They stood in the stillness before it—the gate that wasn't a gate.
It breathed.
Bone, tooth, and wet veined flesh made a perfect archway, each fang as long as Perseus's forearm, curved inward like a maw waiting to feed. The surrounding stone had been long since overtaken—slick with memory-sap and tangled in spore-root tendrils that pulsed faintly in tune with the heartbeat of the thing below. It didn't speak. It didn't move.
But it watched.
Boo stepped forward, her sabers crossed behind her back. Their jewel-encrusted blades hummed faintly, ghostlight curling from the edges in whispered arcs. Her flintlock pistol—polished obsidian and bone with golden skulls carved into the cylinder—rested at her hip. Her bodysuit was nearly silent as she moved, the unknown leather gripping her body like it had been poured on, lifting and shaping her like an unspoken promise. Every movement was danger wrapped in beauty.
Nyxia frowned. "It's alive."
"Worse," Boo murmured. "It remembers."
Perseus took a step closer, then recoiled slightly. "It's reading us."
"It wants a toll," Boo said.
"A soul?" Cipher asked from the rear, adjusting his visor.
"No. A name."
The Vault pulsed at her words. Its inner lining of flesh trembled. Somewhere behind its teeth, a wet grinding began.
Boo didn't wait.
She stepped forward until her toes kissed the edge of the maw.
"I give it freely," she said.
Nyxia reached for her arm. "Wait. What do you—"
"My name," Boo said, not turning. "Not Boo. That's not who I was. That's who I chose to be after the fall."
A beat.
Perseus's expression shifted.
"You don't have to—"
"I do," Boo whispered. "Because the girl who bore my true name died when Ves'Sariel betrayed us and took my brother. Rhelos was the only one who ever used it. And he's not here anymore."
The Vault opened.
Not fast. Not slow.
A deep, hollow sound like breathing through bone. The teeth pulled apart with a wet slickness. The air shifted.
A voice, soft as silk and rot, whispered: "It is forgotten."
Boo stumbled. Just once. Then straightened. "Let's go."
The party moved into the dark beyond.
—
The Vault was not a place.
It was a wound.
Stone bled. Glyphs burned like brandings on air. The walls whispered. Sometimes names. Sometimes prayers. Sometimes the last thing a mother ever said to a child.
Loque pressed close to Nyxia's side, his tail looped protectively around her legs even as he prowled forward. The further they went, the more restless he grew. His body shimmered constantly now, spectral and unstable.
Perseus murmured, "The Void is thick here."
Nyxia touched her armor, now cool to the touch, the runes at the seams softly glowing. The voices here didn't echo in words. They crawled.
Then it changed.
—
The Vault pulsed.
The seed Ves'Sariel had planted weeks ago had bloomed.
Reality buckled.
The corridor ahead split—each member of the group suddenly stumbling forward into different halls that hadn't existed a breath before. Boo vanished in a ripple of dark velvet. Cipher's scream cut off mid-word. Mirell laughed—a laugh of madness—before disappearing. Talon never made a sound.
Nyxia turned.
Perseus was gone.
So was Loque.
The stone beneath her feet shifted.
She was alone.
—
In the chamber, Ves waited.
The air was a swirl of bloodlight and silence. Her robe shimmered like it was underwater, veins of violet twisting through the black silk. Her eyes gleamed.
"You came," Ves said softly.
Nyxia's bow came up. "Of course I did."
"I missed you," Ves said.
Nyxia fired.
The arrow struck air.
Ves was already moving—gliding—not teleporting. Bending space.
"I see the armor fits," Ves murmured. "He gave you my gift."
"It's not yours," Nyxia growled.
"Oh, but it is." Ves's smile cracked. "I made it for you. Every thread soaked in memory. Every rune carved from a dream you left behind. I kept them, Nyxia. I remembered you. I built this place for you."
"Then you built a tomb."
Ves struck first.
A lash of voidlight tore toward Nyxia—who rolled beneath it, loosing another arrow that split the air and scraped across Ves's shoulder.
But the priestess laughed.
"Why do you still fight me? I could give you everything. Power. Love. Wholeness."
"You don't get to use that word anymore."
Ves's face twitched.
"You're hollow inside," Nyxia spat. "And you want to make me the same."
Ves's hands lifted. "You say that—but you hesitate. You still feel me, don't you? When you sleep. When you bleed. That ache? That's not just guilt. It's connection."
Nyxia's hand trembled on the string.
And that's when Ves moved again.
Not to kill.
To touch.
She stepped close—impossibly fast—and cupped Nyxia's cheek.
"I remember the way you looked the first time you saw me under moonlight," Ves whispered. "I remember your voice when you said you'd never leave."
Nyxia's breath caught.
Ves leaned in. "Say it again. Just once. And I'll make you a god."
Nyxia closed her eyes.
Then drove her knee into Ves's ribs and screamed as her armor ignited.
The rune glowed.
The Vault roared.
And the final battle began.