The moon hung high over Gulmund, casting pale silver light across the slanted rooftops and narrow alleyways. The city was quiet, asleep in the illusion of peace. But beneath the stone and shadow, secrets whispered in silence.
Frankie stood in the palace library, his fingers tracing the edges of an ancient architectural scroll stretched across a marble table. The document was fragile, its edges yellowed with time and use. By his side, Toji stood motionless, arms folded, eyes narrowed.
"This layout is old," Frankie murmured. "Centuries old. Maybe even before the Old Gods left."
Toji tilted his head. "Does it show anything useful?"
Frankie tapped a faint symbol on the map—a half-circle with an arch marked in faded red ink.
"There," he said. "This symbol appears in only one other place in the entire record."
He unfurled a second scroll, overlaying it on the first. The match was exact.
"To the northwest wing of the palace," he explained. "But the current palace design doesn't show anything there. It's supposed to be solid stone."
"Or it's been hidden," Toji said.
"Exactly. I think there's a sealed path there. And I think it leads somewhere important—something predating the current palace structure."
Elian, leaning on a shelf nearby, raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think it's not just a sealed wine cellar?"
Frankie shot him a look. "Because I've cross-referenced four different cartography layers, all from different centuries. That chamber wasn't just a room. It was a vault."
Toji straightened. "Then we go tonight."
Elian blinked. "Wait—tonight? As in now?"
"No one will expect us to act so soon," Toji said. "That gives us an advantage."
They moved like shadows, cloaked in dark robes and soft steps, weaving through the empty corridors of the palace under cover of night. A bribe to a sleepy servant had gained them entry, and now they crept past columns and statues older than the kingdom itself.
The northwest wing loomed ahead, an empty stretch of hallway ending in a bare stone wall.
Frankie approached first, pressing his palm to the wall. "Here," he whispered. "There should be a seam—"
He felt nothing.
Toji stepped forward. "Step back."
He extended his hand, fingers outstretched. The air shimmered faintly around him as he activated his Nano-energy, eyes glowing with faint lines of digital light.
Tiny particles in the air danced at his command. He traced the wall with invisible code, drawing instructions into the fabric of reality itself.
Lines began to glow across the stone. A sigil revealed itself—a lock, magical and mechanical, woven with threads of light and ancient command.
"Old magic," Frankie said in awe. "But it's... reactive."
"Not just magic," Toji said. "It's trying to reprogram anything that touches it."
Toji focused. He altered the code. The sigil flickered, resisted. He rewrote it in a different syntax—Nano-based logic layered over the ancient enchantments. The two systems warred for a moment, then the lock gave way with a low hiss of escaping air.
The wall split.
A hidden door creaked open, revealing a spiraling staircase descending into pitch black.
They exchanged a look.
"No turning back now," Elian said.
Toji stepped inside first.
The descent was silent but steep. Their torches flickered, casting long shadows on walls carved with forgotten symbols. As they reached the bottom, the air grew colder, heavier.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber.
It was not a wine cellar.
Massive columns lined the room, each carved with runes in a language none of them recognized. At the far end stood an altar made of obsidian stone, slick with something that gleamed red under the light.
"Blood," Toji said.
Frankie stepped forward, heart pounding. "This place… it's a ritual chamber."
Elian looked ill. "There are chains on the walls. Shackles. This wasn't a place of prayer."
They fanned out, investigating the room. In one corner, Frankie found a pile of tattered robes—the same deep purple worn by palace priests.
"Toji," he called. "There's something here."
Toji joined him. Frankie held up a small, rusted pendant. It bore the spiral rune. The same one from the dungeon.
"It's the same mark," Frankie said. "The exact same."
Toji's expression darkened. "Then this isn't just a hidden room. This is where it began."
They stood in silence.
Beneath the palace of Gulmund, in a place forgotten by history and memory, they had uncovered a truth the city was never meant to know.
And it was only the beginning.