A few hours later, the joint force—comprising Raihan's holy warriors, Kain's Exo Knights, and the ISSD operatives—stood united before the gate leading to the fifth floor.
The door was unlike any they had encountered before. Unlike the stone-and-metal barriers above, this one was carved from obsidian laced with pulsating silver veins. Strange symbols—not just arcane, but ancient divine glyphs—moved slowly across its surface like living things.
Raihan stepped forward. From his inner robe, he pulled out a scroll sealed with five rings—each bearing an angelic crest, glowing with faint celestial light.
He broke them one by one, reciting in a forgotten tongue. The language was Old Celestian, spoken only by the high priests of the Ancient Holy Empire. His voice echoed, unnaturally clear in the stillness.
"O Flame of Origin, O Watchers of the Deep, O Blade in Silence... Grant us passage, not in pride, but purpose. "
