The wind whispered across the stone corridors of Velaris, carrying with it echoes of forgotten secrets. Otoku walked in silence, his footsteps muffled by the heavy mist that clung to the walls like living shadows. His gaze was sharp, focused, taking in every detail—the cracks in the stone, the flickering light of enchanted torches, the way the air seemed to thicken with each step deeper into the heart of the city.
Beside him, Noctis prowled with feline grace, his shadowy form weaving through the fog as if it were merely an extension of his own being. Otoku reached down, his hand brushing against the familiar weight of the Codex at his side. Its presence was both a comfort and a reminder—a tether to the countless lives he had lived and the unyielding path he now walked.
"The Veil is thinner here," Noctis murmured, his voice a whisper that threaded through Otoku's mind. "Can you feel it?"
Otoku nodded, his eyes narrowing. The air was heavy with the weight of arcane energy, rippling with faint distortions as if reality itself were struggling to maintain its grasp. "We're close," he replied, voice low. "The Codex stirs. Whatever lies beyond… it's calling."
They moved deeper, the light growing dimmer, shadows stretching longer as if reaching for them. The architecture shifted subtly—what had once been orderly and refined now twisted with jagged edges, the walls bearing marks that seemed less like cracks and more like wounds.
"Velaris wasn't always like this," Noctis said, pausing to sniff the air. "Before the Rift, it was the heart of knowledge. Now…"
Otoku's eyes lingered on a shattered mosaic, its pieces scattered like fallen stars. "Now it's a tomb." His voice carried a weight of finality, the kind that spoke of understanding rather than mere observation.
They pressed on, descending a spiral staircase that coiled into the earth like the spine of some ancient beast. Torches burned with violet flame, casting jagged shadows that writhed against the walls. Otoku felt the Codex pulse at his side, its cover thrumming with void-light.
At the base of the stairs, a massive door awaited—carved from obsidian and etched with runes that shimmered faintly, resisting the decay that had claimed the rest of the city. Otoku placed his hand upon its surface, the stone cold and unyielding.
"The Vault of Echoes," he murmured. "The place where memory and reality intertwine."
Noctis stepped closer, his eyes glimmering with arcane light. "You realize this isn't just a vault. It's a binding point—one of the last."
Otoku exhaled slowly, his breath fogging the air. "I know."
He pressed his palm against the runes, and they flared to life, spiraling outward in waves of violet and black. The door groaned, stone grinding against stone as it began to part, revealing a darkness so complete it seemed to devour the light.
"There's no turning back," Noctis whispered.
Otoku's eyes were steel. "There never was."
And with that, they stepped into the abyss, shadows folding around them like the wings of a great beast. The door sealed shut behind them, and silence fell once more over the ruins of Velaris.