The air in the ancient city was sterile and still, like the breath of a world that had not changed in ten thousand years.

Every sound seemed too loud, the hiss of armor seals adjusting, the soft crackle of Thalassaria's trident humming with abyssal energy, the faint buzz of unseen machines waking in distant halls.

Caedrion stood before the console that rose from the floor like a monolith of living glass.

It responded to no touch, no word, only presence.

When he drew near, the surface bloomed with light, lines of shifting geometry circling his hand as if the system were tasting him.

The voice returned, calm and cold:

"Resonance detected. Dormant Administrator-tier signature. Awaiting authentication."

Thalassaria floated beside him, her gaze sweeping the room.

"This structure is alive," she murmured. "Every wall breathes power. It's as if the sea itself was built to worship it."

Caedrion exhaled slowly. "It's not worshiping anything. It's running a diagnostic."

She blinked, the term meaningless to her.

He stepped closer to the console.

"System, confirm user identity. Descendant of the primary line. Resonance signature, active."

The voice paused, as if considering. Then:

"Administrator presence acknowledged. Systems transitioning from dormancy to limited operational mode."

Thalassaria stared at him. "It obeys you."

"Apparently." He tried to keep his tone even, though the weight of it pressed on him like a crown he hadn't asked for.

He knew he couldn't risk linking this colony back to the Architect beneath Dawnhaven.

Not yet. If Thalassaria learned there was a living Eidolon, the real divine blood, her ambition might drown the world in pursuit of it.

So he chose his next words carefully.

"System, you will not establish external communication. Containment protocol active. Understood?"

The response came sharp, almost indignant.

"Containment of data link to central lattice is unauthorized. Connection protocols supersede localized command."

Caedrion narrowed his eyes.

His operational authority was limited. Nor did he fully understand command codes that would be relevant to overriding this limitation.

Instead he pulled out the key which hissed with the rust light that both he and the last living Architect bound beneath dawn haven had poured into it.

He shoved the key onto the interface's scanning panel.

There was a hiss, a warbling distortion, as though the entire network recoiled.

Then, reluctantly:

"Override accepted. Containment active. External channels disabled. Local operations only."

He turned back to the shifting display, now alive with script and symbols that reconfigured themselves as he looked, the language of the Eidolons, half mathematical, half divine.

To Thalassaria it was an incantation. To Caedrion it was code. Code in a language he did not understand in the slightest.

He could only rely on verbal commands in his own language which the system appeared capable of translating.

"System," he said softly, "identify this site."

"Colony 09-Theta," the voice replied. "Designation: Ilharen Biogenetic Research Complex. Status: abandoned. Population: unregistered. Purpose: experimental outpost in pre-colonization phase."

Thalassaria frowned. "Colony?"

Caedrion's pulse quickened. "You said pre-colonization… this wasn't a city. It was a lab."

"Correct."

"Explain its purpose."

The pause that followed was long enough for the tension to turn brittle.

The humming of the machines grew quieter, as if the city itself were eavesdropping.

"Core directives: development of matter-stabilization systems for semi-corporeal entities; creation of synthetic lattice substrates to anchor Archon-grade resonance into stable form.

Secondary directives: biological reclamation, refinement of hybrid progeny between Eidolon and corporeal lineages."

Thalassaria frowned. "Archon… matter-stabilization, semi-corporeal entities… these words mean nothing to me."

Caedrion's eyes darkened. "They should. The Archons were the first caste, the true sovereigns of existence. They didn't rule fire, or sea, or stone… they ruled matter itself. The laws that make such things possible. Your kind," he glanced at her gently, "descends from those who served them, lesser Eidolons who mastered only fragments of creation."

"System," he continued, "define biological reclamation."

"Off-record experiments to restore stability in hybridized offspring between Eidolon and corporeal entities. Objectives: recovery of lost resonance, containment of uncontrolled energy flux, and elimination of organic degeneration.

Status: sealed."

The light across the chamber dimmed, the console's pulse slowing to a nervous rhythm.

Thalassaria's trident flickered once, its glow paling. "Off-record," she said. "You mean forbidden."

"By the Archons themselves," the voice replied. "Protocol 19, Silence, Prime. Breach punishable by termination of subject."

She turned toward him, brow tight. "Termination?"

"Death," Caedrion answered softly. "Erasure."

Thalassaria's jaw tightened. "So even your gods feared their own children."

He shook his head. "They weren't gods, Thalassaria. They were tyrants, slavers of form and function. They bred and dissected their own creations to maintain order. And when their bastards proved too human to control, they erased them."

"And you," she whispered, "carry their blood."

Caedrion didn't reply. But the console's light reflected in his eyes like the rust-light of the Archons themselves, the last glimmer of a dynasty that once built the world, and broke it.

The system continued, indifferent to the awe or horror its words carried.

