The museum at night possessed an entirely different atmosphere.
During the day, it welcomed scholars, tourists and nobles eager to admire relics of Aerthos' long history.
Now...
It resembled a cathedral; soft lanterns illuminated polished marble floors, ancient banners depicting forgotten kingdoms hung from vaulted ceilings, glass displays contained everything from rusted swords to preserved monster skeletons.
Elias moved through the Hall of the Era of Kingdoms, his footsteps soft, his heart thudding against his ribs like a panicked bird.
Paintings lined the walls,each one seeming to watch him pass.
The silence was profound. Only the distant footsteps of guards echoed through the corridors as the last visitors for the evening had left the building.
"You're breathing too hard," Tamamo's voice echoed in the back of his mind, her tone laced with amusement.
"If you breathe any harder, you might actually shake the floorboards loose. Try to relax, Elias after all what cold go wrong."
"Everything could go wrong." Elias retorted, but he did calm his breathing. He was already inside so there was no use panicking. Instead, he turned his attention to the things around him as he passed.
"Humans really do love keeping old things."
"They're preserving history. Unlike you, we're not immortal and need to remember the past to build a future."
Tamamo considered that.
"Fair."
Firdaus was still chattering about something—Elias couldn't hear the words, only the rhythm of her voice, light and teasing. Todd responded in clipped, exasperated tones. The perfect distraction.
He remained several paces behind Firdaus and Todd keeping them in his peripheral vision when he turned his head to look around. He had to take into account the fact that they were flow users and the older woman said she was a researcher in the vault meaning she must have some artifacts on her person.
For now, neither woman noticed him. Neither did anyone else. Or so it seemed.
Firdaus moved with the easy confidence of someone who owned the space. Todd followed, her posture rigid with barely suppressed frustration. Elias trailed them at a distance, his footsteps silent on the polished marble floor.
The mother-daughter pair descended a spiral staircase near the back of the museum. The public never noticed the guards, but they were there—Elias could sense them, hidden in alcoves, their presence muffled by artifacts designed to suppress detection. He held his breath as he passed one, his hand instinctively moving toward his empty belt.
No weapons. No Flow. Just a cloak and a prayer.
The tunnel branched. Firdaus took the leftmost passage without hesitation. Another door. Another sigil. Another corridor.
The first checkpoint. A woman sat behind a desk, reading a romance novel. She did not look up.
"Evening," Firdaus said.
"Morning," the woman replied without glancing up.
They walked past. Elias followed, his heart pounding so loudly he was certain the woman would hear it. She didn't. The second checkpoint. A man polishing a display. He glanced at Firdaus, who scratched her left ear. The man nodded and returned to his work. The third. A young woman rearranging artifacts. She smiled. "Long walk?" she asked. "Always," Firdaus replied. A janitor pushing a cleaning cart glanced at them briefly before scratching twice against the handle with his thumb. Recognition. Firdaus responded by adjusting her glove slightly.
Another checkpoint passed.
Tamamo hummed thoughtfully. "The corruption here is... old. Ancient. I can feel it seeping through the walls. This place was not built to house artifacts, Elias. It was built to contain something else. Something that was already here."
"What do you mean?" Elias's brow furrowed.
"Keep moving. I'll explain when we're deeper."
Further below, the architecture changed. The corridor grew narrower. The walls wept moisture. The air grew heavy. The refined stonework of the museum gave way to older foundations—massive dark bricks worn smooth by time. Ancient tunnels stretched beneath Aethelberg like veins beneath skin. These were the Old Ruins.
Elias felt a chill run down his spine. The air here was different. Thicker. Heavier. It pressed against his skin like an unseen weight, and he could feel something at the edges of his perception—something vast and ancient and patient. "What is this place?" he whispered. Tamamo's voice was unusually subdued. "A graveyard. A prison. A wound that never healed. I cannot tell which."
Firdaus and Todd continued deeper, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stone. The corridor grew darker. The moisture on the walls seemed to pulse with a faint, rhythmic glow. And then the barrier. Elias felt it before he saw it—a shimmer in the air ahead, like heat rising from sunbaked stone. Firdaus and Todd passed through it without hesitation. Elias paused, his instincts screaming at him to turn back.
'If I step through this, there's no going back.'
Tamamo's voice was quiet. "The corruption beyond this barrier is dense. Ancient. It will feel... unpleasant. But it will not kill you. Hopefully."
"Comforting."
"I try." Elias took a deep breath and stepped through.
The sensation was not pleasant. It was like two giant hands each holding one arm and pulling in opposite directions—a stretching, tearing sensation that seemed to affect his very soul. For a fraction of a second, he felt as though he was being pulled apart at the seams, his consciousness scattering like leaves in a hurricane. And then it was over. He was standing in a vast, impossible space.
The Forbidden Vault did not resemble a building. It resembled the inside of a hive suspended outside reality. Walkways stretched in impossible directions. Some paths curved vertically along walls. Others hung upside down across distant ceilings. Entire staircases rotated slowly through open air. Gravity shifted depending on where one stood. Hexagonal containment chambers glowed throughout the vast structure like embedded stars. Elias's breath caught in his throat.
"This is... this is insane."
