With each passing second, more steam hissed from the walls and the device above the door. The pipes shuddered violently, then, with a sharp snap, the shimmering barriers holding the others vanished.
Almost immediately, the two side walls of the chamber began to lower into the floor, their grinding metal echoing through the room. Behind one of them, another group was revealed. Ryan and his team, standing wide-eyed in the haze.
"Ryan," Leo said, puzzled, "you were doing the tests too?"
"Not exactly," Ryan replied as he stepped forward. "We entered a room, and a voice just kept repeating the same thing, wait. I figured you were handling something, so we stayed put."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "So you were waiting this whole time?"
Ryan shook his head, and Luciana answered instead. "We just reached that room about five minutes ago. We were exploring the city."
Arthur turned to her. "And did you find anything?"
Luciana shook her head again. "Nothing useful."
Leo's gaze shifted toward the bronze door ahead of them. "Then whatever's useful is probably behind that door."
He stepped closer, hand hovering near the handle, but before he could touch it, the same voice echoed through the chamber.
"Only one may enter."
Leo paused, glancing back at the others. Arthur met his eyes and gave a small nod. The others followed suit.
Leo sighed quietly, then pushed the door open.
The instant he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind him with a deep, final thud. The sound cut off, everything cut off. The faint hum of magic, the mental link to his companions, all gone.
He walked through a long, narrow corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly, pipes running along the ceiling, releasing thin wisps of steam. At its end was a single chamber, silent, metallic, and dimly lit.
In the center stood a throne made of blackened brass, its surface covered in intricate carvings and runes. Dozens of thick pipes snaked into its back, pulsing faintly with amber light.
Seated upon it was an automaton, motionless, yet alive. Smaller tubes ran from the throne into its chest and arms, feeding some unseen mechanism within.
What caught Leo's attention most was the familiar flow of mana coming from within the seat. It pulsed softly, steady and alive, the same presence they had felt once before. One of the very reasons they had come here at all. Another Orb of the Goddess of Nature.
As Leo stepped closer, the automaton's eyes flickered open. When it spoke, its mouth did not move, the sound came from deep within its chest, like a voice traveling through machinery.
"You may ask twice… and wish once."
Its voice was deep and metallic, every word carrying the weight of centuries.
Leo's mind swarmed with questions, a hundred things he wanted to know. But he forced himself to focus. He only had two chances. He had to choose carefully.
From everything he'd learned so far, one question stood above all other, one that might determine everything that came next.
He took a steady breath and asked, "How does time flow in the Maze of Madness compared to our world?"
For a moment, there was no response. Leo began to think the question might have been too much even for this ancient construct. Then the gears in its torso began to turn, slow and deliberate, filling the silence with the grinding sound of metal on metal.
"Each day in the Maze," the automaton said at last, "is equal to twenty-nine minutes and fifteen seconds in the real world."
Leo's brow furrowed. "Twenty-nine?" he muttered, already running the numbers in his head.
'So three months there will be around twelve years?' Leo calculated quickly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. 'Just as I expected.'
With one question asked he had one wish and another question left, and he already knew what to ask for. He couldn't wish for infinite power or immortality; the system itself would reject such corruption. Every wish had to fit within the rules of this world.
He also knew he couldn't simply ask to take the orb, and even if he could, he wasn't sure he should. So he shifted part of his consciousness inward, reaching for his domain. Unlike before, the connection formed easily.
Within his domain, he walked through the quiet gardens until he found Ilandra, seated between the flowers.
"You don't intend to take the orb, do you?" she asked without looking at him.
"I think this city still needs it," Leo said, his gaze steady on her, waiting for some kind of approval.
"My orb isn't corrupted here," Ilandra replied after a pause. "I have no objection. Another of my orbs lies within the vampire city, and we'll retrieve that one soon enough."
Leo nodded silently, unsure of what more to say. Then, with a single breath and focused thought, he pulled himself back from the domain.
If he wasn't going to wish for the orb, then he could at least ask for help in finding the other one. It was a safer choice, and a smarter one. The Goddess's orb in the vampire city would be far harder to reach, and any advantage he could gain now might decide whether they survived the coming war.
"I wish for a way to defeat Lucius and his army without losing any of my friends."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a hatch opened in the floor before him with a hiss of steam. From within rose a small bronze staff, plain, almost unimpressive.
Leo stepped forward and picked it up. The metal was warm, yet there was no pulse of magic, no whisper of enchantment. It felt… ordinary.
He frowned and looked toward the automaton. "I don't understand."
The machine's glowing eyes flickered once.
"When the time comes, you will."
Leo couldn't help a quiet smile. The fact that the automaton understood him so precisely confirmed his suspicion, this wasn't just an ancient construct. It was aware.
Still, one last question remained.
He extended his hand, mana swirling around his fingertips, forming glowing sigils in the air, the pattern of the spell he had been working on for months. "How can I complete this spell?"
For a moment, nothing happened. Then another hatch slid open beside him, and a single scroll floated out, suspended in the air by invisible energy.
