Beyond the dissolved obsidian gate lay a chamber of pristine, terrifying silence. In the center, atop a spire of white stone, rested a singular object: a Grimoire. Its cover was not the common leather of the Academy's workshops, but a shifting, metallic weave that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
Aleric squinted, his crimson eyes throbbing. To his sight, the book was a dense, pre-constructed knot of logic. Thousands of mana-threads were trapped within its pages, waiting for a spark to ignite them.
Professor Elara stepped forward, her hand reaching out with a caution that bordered on dread. "A Grimoire of the First Architect..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I have seen these scholars in the lower levels toting these books, Professor," Aleric said, leaning on the wall as the 'Brain-Strain' receded. "Is this the prize we came to this level for, sir? A simple device of our trade?"
A slanted look from Elara, her hand mere centimeters from the metal lid. "The trinkets thou hast observed are but poor copies, Aleric, and clumsy 'Output' loops penned by those who hardly know the alphabet of magic. But if this is, in fact, a product of the Architect of Grandis, then its logic might be of a different caliber."
She did not boast; instead, she looked at the book with a scholar's wariness. "Yet, a Grimoire is a locked door until its 'Input' is mastered. I know not what spells are etched within these pages, nor if the 'Code' is still stable after a millennium of decay. It could be the greatest treasure of the Empire, or it could be a localized catastrophe waiting for a touch."
With a sharp, decisive movement, she took the tome from the pedestal. To Aleric's vision, the book did not just sit in her hand; it began to draw a faint, tentative thread of mana from her Azure Aura, as if testing her. She did not look refreshed; she looked burdened, as if she had just picked up a live serpent.
She tucked the relic into her robes, her eyes immediately scanning the dark corners of the sanctum. She ignored the empty pedestal, her gaze searching the shadows behind the white stone spire with a lingering, restless hunger.
"It is a windfall, Aleric," she said, her voice tight. "A tool that might—if the code holds—change my standing in the Capital. But it is a mystery yet to be solved."
"And it is not why we are here," Aleric said, his tone level.
Elara's expression turned into an impenetrable mask. "We have the Grimoire. That will have to be enough for now. Do not speak of what I seek or do not seek."
She headed for the door, but Aleric hesitated. For his trained eyes, the "Logic Threads" in that room did not originate from the pedestal. Rather, they seeped out through a hairline crack in the floor beneath it—a hidden path that the Grimoire had been concealed to hide.
"We must leave," she commanded, her voice growing dark. "The vault hath been disturbed, and I would not test an unknown Grimoire against the guardians of Grandis if it can be avoided."