Tamamo's voice was filled with a mixture of mild surprise and disgust.
"The corruption here is overwhelming. I can feel it pressing against every surface. This place is a wound in the fabric of reality, and someone has been using it as a storage room? Hm, humans."
Elias tore his gaze away from the impossible architecture and focused on Firdaus and Todd. They were moving across a walkway that curved along the wall, their footsteps sure and practiced. He followed, his heart hammering.
He moved through the hive-like corridors, his eyes scanning the distant containment chambers. Researchers walked on walls and ceilings. Technicians operated equipment that glowed with unstable light. The Vault was alive with activity—and with corruption.
'The place is too large to search.'
"Theres no need, just follow my directions and we'll find it in no time." Tamamo said. Elias was however distracted by a nearby figure.
A Hollow was shuffling against a distant containment barrier several levels beneath him. Its body resembled a dried corpse wrapped around jagged crystal growths. Its hollow eye sockets turned toward him. And it stared. Elias froze.
"It can't see me...right?"
Elias looked around frantically. More shapes were stirring in the darkness—Wraiths, their luminous bodies writhing against their seals, their attention fixed on him with predatory hunger.
He had no choice. He broke away from Firdaus and Todd, ducking into a side corridor as the Hollows began to converge. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. He ran. The corridors twisted and turned, defying logic and gravity. He stumbled through passages that seemed to loop back on themselves, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The Hollows were slower than him, but there were more of them—and they knew where he was. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with a researcher. He dodged at the last moment, pressing himself against the wall as the man passed by, oblivious to the invisible intruder.
Elias didn't pay him any mind. He was too focused on finding a place to hide.
He found one. A section of the Vault that was quieter, less populated. He ducked into a narrow alcove, pressing himself against the cold stone as a group of Hollows shuffled past, their empty eyes scanning the darkness. And then he saw them. Inquisitors. Three of them, standing before a door. And in front of them, a familiar figure. Layl,one of the Inquisitors that came to his house after the Blackwood incident.Elias's blood ran cold.
What is she doing here?
He pressed himself deeper into the shadows, his breathing shallow.
"The interrogation of Bartholomew Voss a.k.a Blackwave is complete," Layl announced.
"The pirate has been processed and is ready for transfer. Take note that the Forbidden artifact FA-0036, the Witness Lamp. His mind has been altered as a result of it's use. He has become more docile as as a result but do not let your guard down. He is still the quartermaster of the Red Maw Pirates and a Saint."
"Understood, ma'am."
A brief silence followed. Within his hiding place, Elias raised his eyebrows.
'They were able to rewrite the mind of a person with a Forbidden Artifact?'
Tamamo's voice whispered through his mind, filled with genuine confusion.
"Hardly anything to be impressed by. In my day beings didn't need the use of some tools to mess around with peoples heads."
'Quiet,' Elias thought, his attention remaining fixed on the Inquisitors.
Layl continued.
"Prepare him for transportation He must be transferred to the Punishers by the end of the hour."
"I don't like those people." One of the inquisitors commented.
"Me neither but rules are rules." Layl replied with a shrug.
Just then Hollows that had been chasing Elias made an appearnce, drawing the attention of the Inquisitors, who were now trying to drive them back with commands and gestures. "Hey, return to your sectors!" one of the Inquisitors barked. "You are not permitted in this area!" The Hollows did not obey. Their empty eyes were fixed on something beyond the Inquisitors. Elias seized the opportunity. While the Inquisitors were distracted, he slipped past them and through the door, pressing himself against the wall inside.
The room was dim. A single chair stood in the center where a stream of light was falling from a certain lantern, its occupant bound with chains around his wrists and ankles. He was bare chested and his torso was covered in scars. Elias was weary at first but he relaxed a bit once he saw how haggard the man was. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the tattoo of a maw that snaked its way from his cheek down his neck.
'Hmmm, I didn't know they had pirates in this world.'
The man raised his head. His eyes met Elias's—not through the cloak, but somehow past it.
"You are not one of the Inquisition," the man said weakly.
Elias froze.
'He can see me? No calm down, this could be simple delirium.'
He tried to ignore the man, moving slowly around the room, but the prisoner tracked him with his gaze—weak, exhausted, but somehow still aware.
"What do you want?" the man asked. "Have you been sent to kill me?"
Elias realized this wasn't mere delirium and removed his hood and materialized.
"How did you know I was here?"
The man—Blackwave, his mind supplied—offered a weak smile. "I can sense you. Your Presence. It is... different from theirs."
Elias stared at him, confused. "Presence...I'm not here to kill you. I don't even know who you are."
Blackwave's smile faded. "This place—it seems secure, even with my powers it'd be difficult to get in. You must be very talented to have broken in just for my head."
"Your head? I don't—"
The door opened. Elias threw his hood back on and pressed himself against the wall as the Inquisitors entered. They moved past him, gathering around Blackwave, and began to discuss his transfer.
Elias slipped out of the room as quietly as he had entered. Tamamo's voice was a whisper in his mind.
"What was that about?"
Elias shook his head. "Hell if I don't know."
But something told him that Blackwave knew more than he was letting on. And that their paths would cross again.