The air in the secret stairwell didn't smell like the soot and steam of the upper levels. It smelled of ozone and ancient, preserved earth. As we descended, the industrial clamor of the turbine hall faded into a heavy, ringing silence. My hands, wrapped in fresh bandages, throbbed with every step, but the physical pain was a grounding wire against the rising cold in my chest."The architecture is changing," Leo whispered, holding his lantern high.He was right. The rough-hewn stone of the University’s foundation was giving way to seamless, matte-black panels that felt warm to the touch. This wasn't High Council masonry; this was Sovereign-era tech, hidden in plain sight for forty years."Wait," Killian said, his hand snapping to the hilt of his iron sidearm.A low, melodic hum vibrated through the floorboards. At the base of the stairs stood a door made of solid, translucent crystal. It didn't have a handle or a lock. Instead, a small, silver indentation was set into the center o
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