The chamber had been stripped of anything that suggested reverence. The careful lanterns once used by clergy were gone, replaced by hard white beams that carved the space into measured zones. Shadows were not permitted to linger. Every surface had been marked, checked, measured again. This was no longer a place of study.
The crystal dominated the center of the room. It rose from the stone like a growth rather than a structure, no pedestal, no seam where it met the foundation. Its surface pulsed faintly, steady and indifferent to the bodies moving around it. The zealous members of the church had learned not to stare. They knew the destruction of these relics was needed, but it was still sacred to them.
Crates lay open nearby. Inside each rested a compact metal cube, edges reinforced, corners braced with dull gray bands etched in tight, unfamiliar patterning. At the center of each cube sat a crystalline core, suspended and inert. No glow. No heat. Nothing that announced its purpose. Yet.
Two zealots knelt at the base of the node, drilling anchors directly into the surrounding stone. They worked with practiced speed, spacing checked, clamps seated, tolerances verified twice before tightening. The device was not attached to the crystal. It was anchored around it, hugging the foundation as if preparing to grow inward.
Ara-dul noted the spacing. Correct. Close enough to matter.
Veylan stood nearby, arms crossed, watching his people with the satisfaction of someone who understood effort, if not consequence. His armor showed beneath his robes, functional plates stripped of ornament. His arm bands marked authority, earned through obedience rather than contemplation.
"Secure the second housing," Veylan said. "Don't rush it."
"Yes, sir."
Ara-dul shifted his weight slightly, the movement barely perceptible beneath layers of bandage and cloth. The mask concealed his expression, but his attention was absolute. He catalogued each step. Each hesitation. Each unnecessary glance toward the crystal. They were nervous. That was acceptable.
"The weapons have been retreaved," a black clad mercenary said to Ara-dul. "My men have been deployed at each site."
"Very good."
"Are you sure that we will be having company?"
"I am sure."
Footsteps echoed sharply through the tunnel behind them, fast, unrestrained. Ara-dul did not turn.
Elara entered the chamber like a storm given shape. Her robes were still immaculate, white fabric edged in gold, but her hood was thrown back and her expression was tight with fury she had not bothered to soften. Five arm bands glinted at her sleeves. Authority worn openly.
"What is this?" she demanded.
The chamber froze.
One zealot straightened instinctively, then hesitated, eyes flicking toward Veylan. Another stepped back from the crystal, hands hovering uselessly.
Ara-dul turned slowly.
"Elara," he said. "You are not scheduled to be here."
"I followed the movement orders," she snapped. "Crates transferred at night. Armed escorts. No clergy oversight." Her gaze locked onto the device being seated into the stone. "You said relocation."
Veylan stepped forward. "Fifth Rank, you need to—"
She cut him off with a look sharp enough to draw blood.
"You are anchoring something to it," Elara said, her voice lowering as understanding dawned. "You are not moving it."
Ara-dul raised one gloved hand. She stopped, but only barely.
"You exceeded your remit," she said. "Whatever the Cardinal instructed, this endangers the city. These relics are why the Church is tolerated. If the state believes we are destroying them—"
"They will believe nothing," Ara-dul said evenly. "If this is done correctly."
"That is not reassurance."
"It is reality."
She turned to the zealots, urgency cutting through her composure. "Listen to me. This is not doctrine. This is not peace. This is coercion through fear. If something goes wrong, the state will not distinguish between you and us."
Doubt flickered.
Veylan glanced at Ara-dul. "Sir?"
Ara-dul reached beneath his coat and withdrew the medallion.
Gold. Heavy. Worked with sigils that carried unmistakable authority. The room changed. The zealots straightened as one. Doubt evaporated, replaced by the relief of hierarchy clarified.
Elara stared. Betrayal crossed her face.
"You would invoke the Cardinal's name."
"I am his hand," Ara-dul replied.
"This is heresy," she said hoarsely.
"You are clergy," Ara-dul said. "Your role is preservation. Mine is execution."
She stepped back, shaking her head. "If the city reacts, if the state turns its attention on us, this will be on your head."
"It matters not. And I can assure you, the state will not interfere."
"What happens when you destroy them?" Elara pleaded "What will happen?"
"It doesn't matter. This is all for the will of the Cardinal."
"Why? Why would he ask for this? Where is the peace?"
"Escort Fifth Rank Elara out," Ara-dul said. "She is no longer cleared for underground operations."
Two zealots stepped forward. Elara searched their faces and only found obedience. All doubt was erased.
"Then may he answer for this," she said as they led her away.
The tunnel swallowed her protests quickly. Stone absorbed sound well.
The chamber breathed again. Work resumed. Ara-dul stepped closer to the crystal. The device sat flush now. One of three in place. He did not feel triumph. Only progression. A figure leaned against the far wall, half in shadow. White robes. A red sash wrapped tight at the waist, trailing down one leg. Not a rank marking. A choice. At his side rested a sword. Crystal-bladed. Blue. Awake even at rest. Erin watched the crystal with open fascination.
"Does it hurt?" he asked lightly.
One zealot flinched.
Veylan scowled. "Don't speak unless—"
"Have you finished?" Ara-dul asked.
Erin straightened immediately. "Every site is secured."
"You enjoyed that," Ara-dul said.
"They don't see me when I don't want them to."
Ara-dul inclined his head. "Remain on watch."
Erin smiled thinner. "Of course."
Ara-dul turned to Veylan, voice pitched low. "Mobilize the rest of the zealots. Begin preparation at the other sites. Crates move beneath the church only."
Veylan nodded. "Understood."
Ara-dul gestured again, drawing Veylan farther down the tunnel, beyond the heavy lights.
"The first three are secured," Ara-dul said. " I am sending you to another location. I require your discretion and obedience in this."
"Another location?"
"Yes," Ara-dul said. "The Cardinal gave me one other location to find. I have some of our mercenaries guarding it."
Veylan frowned. "Excavation?"
"No. That is unnecessary. The site is perfectly preserved."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Take a handful of your men. Remove your robes. I want no one to know that you are with the church. Take the last bomb there. I need you to secure it and then detonate it."
Veylan nodded.
"Take this," Ara-dul continued. He handed Veylan a piece of paper. "This has the exact location, the phrase I told the mercenaries to wait for, and the object you need to destroy. Once you are done, do not come back to Old Port Landa, go to one of the other churches in the city."
Ara-dul turned.
Erin was staring at nothing. He spoke as if someone stood in front of him. He was a sad man, but useful.
"Go now, Velyan."
Veylan vanished down the tunnel. Ara-dul returned to the chamber. Three crystals prepared. The real target soon to be destroyed. Above, the Church fed the hungry and spoke of peace. Below, the city's foundations were being altered. For the better or worse, it mattered not to Ara-dul. His only concern was fulfilling the wishes of the Cardinal.