The vault was silent, but the air itself seemed charged, thick with decades of secrets. Every hum of machinery echoed like a heartbeat, punctuated by Valerian Crowe’s measured footsteps as he moved around the room, coat trailing like a shadow.

Alina’s fingers dug into her mother’s hand, pulse racing. Ares and Atlas flanked her like living walls, eyes sharp and unblinking. Helena’s presence was a steel anchor, her gaze locked on Valerian, every muscle coiled, every nerve ...