"Not enough," Arthur said, his brow furrowing. "It wants a person."

"I'll do it," Marek replied, already stepping forward.

"Negative," Gunner snapped, shaking his head.

"I'm lighter," Lyra chimed in. "If the tile drops, there'll be less force."

Mireille moved her hand slightly, but Arthur quickly shook his head. "No steps. We need to do this controlled." He turned to the archaeologists. "What do the base bands say?"

Kaelen ran a fingertip along the floor line of the middle door, whispering as he read: "When the burden of the oars meets the burden of the stone, the prow lifts."

Josef stood by the left door and added, "The rain falls on the shield that stands tallest."

Marta at the right door concluded with, "Only those who climb together reach the gate."

"Together," Ethan remarked dryly. "What a sweet way to say 'trap.'"

Arthur instinctively reached for his radio but remembered too late about the interference and lowered his hand instead.

He measured the central door again with keen eyes before glancing at both pillars and then at their grid layout.

"We're splitting weight across this center line, four soldiers staggered out. We'll add two archaeologists and one bag to make our count right. The rest of you hold your positions. If those ropes pull too fast, step back to safety."

Gunner nodded sharply in agreement. "Call your names."

"Marek, Lyra, Vos, Stone," Arthur instructed confidently. "Adrian and Marta will join me as weight readers. Holt,bag goes to my left."

"On you," Marek affirmed.

They moved like pieces on a chessboard, deliberate and focused.

Marek took position in square one; Lyra claimed square five; Vos stepped into nine; Stone settled into thirteen.

Adrian and Marta positioned themselves at either end of their formation with feet carefully placed on square edges while Holt set down a sandbag between Lyra and Vos before easing his hands away.

The hall seemed to hold its breath.

The ropes above creaked ominously before settling into a new rhythm,a tick-tick that quickened but led nowhere yet: no groaning doors or singing hinges.

"Again," Arthur commanded firmly. "One square forward."

They advanced cautiously; first easing then resisting against unseen forces until on their third move Marta's gaze darted sideways. "Look..the hawks!"

On the base band of the central door, tiny carved hawks lifted their necks just slightly, a subtle change that felt monumental when everyone noticed it together.

"Good," Arthur encouraged them all with renewed hope. "Adrian, count with me."

Adrian swallowed hard but steadied himself as he began counting aloud: "One… Two… Three…"

They moved forward in deliberate steps, their weight evenly distributed as they listened to the creaking ropes and studied the intricate carvings around them.

At the seventh, the hawks' heads were poised high.

By eight, everything remained unchanged. But at nine, the lowest carved wave beneath the prow seemed to smooth out.

"It's working," Kaelen whispered, a hint of hope in his voice.

"Or it's just pretending," Ethan replied skeptically.

At ten o'clock, the central door exhaled,a barely audible sigh of stone sliding against stone.

Everyone instinctively leaned forward. Arthur raised a hand, and every shoulder pulled back as if connected by an invisible thread.

"Hold," he commanded. "Holt, second bag, position it between Vos and Stone. Ren, how's Jace holding up?"

"Still here," Ren replied firmly. "Still mine."

"Take another step," Arthur instructed.

They pressed on.

The ropes relaxed once more before locking into place.

A tongue of stone slid back within the seam at the base of the central door with a satisfying click.

"Latch," Josef said, excitement creeping into his tone. "I heard a latch."

"Same here," Helena whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Arthur allowed himself a brief exhale before nodding to his team. "Back by one square. Move slowly."

They carefully stepped off the grid as the ropes retracted quietly behind them, inching back one notch at a time.

Once they were clear, silence enveloped the hall again,the hawks on the door remained lifted while the base seam stayed unlatched.

"The middle door responds to distributed load," Arthur noted dryly. "The left and right doors likely respond to different patterns."

"What about rain on that tallest shield?" Ethan suggested while glancing at the left door. "So... weight stacked on one pillar path?"

"And 'climb together' for the right side," Mireille added thoughtfully. "Staggered up diagonally."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "We're not opening all three doors; we only need one."

