The mist drifting from the chamber thickened, curling around their ankles like pale fingers. Each thud that followed reverberated up the pillars, through the ground, into their bones.

THUD.

A low growl tremored through the air — not like any beast or undead they had fought before.

Oliver lifted his sword.

Ariana raised her staff defensively.

Ronald moved protectively in front of Princess Elisha.

Isolde? She only watched the darkness ahead with an amused glint. "Something ancient… and angry."

From the far shadows of the altar, a blue glow flared to life — first like dying embers, then roaring into full brilliance.

Two eyes.

Burning, ghostly blue.

Then a shape stepped forward — its footsteps cracking the stone tiles.

It towered nearly four meters tall.

Humanoid in shape but forged of black stone and obsidian-like plates.

Intricate glowing runes pulsed across its arms, chest, and head — the same symbols carved all over the ruin, only brighter… alive.

Chains of mana trailed behind it like broken shackles.

Its face was a smooth helm — no mouth, no nose — just a single, jagged rune across its forehead.

Ariana whispered, "A rune golem… but this one… it's different."

Isolde's eyes locked onto the runes dancing across its armor. "No. This is from the old empire. Pre–human kingdom era."

The golem raised its arm. Stone groaned. Magic crackled.

With a pulse of runic light, the giant slammed its fist onto the ground.

BOOM!

A shockwave burst outward.

Dust and debris exploded from the floor.

Oliver shielded Elisha with his body as the wave pushed them back, boots scraping the floor.

Ronald planted his sword into the earth, using it as an anchor.

Isolde simply stood there — the pressure breaking around her like a soft breeze.

Ronald's voice was tense. "Princess, we need to retreat—"

"No," Elisha cut in, breathing unsteady but eyes firm. "This is what we came for."

Oliver tightened his grip on his sword. "Then we don't run."

Isolde looked sideways at Oliver. "Think you can handle it?"

He rolled his shoulder once, smirking despite the tension. "After the Undead King? Why not make it two in a row?"

She chuckled. "Try not to die. I'm not healing you."

The golem's chest lit up with runes — lines forming circles — one after another.

"Move!" Ariana cried.

FWOOOOSH—!

A beam of compressed mana shot across the floor.

Oliver grabbed Elisha and rolled aside — just as the beam carved a molten trench where they'd stood seconds before.

Ronald charged next, blade glowing with aura. His strike hit the golem's arm.

CLANG!

Sparks flew.

His sword bounced off harmlessly.

Isolde whispered an incantation — her fingers dancing with crimson rings of light.

"Crimson Lance."

A spear of condensed fire shot forward — faster than an arrow.

The golem crossed its arms to block, runes flaring in response.

BOOM!

The explosion sent shockwaves through the hall, cracking pillars.

Oliver dashed through the smoke. Rune-etched sword ready.

He swung.

The blade met the golem's leg.

KRSH!

This time — the stone cracked.

A line of glowing mana seeped from the wound.

Oliver's eyes widened. It worked.

But before he could follow up—

WHAM!

The golem's backhand sent him flying.

He hit the wall. Hard.

"Oliver!" Elisha shouted.

He grinned through the blood on his lip. "Still alive!"

Ariana cast a barrier in time to block debris flying from the golem's next strike.

Ronald intercepted another blow aimed at Elisha.

Isolde raised one hand — and gravity warped. For a second, the golem slowed, its limbs dragging as though caught underwater.

"NOW!" she yelled.

Oliver's eyes sharpened.

He sprinted forward — sword glowing with wind runes this time.

At the same moment — Elisha lifted her hand, chanting under her breath.

A golden crest lit beneath the golem.

Royal Family Spell — Oathbind.

Chains of golden mana erupted, snaring its legs.

It roared — no sound, but the mana pulsed wildly.

Oliver leaped.

Sword over his head.

Wind surging behind him.

"—Wind Edge: Sever!"

His blade came down.

SLAASHHH!

The golem's arm — rune and all — split apart.

Stone shattered.

A surge of light burst from the wound, then shattered into rubble.

Silence.

Only the sound of labored breathing.

A few knights sat back, stunned. One whispered shakily,

"W-What kind of monsters are these people…"

Oliver fell to one knee, panting — exhausted, but alive.

Isolde landed lightly beside him.

*******

Dust still hung in the air.

Chunks of the shattered stone guardian lay scattered like fallen pillars, glowing faintly before going dark. Ariana sat down where she stood, shoulders rising and falling as she steadied her breathing. The knights were silent — battered, bloodied, but alive.