"All biological prototypes were terminated upon the initiation of the Exodus. Surviving materials were sealed beneath the Administrator's decree. This site remained under lockdown to prevent contamination."

"Contamination," Caedrion echoed. "You mean whatever they were making here… escaped."

"No record available."

The silence that followed was immense.

Outside the translucent dome, the legions of Submareth waited, motionless as statues, unaware that the world they served was cracking open at its seams.

Caedrion turned back to the console. "System, provide remaining records of Colony 09-Theta."

"Partial data recovered. Warning: integrity at thirty-two percent. Proceed?"

"Proceed."

A cascade of symbols flared across the air. Some he could almost read, others scrolled too fast, the syntax fracturing into alien grammar.

Images flickered, humanoid forms suspended in vats of luminous liquid, their bodies half energy, half flesh.

Great coils of machinery wrapped around them like metal serpents.

Charts of genetic sequences streamed past, annotated with equations that made his brain ache.

And then, for a heartbeat, an image froze: a child's silhouette, glowing faintly. Its body wasn't physical, just a lattice of light shaped like a human form.

The file collapsed into static.

"End of record."

Caedrion's throat tightened. "System, where did the research lead? Were any of the subjects preserved?"

"Unknown. Primary archives destroyed during Exodus. Only residual lattice signatures remain in containment sectors."

Thalassaria's voice broke through his haze. "This place," she said softly, "feels older than the sea. Older than memory itself. What became of your, Administrators?"

He met her eyes. "They left. Maybe they ascended. Maybe they died. Maybe they built something they couldn't control and fled before it devoured them."

"Or maybe," she countered, "they became gods."

He didn't argue.

He just looked back at the machine, the ghost of an empire that had traded flesh for infinity and paid for it with extinction.

"System," he said finally, "register Thalassaria of Submareth and her legions under my authorization. All commands and access routes are to be routed through me."

Instantly the voice protested.

"Request denied. Non-authorized species cannot receive system credentials."

Caedrion's jaw tightened. "Override. Administrator authority."

"Override denied. Classification protocols immutable. Attempted authorization of non-Administrator entities violates…"

"Override!" he barked, the word reverberating through the hall like a hammer.

The city shuddered. Light surged across the ceiling in a ripple that made the air vibrate.

Then, grudgingly:

"Override accepted. Secondary guest access granted under Administrator supervision.

Warning: genetic dissonance may cause structural interference."

Thalassaria blinked as her armor flared with new light, patterns of living energy etching themselves along her arms. "What… did you do to me?"

"I gave you clearance," he said. "Congratulations, granted restricted access through the ruins without risking termination."

She frowned, flexing her fingers as motes of light coiled around her claws. "It feels… alive."

"It is," Caedrion murmured. "It's linking to your aura. Trying to translate your magic into a format it recognizes."

He could see the data streams adjusting in real time, recalibrating to accommodate her power signature.

He then entered their personal information on the registry so that there were names linked to their biometric data.

The machine was learning, adapting, even after ten millennia of silence.

The voice returned, calmer now.

"Administrator Caedrion Ferrondel. Subordinate Thalassaria Virelith registered under guest privielges. Awaiting next directive."

He exhaled. "Run full environmental scan. Map this facility."

The chamber dimmed as thousands of strands of light shot outward from the console, tracing corridors, halls, tunnels.

A vast holographic model materialized in the air, an impossible labyrinth of corridors spiraling downward into a core that pulsed faintly, like a second heart beneath the first.

"Map complete. Warning: energy fluctuations detected in containment sectors below. Bio-resonance signatures still active."

Thalassaria's grip on her trident tightened. "Living things," she whispered.

"After ten thousand years?" Caedrion said. "Impossible."

"Not impossible," the system corrected. "Designed."

He stared at the projection. "System, what kind of lifeforms?"

"Access restricted. Authorization insufficient."

"Insufficient?" he muttered. "I thought I was the Administrator."

"You have administrator privileges but your access is still restricted from access to classified subsystems. You would need Archon level status to gain unrestricted access to the facility and all of its systems."

The words hit harder than he expected.

Archon… An ancient title from his past life, frequently associated with tyrants in the Hellenistic world. Now a symbol of status long forgotten in another world.

Thalassaria touched his arm gently. "You're pale."

He forced a breath, shaking it off. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"That maybe your abyss isn't the deepest thing in this world."

She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Then she smiled faintly. "Whatever depths remain, little guppy, we'll face them together."

He almost smiled back, but the light of the console flickered, a single phrase repeating across the display like a heartbeat.

UNAUTHORIZED ENTITY: DETECTED BELOW PRIMARY SECTOR.

Thalassaria's eyes narrowed. "What now?"

Caedrion didn't answer. He could already feel it, a distant pulse beneath the city, slow and terrible, like something ancient shifting in its sleep.

And somewhere, in the deepest dark of the abyss, a darkness began to stir.

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