"But which one?" Gunner asked earnestly, not as a challenge but as an anchor point: choose wisely so we can move forward.

Arthur's gaze returned to their map,three rectangles marked with knots above them, and then shifted back to his team: their expressions tense.

Ren's gloves stained with drying blood; Ethan's mouth set in that hard line he wore when humor fell flat; Adrian's hands trembling now that strategy had given way to action.

"We take the middle door," Arthur decided firmly. "The ship..it rewards shared weight and is easiest for us to interpret quickly."

Mireille nodded once in understanding.

"Form up for load distribution," Arthur directed decisively. "Same order and pace,no rushing! Jace stays back with Ren and Holt; if anyone hesitates, we break and reset."

"Roger that!" Gunner affirmed as he sprang into motion.

They took their places once more, the tension in the air palpable as the hall held its breath.

The ropes creaked ominously overhead, and even the hawks seemed to perk up, lifting their little heads just a notch higher.

Below them, the base seam widened to the width of a finger,an unsettling invitation.

As the last note reverberated through the space, a deep rumble echoed from within the door's ancient stones.

It was like thunder rolling across a distant sky, filling every corner of the hall and climbing up into the vaulted ceiling above.

With a slow but deliberate motion, the middle door began to part along its seam,first a hand-span, then a foot, finally enough to exhale a gust of frigid air that left frost clinging to the edges of intricately carved waves.

Ethan shivered involuntarily. "That is definitely not welcoming."

"Nothing here is," Mireille replied with an edge of resignation.

Arthur raised his hand with authority. "Hold your positions," he commanded. "Weapons ready. Archaeologists center stage."

The middle door completed its agonizingly slow retreat with a final thud that resonated through their bones.

Beyond it lay a narrow throat of stone leading into darkness.

Arthur turned his head slightly so his voice could reach everyone gathered there.

"We've made it through one corridor and one hall," he stated firmly. "We've shed blood to get here. We are not invincible, but we are prepared for what lies ahead. We go in clean; we don't touch anything unless absolutely necessary. Remember: keep breathing and keep moving."

Gunner met Arthur's gaze with unwavering resolve. "On you."

With that, Arthur stepped through the threshold first, his visor dimming as it adjusted to meet the encroaching shadows.

The passage beyond was narrower than before but just as meticulously crafted—the grooves in the stone precise and intentional.

Low at knee height ran symbols,a band of text that seemed almost like an obstacle waiting for someone to trip over if they weren't careful.

Behind him, his team flowed into formation seamlessly,their movements honed by countless hours of practice until they were second nature.

Ren whispered something to Jace before nudging him into safer position while Adrian and Marta readied their pencils without letting their hands stray too close to any stonework.

Kaelen counted quietly under his breath, one… two… three… all the way to seven, before stopping abruptly as if afraid that even numbers would draw attention from whatever might be lurking nearby.

After twenty paces, they entered another chamber where walls suddenly opened up wide enough to swallow their entire group twice over!

A grand carved hall awaited them; cold air spilled forth like an unwelcome greeting from its gaping mouth.

At its far end stood three imposing doors side by side,heavier than those before them, with deeper carvings and symbols twisted so tightly together they resembled woven rope frozen in time.

Ethan halted in his tracks, disbelief etched across his face. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Gunner remained stoic, but a flicker of something dark passed through his eyes,like a man tallying up unwelcome figures. "Three again."

Arthur felt the tension knotting in his jaw. He raised his map, only to find it betraying him with nothing but blank space where a corridor should have been.

Frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

He lowered the map and cast a glance at the doors looming ahead.

Then he took in his team,their tense shoulders, their uneven breaths, and the vivid smear of red still drying on Jace's sleeve from their last encounter.

"All right," he murmured softly, almost as if speaking to the ancient stone surrounding them. "Have it your way."

The hall seemed to absorb his words, an eerie silence settling around them.

And there they stood before three locked doors, each one holding secrets waiting to be uncovered.

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