The Ninth Chamber did not announce itself with light or sound. It simply existed, waiting, the way an old wound waits beneath skin that has long since healed over. Aether stood before its threshold, and behind him, the voices of the Architect and the Traveler had not stopped since the moment he began walking toward it.
"Turn back," the Architect had said, his tone stripped of the calm that made him sound like the oldest and steadiest thing in any room. "Whatever waits inside was sealed for a reason. Not even the Four Keys have opened it in cycles beyond counting."
"There is nothing in there worth the risk," the Traveler added, her hand briefly closing around his wrist before he pulled free. "No throne. No weapon. No manual that will make you stronger."
