"Well, well, well," Michael murmured, examining the key in his hand. It was warm to the touch, pulsing with an energy that felt both ancient and… familiar. He glanced at the remaining heads of the serpent, each one a grotesque fusion of Skyhall's elite, their faces twisted in masks of fear and rage.
"Looks like we've stumbled onto something interesting, haven't we?"
The way they were acting, the sheer desperation in their movements, told him everything he needed to know. This wasn't just some random trinket. This key unlocked something. Something big. Something they were willing to die to protect.
Then he felt it. A subtle resonance, a faint hum of energy that echoed the power emanating from the key. It wasn't just coming from the key itself. It was coming from them. From the serpent. From each of the Ancestors fused within its monstrous form.
"Seven keys," Michael muttered, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Seven keys to… what, exactly?"