At the far end of the chamber stood a massive stone gate — ancient, towering, carved completely with spiraling runes.

A low thunk echoed.

Then another.

The lock mechanism — unseen before — began to move.

Oliver exchanged a look with Isolde.

She nodded once. "Let's go see what your ancestors died for."

Elisha stepped forward too, wiping dirt from her cheek. "That door… it should lead deeper inside. To the expedition's final point."

Ronald, still supporting a knight with a broken arm, hesitated. "…Princess, let us lead—"

She shook her head. "No. I'll go."

Oliver glanced back at Ariana. "Stay with the injured. If anything happens, call us with a flare."

"Got it," she nodded, gripping her staff.

And with that — Oliver, Isolde, and Elisha pushed open the ancient door.

*****

The chamber they entered was massive—rotunda-shaped, its high ceiling held up by pillars.

Cold stone pillars circled the room, each etched with half-eroded runic lines. At the center stood a cracked stone dais — and on it, a single metallic object lay amidst dust and ruin.

A cube.

About the size of a clenched fist. Smooth silver surface, but alive with shifting lines — not carvings, but runes constantly flowing like liquid light beneath the metal.

Oliver stepped forward, almost as if drawn by it.

"Oliver—" Isolde warned in a low tone.

He didn't stop. His hand reached for the cube. Her palm was still smeared with half-dried blood — from battle, from injury.

The moment his fingertips touched it—

The cube pulsed.

The runes flared — silver to blue to blinding white — and lines spread out from the cube, spreading across the dais, into the cracks on the floor like veins awakening. It started absorbing his blood.

"Oliver!"

Isolde yanked him away, holding him tightly.

But the cube didn't stop.

It drank the remaining blood staining its surface… then began to hum.

A deep, resonating vibration came from the stone floor. Dust rained from the ceiling.

Everyone tensed — weapons out, magic prepared.

"What now?" Ariana whispered.

Oliver didn't answer.

His eyes weren't on the cube.

They were on the walls.

Faint carvings had come into view — illuminated by the cube's glow. Not rune. Not magic script.

Words. Written in an old language.

Oliver squinted… then his lips moved.

He began reading.

His voice echoed off the walls — quiet, but each word felt heavy.

*****

"Year 972 of the Aetherion Calendar.

We did it. The pinnacle of magi-technology is complete — a sentient, a vessel of steel and spirit.

Forged from Tenebris rune theory, and powered by the Aetherion core.

*****

Isolde's breath hitched—eyes wide.

"Tenebris… that's my—!"

Oliver raised a hand. "Calm. I'll keep reading."

He continued.

"We created not merely a weapon—but life. A mind that thinks. A heart that learns.

We believed the world would praise us."

A pause.

Oliver's voice grew quieter as the text darkened.

"We were wrong.

The gods turned their eyes upon us.

Blasphemers, they called us.

Makers of false life. Abominations."

He swallowed and kept going. Everyone listened, frozen.

"The great nation of Aetherion, born of logic and craft,was condemned by divine decree.

Cities burned. Our people slaughtered.

The Sentient being—our masterpiece—

was declared a sin against the heavens."

Elisha's eyes trembled.

Isolde's fists clenched.

Oliver kept reading.

"This is our last sanctuary.

Here lies the fruit of thousands of minds—

our final child Seraphine-01.

If you find this place…

Do not use her as a weapon.

Do not chain her.

Please… give her a life worth living."

Silence.

Even the cube had gone still, its glow now a soft heartbeat of light.

Oliver swallowed, voice soft but steady.

"To whoever finds this sanctuary —

Do not fear it.

Do not use it as a tool of war.

Give it a purpose.

Give her… a life."

No one moved.

Even the knights—bloodied, exhausted—stood frozen, their eyes fixed on Oliver or the cube as though afraid to even breathe too loud.

Elisha stared at the cube.

"A living… weapon?" she whispered.

Isolde crossed her arms, her expression grim but fascinated. "Not just a weapon. A sentient magi-tech construct—one built using runes from Tenebris. That means—"

"—this was never just about treasure," Oliver finished quietly.

Before anyone could say more, a metallic click echoed through the chamber.

Then another.

Whirr… ka-chk… ka-chk…

Mechanical gears groaned to life beneath the dais.

Everyone spun toward the altar.

The cube was moving.

*******

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