The air was thick with tension as Alex and his allies navigated the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the ruined fortress. The only light came from Nyssa's dimly glowing dagger, illuminating the ancient carvings on the walls. Each symbol told a forgotten tale, a remnant of Zeta's lost civilization.
Soren led the group with silent precision, his gaze darting between the passages. "We're close," he whispered. "The archive chamber should be just ahead. If the Imperials haven't looted it, we may find the information we need."
Evelyn adjusted her grip on her pistol, scanning the shadows. "And if they have?"
"Then we improvise," Alex muttered, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his sword. His mind was a storm—thoughts of vengeance, the weight of his father's legacy, and the growing burden of leadership.
They turned a corner and came face-to-face with a massive stone door, etched with golden veins pulsing faintly with mana. Kael Dagon knelt beside it, tracing the engravings. "This is Saint craftsmanship. It will require a blood offering to open."
A hush fell over the group. Nyssa stepped forward, slicing her palm and pressing it against the stone. The door trembled, then slowly slid open, revealing a chamber filled with floating tomes and crystalline data cores.
Soren inhaled sharply. "This is it. We need to move fast."
As they stepped inside, an unnatural chill filled the air. Alex's instincts flared—danger was near. And then, from the darkness, a voice echoed, smooth yet laced with malice.
"You are not the only ones seeking the truth."
A figure emerged from the shadows—a Saint noble, cloaked in obsidian armor, his golden eyes glowing with power. "I've been expecting you, Alexander Valerius."
Alex tightened his grip on his sword. "Then you know how this ends."
The noble smirked. "Yes. In blood."
With a flick of his wrist, mana surged through the chamber, and the battle for the lost knowledge of Zeta began.