Chapter 72. Ash Beneath the Veil

They entered through the lower maintenance corridor beneath the Ninth Archive Gate—a service route rarely patrolled, used mostly by sanitation crews and those few remaining glyph-mechanics trusted not to tamper with resonance.

Royce handed the sigil-token to the mirror guard without a word.

The guard barely glanced up from his post.

Dust clung to Royce’s coat, and Adria had stained her gloves just enough to pass for one of the east-wing scribes sent to fetch catalogued relics. Their names were false, their cover clean: Tier 2 restoration crew, under rotational shift. No flags. No inquiries. Routine entry.

The mirror scanned the sigil, pulsed green, and opened.

That was the easy part.

The city beyond was not as forgiving.

Solara always shimmered—metal and stone polished into brilliance, corridors so clean they echoed. But now, beneath the gleam, something twitched. The air was taut. Conversations whispered lower than usual. Even the resonance