Chapter 3: Trial of the Vault
Celia moved like a shadow, leading Jason, Lynn, and Ren to the plaza's edge, her dagger twirling in her hand, violet eyes scanning the mist. "Rogues are scouting closer," she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the undercity's hum. She's hunted worse. Jason gripped the Farthalin, its crimson pulse quickening, the vision from the plaza—Kaldor burning, a colossus whispering—lingering like a scar. Stay sharp. His soldier's instincts flared, the weight of a scavenged blade, given by Lynn, grounding him. It'll do. Lynn's rune stone glowed faintly, her robe shimmering, green eyes alert. Ren's warhammer clinked, his steps heavy, his sister's dream fueling his fire.
The plaza's bustle faded as they entered a tunnel, its glyphs pulsing erratically, their blue light dim. Something's off. Celia's hand flicked, signaling caution. "Rogues set traps," she said, her dagger tracing a glyph's edge. She reads this place. Jason's scar throbbed, the Farthalin's whisper louder: Fight. A trap sprang—rogue glyphs flared red, stone spikes jutting from the walls. Celia twisted, her dagger slicing a glyph's core, sparks flying. Jason lunged, blade slashing another, his movements fluid, like defusing a bomb under fire. Muscle memory. Ren smashed a spike, roaring: "For my sister!" Lynn's rune flared green, collapsing the trap, her glyph a shield.
Celia nodded, her violet eyes appraising. "Not bad, soldier." She paused, her dagger still, then shared a fragment: "My brother defied the rune-lords, carved his own glyphs. They killed him for it. I carry his fire." She's driven. Jason met her gaze, the Farthalin steadying him. "I'm no liability," he said, voice firm. The system pinged: [System Insight: Passed Celia's test. Reward: 200 Resolve Points. Resolve Points: 1100%.] She's an ally. Jason's mind raced, the system's message sinking in. 1100% Resolve Points—feels like I'm running out of time. The tunnel's hum stabilized, but the mist thickened, shadows shifting beyond.
Celia led them deeper, the tunnel opening to a rune-sealed vault, its glyphs ancient, pulsing blue. A relic. Lynn knelt, her rune stone tracing the sigils. "This holds a manuscript—Kaldor's secrets," she said, her voice steady. She's unraveling history. She worked quickly, her rune stone glowing brighter as the vault's glyphs responded, their blue light intensifying. A stone panel slid open, revealing a tattered manuscript, its pages etched with angular runes. Lynn's eyes widened as she scanned the text. "It's a prophecy," she whispered. "The Farthalin… It's tied to the Void Colossus. A weapon to end the rune war—or unleash it." Jason's scar pulsed, the Farthalin's crimson glow flaring in response. That's why it's alive.
Ren stood guard, his warhammer ready, eyes fierce. Jason scanned the vault, the Farthalin burning, a new vision striking: a colossus stirring, its voice a hiss: You're mine.The colossus—it's awake, its voice a hiss in my mind. He shook it off, blade tight in his grip. Celia scouted the vault's edge, her eyes catching a flicker—rogue shadows moving. "They're here," she whispered, dagger raised.
The vault's glyphs pulsed, Lynn's rune stone flaring as she tucked the manuscript into her robe. She's close. Jason's senses screamed, the Farthalin's whisper a drumbeat. Ambush. Celia's violet eyes locked on the mist, her stance lethal. Ren's grip tightened, his sister's dream a fire in his chest. The shadows surged, rogue glyphs flaring red, blades glinting. It's a trap. A dozen rogues charged from the mist, their glyphs casting a bloody glow across the tunnel. "Protect the manuscript!" Lynn shouted, her rune stone conjuring a green barrier, deflecting a rogue's thrown spear.
Celia darted forward, her dagger a blur, slicing a rogue's glyph-etched arm, blood spraying as he fell. "Keep them back!" she yelled, her violet eyes fierce. Ren roared, his warhammer smashing a rogue into the tunnel wall, stone cracking under the impact. "For Mara!" he bellowed, his voice raw. Jason moved on instinct, the Farthalin blazing crimson, its whisper urging him: Fight. He parried a rogue's blade, the scavenged steel holding, then struck with the Farthalin, its sigils shattering the rogue's glyph in a burst of red light. The rogue collapsed, but more pressed in, their glyphs flaring with chaotic energy.
Lynn's barrier flickered under a barrage of glyph attacks, her runestone dimming. "They're targeting the vault!" she warned, her voice strained. They want the manuscript. Jason pivoted, blocking a rogue's strike, pain flaring as a glyph-burst grazed his shoulder. Not today. He slammed the Farthalin into the rogue's chest, the crimson light searing through armor, the man crumpling with a scream. The system pinged: [System Insight: Defended vault. Reward: 250 Resolve Points. Resolve Points: 1350%.]
The tunnel shook, glyphs flickering as the rogues pressed their assault, their numbers thinning but relentless. Celia's dagger flashed, taking down another rogue, while Ren's warhammer cleared a path, his fury unyielding. Lynn's runes held the vault's entrance, but her strength waned, sweat beading on her brow. We can't hold on forever. Jason fought on, the Farthalin's shadow coiling tighter in his mind, its whisper now a command: Survive. Kaldor's secrets weighed heavily in Lynn's hands, and the vault's blue glyphs pulsed like a warning—more danger was coming.