Location: The Celestial Observatory, Sector 1 (Upper Atmosphere).
Time: 23:00.
The capsule slowed, cushioned by a pocket of compressed air, and deposited them onto a polished obsidian floor.
Dante stumbled out, clutching his stomach. Silas fell to his knees and kissed the floor. Valerius simply adjusted his sunglasses, unbothered by the g-force.
They were in a cathedral dedicated to the void.
The Observatory was a massive, open dome located on the highest peak of the Spire, miles above the smog layer. The air here was thin and freezing.
Dante looked up. And stopped.
For the first time in his life, he saw the stars.
Not the chemical flares of the factories, or the bioluminescent glow of the moss-lamps. These were real stars—millions of them, dusting the velvet darkness like diamond dust. The Milky Way was a scar of light across the sky.
"It's... too much," Silas whispered, shielding his eyes as if the beauty hurt. "It makes you feel small."
"It makes you feel clean," Valerius corrected, staring up with his reptilian eyes wide. "The Garden never showed us this. The ceiling was always meat."
Dante walked to the center of the room.
Dominating the space was The Eye of the Ancients—a telescope the size of a train, made of polished brass, obsidian, and lenses ground from gemstones that no longer existed.
Dante pulled the Key—the Astrolabe—from his pocket.
"Prime," Dante whispered. "Interface."
"Scanning," Prime's voice echoed. "Device compatible. Insert the Key into the primary aperture."
Dante slotted the Astrolabe into the telescope.
CLICK. WHIRRR.
The massive machine groaned. Gears the size of carriage wheels turned. The telescope swiveled, pointing North.
A beam of light shot from the eyepiece, projecting a hologram onto the domed ceiling.
It was a Star Chart. But it wasn't mapping the sky; it was mapping the Ley Lines of the earth.
Seven points of light appeared on the map.
One was blinking in Sector 7 (The Library).
One was blinking in the North.
"There," Dante pointed. "The Second Axiom."
The map zoomed in. It showed a mountain range—The Spine of the World.
Deep inside the highest peak, a symbol glowed. The Axiom of War.
"We have a location," Silas cheered. "We just have to climb a mountain!"
"Wait," Valerius said, pointing at the map. "Look at the thermal reading."
Around the mountain, the map showed a massive, pulsing red aura.
"Analysis complete," Prime stated, his voice grave. "The thermal signature is not volcanic. It is biological."
"Biological?" Dante asked. "It's a mountain."
"Correction," Prime said. "It is a Geo-Titan. A dormant, elemental behemoth from the First Era. The mountain is not guarding the Axiom, Dante. The mountain IS the guardian. It is alive."
Dante stared at the map. The North. The cold. A living mountain that breathed fire.
"Great," Dante muttered, buttoning his coat against the chill of the high altitude. "I'm going to need a bigger bomb."
He grabbed the Key from the slot. The map vanished.
"Pack your winter coats, boys," Dante said, turning to his crew. "While the Baron is busy fighting the Bank, we're going on a ski trip."
Silas groaned. "I hate the cold."
"You'll hate being dead more," Dante said. "Let's go. We have a Titan to wake up."