The platform was a blur of activity.
Medics rushed past, carrying stretchers. Engineers scrambled to repair the damaged submarines. Hunters stood in clusters, their faces pale, their eyes fixed on the water.
Ami sat on a supply crate, her arm wrapped in fresh bandages. The wound was deep—the demon's claws had torn through muscle and sinew before the medics had stopped the bleeding. They had done what they could.
"You're lucky," the lead medic had said, his voice grim. "A few inches deeper, and you would have lost the arm entirely."
"How long until it heals?" she asked.
"Weeks. Maybe months. The muscle damage is extensive. It will heal, but..." He paused. "It won't be perfect. You'll have strength, but not like before. Not full."
She had nodded. Said nothing.
Now she sat on the crate, staring at the water.
Corrin stood beside her, his forehead bandaged, his hands still trembling. Kael was pacing at the edge of the platform, his pistols drawn, staring at the dark water below.
"He's still down there," Ami said.
"We don't know that," Corrin replied.
"Yes, we do. He's alive."
"How do you know?"
She looked at him. Her eyes were steady. "Because he's Aurelion."
The rescue operation began at dawn.
Submarine Two and Submarine Three descended together, their lights cutting through the black. They had one objective: find Aurelion Kade. Alive or dead.
Ami insisted on going.
"You're injured," the lead medic said.
"I don't care."
"You could die."
"I don't care."
"Your arm—you can't fight like this. The damage is too severe. You need rest, not combat."
Ami stood. Her arm throbbed. She ignored it.
"I'm going."
"You won't be cleared for duty until—"
She met his eyes. "I'm going."
He opened his mouth to argue. Then he saw her face—the set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes. He closed his mouth.
"I'll have a sling prepared," he said quietly. "You'll need to keep it immobilized while you're in the water."
She nodded and walked toward the submarine.
The descent was faster this time. No demons attacked. The water was still, silent, waiting.
Ami sat in the front, her bandaged arm resting on her knee, secured in the sling. Her other hand rested on her blade.
"He went after Gatekeeper," Kael said.
"I know."
"He'll have found it by now."
"I know."
"Then where is he?"
She didn't answer.
The city appeared in the distance—spires and pyramids, silent and waiting.
Submarine Two settled near the pyramid's base. The airlock cycled. Ami stepped into the water.
The cold was immediate, biting through her suit. Her arm throbbed, but she ignored it. She swam toward the pyramid, her blade drawn, her eyes scanning the darkness.
Corrin and Kael followed.
The pyramid's entrance was still open. The tracks in the sediment were fresh—Aurelion's tracks.
"He came back here," Corrin said.
"Why?"
Ami pointed at the tracks. They led not into the pyramid, but around it—toward the city's edge.
"He found something," she said. "He's following it."
They followed the tracks through the empty streets.
The city was still, silent, waiting. The buildings loomed above them, their windows dark, their doors open. The symbols on the walls—the spiral—seemed to pulse in the dim light.
The tracks led to a building near the city's edge. It was smaller than the others, nondescript, unremarkable.
But the tracks went inside.
Ami entered first.
The interior was dark, but her helmet's light pushed back the shadows. The room was empty—no furniture, no decorations, no signs of life.
But there was a door.
A small door, set into the far wall, almost invisible.
Ami pushed it open.
The staircase descended into the depths.
Ami led the way, her blade drawn, her heart pounding. The stairs were narrow, steep, worn smooth by centuries of use. Her arm ached. She didn't stop.
The tracks continued down.
"Where is he going?" Corrin whispered.
"I don't know."
The stairs ended at a chamber.
It was vast—larger than the pyramid's interior, larger than anything they had seen. The walls were covered in murals, their colors still vivid, their images still clear.
And at the center of the chamber, standing before the largest mural, was Aurelion.
He was alive.
Gatekeeper was in his hand.
The shards on his back were pulsing in unison.
Ami ran toward him. "Aurelion!"
He turned.
His eyes were different. Not empty—ancient. Like he had seen something he couldn't unsee.
"You're alive," she said.
"I'm alive."
"You scared us."
"I know."
He looked at the mural. She followed his gaze.
It showed the gate—the same gate from the pyramid, from the temple, from his dreams. But this time, there were figures standing before it.
Figures in armor. Figures with swords.
Figures she recognized.
Zarveth.
The Demon King.
And others—unfamiliar, ancient, terrible.
All of them were holding the gate shut.
"What is this?" she whispered.
Aurelion's voice was quiet. "The Hall of Kings. Every king who ever stood before the gate. Every king who held it shut."
"Zarveth is here."
"He was a warden. Before he became a threat."
"And the Demon King?"
Aurelion pointed to the figure in the center of the mural. Tall, armored, a crown of obsidian horns on his brow.
"He's here too. He's been holding the gate for centuries."
Ami stared at the mural. "Why doesn't he just tell us?"
"Because we wouldn't believe him."
Corrin was already studying the mural, his notes forgotten, his eyes wide.
"This changes everything," he said. "The Demon King isn't trying to open the gate. He's trying to keep it closed. The war—the invasion—it was all a distraction."
"A distraction from what?" Kael asked.
Corrin pointed at the gate in the mural. "From this. From the thing behind the gate. He needed to keep us busy while he held the line."
Ami looked at Aurelion. "You knew?"
"I suspected." He touched the mural. "But I didn't know for sure. Not until now."
The expedition left the chamber an hour later.
The shards were secure. The truth was uncovered. The Demon King was not the enemy.
But the gate still waited.
Aurelion climbed into the submarine, Gatekeeper in his hand, the shards on his back humming softly.
Ami sat beside him.
"What happens now?" she asked.
"We go back," he said. "We tell them what we found."
"And then?"
He looked at the mural in his mind. At the figures standing before the gate. At the white-haired figure—the First King—standing alone.
"And then we find the Demon King. We ask him why he's been hiding the truth for so long."
The submarine rose toward the surface.
Behind them, the city sank back into darkness.
Waiting.