The dome wasn't just humming now.
It was… breathing.
Each pulse matched Riven's heartbeat, syncing deeper with every step he took closer.
The Echo Cube hovered behind him—quiet. Like it knew this wasn't its domain.
ARK whispered:
BEGINNING LINGUAL MATCH... TRANSLATING DOME RUNES.ROOT LANGUAGE: UNKNOWN.OVERLAP DETECTED: ECHO LATTICE. FRACTIONAL MATCH.
Lines of translated code appeared in Riven's lens, stitched together from fragments.
"This world is not built. It is grown. Those who force shape upon it must first speak to its roots."
"They're not just Builders," Riven muttered. "They're… gardeners of reality."
He placed his hand on the dome.
The surface dissolved beneath his touch—liquid metal folding in like petals. It opened, revealing a staircase spiraling down into black.
No light.
No air.
Just an invitation.
"Guess we're going in."
Inside, lights flickered to life. Ancient tech, reacting to presence.
He descended.
Every step brought more runes—some glowing, others dead. A mixture of code and organic material, like vines made of data.
At the center: a hollow core.Suspended within it—an old chair.Not mechanical.
Thronelike.
And floating above it—an ancient builder's mask. Cracked. Black. Covered in shifting runes.
ARK spoke again:
THIS IS A BUILDER-PRIME CORE.LEGEND ONLY.NO CONFIRMED EXISTENCE UNTIL NOW.
"A Builder Prime?" Riven whispered.
"This place isn't just history… it's a blueprint."
Suddenly, a voice echoed—not from speakers. From inside his mind.
"If you would rewrite the world… first learn why it was made broken."