The desert was silent.
No wind. No stars. Just a black sky stretched over an endless expanse of sand that swallowed sound. Zain stepped off the rented jeep, boots sinking into the dunes. His phone's GPS marked the exact coordinates, but there was nothing here
no ruins, no vault, not even a rock.
Then he noticed the footprints.
Not his.
Bare feet. Deep impressions. Leading toward a faint glow in the distance.
He followed, every step crunching like broken glass underfoot. The glow grew brighter—pale, silvery, shifting like moonlight on water. But the moon was hidden.
At the center of the glow stood a man in white robes, tall, lean, his face hidden beneath a hood. The sand around him shimmered as if under water.
The man spoke without looking up.
"You carry the Seal, Keyholder. But you are not ready to open the Vault."
Zain tightened his grip on the manuscript. "You know what this is?"
The hooded figure's head tilted slightly, as if amused.
"It is not what it is. It is what it holds."
He stepped aside, revealing a circular stone disk half-buried in the sand—the exact design from the manuscript. Faint red lines pulsed along its surface.
Zain stepped forward.
The figure's voice hardened.
Once opened, it cannot be closed. Once awakened, it will not sleep."
The heartbeat rhythm filled the air again, vibrating through the ground.
Dum. Dum. Dum.
Zain placed his palm on the seal. The symbols flared to life, glowing gold under his touch.
The hooded man's voice dropped to a whisper.
Then the Shadow keeper will come for you."
A shockwave erupted from the disk, flinging sand into the air. The desert roared with sudden wind. In the distance, shapes began to emerge from the darkness—tall, thin, inhuman silhouettes moving fast across the dunes.
The man in robes stepped back into the shimmering air and vanished.
Zain was alone.
And the Vault… was opening.