Caelum kept his golden eyes on the script carved across the sealed door.
"It has been a while, Caelum."
The voice rolled in from behind him, deep enough to drag along the stone and come back off the walls with a growl buried under it. Caelum did not turn. His hands stayed folded at the small of his back, leather gloves pressed together, his posture unbroken before the slab rising ahead of him — a door with no handle, no seam wide enough for a blade, no mechanism that strength or clever fingers could ever persuade. Once shut, it opened from the inside or it did not open at all.
Which meant Valttair would let them in when he decided their waiting had cost enough.
"Indeed," Caelum said, wearing the same even calm he carried everywhere. "It has been a while, Moses. I trust the years have treated you well."
