Rhys stepped into the room like a ghost reborn. His boots echoed softly on the stone floor, his silver armor polished to a shine no grave could offer.
Haruto's heart slammed in his chest. The man before him hadn't aged a day. Same scar above the brow, same piercing stare. He remembered the last time he saw that face—bloodied, crushed beneath rubble on the fields of Wyrmspire.
"You died," Haruto said, his voice low. "I saw the report. I buried you in my memory."
Rhys smiled faintly. "And yet here I stand. You always were too quick to believe what you were told."
Kaela slid a knife from her boot, edging toward his flank. Rhys didn't flinch. His eyes never left Haruto.
"You were a weapon," he said, voice firm. "Not a hero. The Queen needed a symbol. A bright-eyed foreigner with a sword, wrapped in prophecy and illusion. You were perfect."
Haruto kept his blade raised. "I chose to fight."
"You chose nothing," Rhys countered. "She picked your path before you even knew this world's name."
With a flick of his wrist, Rhys tossed a scroll onto the table. It unfurled to reveal a map—detailed, ancient. Not of kingdoms or cities, but of what lay beneath: deep fault lines, sealed chambers, and arcane markings.
Dozens of crimson symbols marked the Vaults.
Kaela stepped closer. "This is real?"
"Too real," Rhys said. "The Vault beneath Blackhollow wasn't the only one. There are eleven more. Each tied to one of the old gods—forgotten, buried, or locked away."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "The Queen's collecting them?"
"She already has two," Rhys replied. "Three, if she breaks the Shattered Seal."
Haruto shook his head. "No… She told me those relics were dangerous. That's why we sealed them."
Rhys laughed bitterly. "Dangerous to her enemies. She's using you to unearth power she doesn't understand. Or worse—she does understand, and wants it anyway."
Lucien leaned over the scroll, tracing a line connecting the Vaults. "This pattern… it's astronomical. Every location aligns with the celestial gate of Tel'Aran."
Kaela stiffened. "That's myth. Folklore."
"Then why are the stars shifting again?" Rhys asked quietly. "The last time the sky moved, an entire continent sank beneath the sea."
Haruto stared at the map, the symbol of the Queen's crest burned into his mind. His world tilted.
"She told me I was saving people," he muttered.
Rhys' voice softened. "So did I, once."
Silence hung in the room.
Kaela broke it. "Why now? Why come to us?"
Rhys turned away, glancing toward the city's skyline through a narrow crack in the stone. "Because in three nights, the next Vault opens beneath the ruins of Namaris. And if she gets there first…"
He turned back, eyes cold and certain.
"…she'll awaken what sleeps beneath the throne. And she won't need any of us alive after that."
Haruto lowered his blade, chest tight.
"So what do we do?"
Rhys stepped forward, placing a small carved stone on the table—a compass that pulsed faintly with light.
"We run faster than her. We open the Vault first."