The tunnel leading to the primary descent elevator was a bottleneck of desperation. The natural stone walls of the cavern had given way to reinforced obsidian blocks, carved with ancient runes that hummed with a low, rhythmic power. This was the chokepoint. With only fifty keys available for two hundred and fifty squads, the air here was thick with the scent of sweat, ozone, and the sharp, metallic tang of unsheathed weapons.
Vane led the Calamities Squad through the throng. He kept his star-steel spear held vertically, its tip silent and unlit. They moved with a synchronized efficiency that drew eyes from every direction. The news of the Rank 4 Guardian's fall had traveled faster than the squads themselves. Whispers followed them like ghosts. The commoner and his high-born allies had done the impossible, and they had the key to prove it.
