As Aziz stepped into the darkness beyond the iron vault, a strange sensation washed over him.
The air was thick, almost tangible, and the moment he crossed the threshold, torches lining the walls flared to life, illuminating a vast chamber unlike anything he had expected.
Before him stretched an enormous hall—no, a museum.
Statues, paintings, and glass cases lined the room, each containing artifacts of untold value and significance.
The walls were carved with ancient script, detailing stories and histories he did not yet understand.
The room itself felt... old. Older than the Order. Older than the Faceless Academy.
"Where are we?" Aziz muttered, his voice swallowed by the cavernous space.
"The Vault of Truth," the House Keeper whispered. "This is where the Order stores the knowledge they dare not share with the world. History rewritten. Truths buried. And, most importantly, the reason you and every other recruit were taken."
