In the chamber's center stood the Pillar — a towering monolith of obsidian, its surface carved with interlocking runes in the First Tongue. The carvings pulsed with dim, rhythmic light, like a breath drawn from stone, like a heart that had never stopped beating. The presence of the Pillar was immense, not simply in size but in gravity. It demanded reverence. It was reverence.
Kai approached slowly, his footsteps echoing across the chamber with a solemn weight. His voice trembled with awe as he spoke. "This is it."
Varaan moved alongside the Pillar, circling it with careful, measured steps. His fingers brushed the surface without touching it, eyes narrowed in focused thought. "It's a beacon," he said, "a memory anchor — and still active, in some way. If we can reactivate it completely… if we can rebind it to the Source, we might be able to stop the rewrite. Or delay it long enough to find another way. But even here, it's eroding. You can feel the strain in the stone."
