloped downward.
Not abruptly.
Not hidden.
The Kingdom offered descent without ceremony.
Alex followed.
The stone changed as he moved deeper. The milk-smooth surface dulled and cracked, absorbing light instead of reflecting it. The air cooled. Sound flattened, footsteps losing their echo after only a few steps.
The passage opened into a circular chamber set several feet below the corridor's end.
The floor was wide and level.
The ceiling rose needlessly long.
The walls were crowded with mechanisms that did not match the Cathedral above. Brass frameworks. Counterweights. Lens housings suspended in articulated arms. Everything was inert, frozen mid-adjustment.
Narrow catwalks traced the upper circumference of the chamber, stretched too high and too far apart to be reached from the floor. They did not lead anywhere useful.
No stairs.
No ladders.
At the center stood a telescope.
It was not angled upward.
The barrel ran nearly horizontal, aligned toward the far wall, its primary lens set into a circular aperture carved directly into the stone. The housing around it was thicker than necessary, reinforced for stress rather than weight.
Alex descended down.
Two control systems were built into the structure.
The first was obvious: a circular disc inset into the plinth, its surface etched with evenly spaced runes around its circumference. It responded immediately to star magic, rotating smoothly as he tested it. The runes shifted. The alignment changed.
The second system partially collapsed along the telescope's length. A lattice of gears and pulleys, displaced and misaligned, pinned beneath fallen stone from a section of the ceiling that had given way long ago. One of the support arms was bent out of position, holding the barrel at a shallow but incorrect angle.
Yet at the same time he felt an odd connection to it.
Alex decided it would be better to search the area for clues rather then brute force his way with the puzzle
Circling the perimeter of the chamber, dried splotches littered the ground, a rusted red with clear origin
Alex crouched, curious—
then it hit him.
The air shifted as he leaned closer.
Saliva rushed up his throat. He clenched his jaw shut, swallowing hard, disgust flashing at the reflex.
Thoughts about sweetness rose and lingered in his mind.
Thoughts about resignation followed, forced and pressured, rotting his thoughts.
Thoughts about power pressed in, elated, offering catharsis.
Thoughts about sleep settled behind them, heavy and drowning.
Thoughts about escape surfaced last, thin but persistent.
Alex was compelled to leave.
He was not forced to interact with the telescope.
He could feel it—whatever happened next would be a turning point.
Then thoughts of his own broke through. Memories of suffering. Of pain. Of cowardice.
This time Alex stood with certainty for the first time in his life.
He would see through whatever happened here.
No matter the cost.
— — —