Leo waited until it drifted close enough, then gently took it. The parchment pulsed faintly with runes of shifting silver light. He smiled. 'Finally.' He decided to study it later.
The automaton's voice echoed again, deep, cold, and final.
"You have asked your last question. You may leave now."
Leo nodded, turned toward the exit, and took two steps before stopping. Something still gnawed at the back of his mind. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder.
"As I've already used all my questions," he said quietly, "you don't have to answer this one. But I know you can understand me."
The automaton remained silent, its gaze fixed forward.
"Are you," Leo continued, "the scientist who created the Codex Arcanum?"
The name lingered in the air like a spark of magic. The Codex Arcanum, the legendary spellbook said to record every spell ever created, its pages rewriting themselves with the birth of new magic. Its creator had vanished centuries ago, leaving only myths behind.
The automaton gave no reply. No movement. Not even the faintest hum.
But Leo didn't need an answer. The silence told him enough. A place like this, a city that functioned like a vast living archive, capable of storing and retrieving knowledge like thought itself, was the only thing that could truly manage the Codex.
The real scientist was long dead. This… was his echo. His creation.
Leo gave a final nod, then turned away, the bronze staff in one hand and the glowing scroll in the other. The door opened soundlessly before him, and he stepped through, leaving the ancient guardian alone once more in the darkness.
Instead of leading him back to the chamber he came from, the door guided Leo directly outside the building. The light hit his eyes, sharp and clean after the dim bronze glow inside. He blinked, scanning the empty street with a brief flicker of unease, until he saw Arthur and the others waiting near the corner.
Relief washed through him. He walked toward them, a faint smile on his lips.
"What are those?" Ryan asked, eyeing the bronze staff and scroll in Leo's hands.
"These," Leo said, holding them up for a second before lowering them again, "are the things that will help us defeat the vampires."
"How exactly?" Edgarth asked, brows furrowing.
Leo sighed, tucking both items quickly into his magic bag before anyone could look closer. "I have no idea. The automaton said, when the time comes, I'll understand."
They all exchanged uncertain glances. The silence stretched for a moment before Arlasan finally spoke.
"So… what now?"
Leo looked around, at the towering metallic buildings, the silent machines gliding across the streets, the distant hiss of steam echoing between walls. For all its brilliance, the city felt less like a wonder and more like a slumbering beast.
"Now," he said, meeting their eyes one by one, "we leave."
"What about the orb? Wasn't that our main goal?" Edgarth asked, adjusting his glasses.
"I don't think we should take it," Leo replied. "This city might help us in the future, it needs to stay alive. And honestly, I don't think we could defeat all these automatons even if we tried."
No one argued.
When they had decided to come here, they had prepared for a brutal fight, for trials that might cost lives. Yet somehow, it had all ended with riddles, silence, and strange gifts whose purpose they didn't understand. It didn't feel like victory, more like the city had allowed them to pass.
And none of them wanted to test its patience.
They began to walk. Their boots echoed faintly against the metal streets, surrounded by rows of automatons still working tirelessly, unbothered by their presence. The further they went, the more the air seemed to hum, until they reached the grand gate, the same one that took a long time to open before.
This time, it shifted on its own. The massive doors groaned apart, releasing a wave of cold air from the world outside.
One by one, they stepped through.
As soon as the last of them crossed the threshold, the gate began to close again. Leo turned to watch, the bronze city shrinking behind it, vanishing piece by piece until the metal walls sealed completely.
Leo adjusted his cloak and looked ahead. "Let's go," he said quietly.
…
Back at the Hope.
The following night marked the gathering. But before it began, Leo had one last task to complete.
He made his way down the quiet corridor to a small room where Briva and Elna waited. The low light from a single lantern cast long shadows across the walls.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the gathering?" Briva asked as Leo stepped inside.
"I am," Leo said, taking a seat across from them. "That's why I called you both here. I want you to pledge your loyalty to the Creator."
Briva frowned. "What? Why?"
Elna said nothing, her gaze steady as she waited for him to explain.
Leo turned to Briva first. "You follow the Goddess, and you already know she swore her loyalty to the Creator. That should be reason enough for you."
Then his attention shifted to Elna. "I'm asking you to trust me. I don't have a reason that will satisfy you now, but I can show you, once you've done the prayer. It will strengthen your power for the battle ahead."
Elna nodded immediately.
Briva exhaled through her nose and crossed her arms. "Fine."
Leo had planned this for months. He needed to be certain Elna would be safe. As a vampire, her nature made the process risky. He'd run countless experiments, testing his domain's power on vampire blood, mixing it with his own, observing every reaction. With Arthur's divination, he used his domain's power to confirm the results. Now, he was confident it would work.
Both women already knew the words. They closed their eyes and began to chant, their voices steady and low.
"The Creator, eternal presence, neither good nor evil, bearer of both light and shadow, who forged balance from chaos and gave form to the formless.
From nothing, You spoke.
From chaos, You sculpted stars.
In shadow, You placed the seed of light;
In light, the promise of shadow.
The Creator, who sees without eyes,
Whose voice echoes in silence—
Guide me as You guide all."