[Silthara Palace — The Old Archive Wing — Later That Day]
The deeper corridors of Silthara were not meant for footsteps; they were meant for memory.
Ancient stone stretched endlessly ahead, carved with serpents older than the empire itself—coiled along pillars, etched into walls, watching without eyes... yet seeing everything. The air was colder here, untouched by the warmth of the upper palace.
Even sound… moved differently, muted and swallowed. It's as if voices were not welcomed in this place.
It preserved them.
Levin walked at the front, unhurried and unstopped. Behind him, Lady Arinaya, Iru, and Raevahn followed in silence. No one spoke. No one asked again.
Because something in Levin's presence had shifted, not anger, not urgency. Something far more dangerous.
Intent.
They reached the door.
