Aries Mars's Arc

Chapter 9 of 11

Aries kneels before the crimson throne, the scepter planted in the stone floor. The ram horns at its crown begin to hum. A blue glow spreads down the shaft. The scepter tilts on its own, pulling toward the throne behind him. He grips it tight, but the force grows stronger. It drags him to his feet and points past the throne, down into the floor itself. He rises and steps around the crimson seat. The Aries sigil on the headrest flares red. Dust shakes loose from the platform. Stone grinds against stone as the throne slides aside, revealing a stairwell he never knew existed. Cold air rushes up from below. The scepter pulls harder, dragging him down the steps into the dark. At the bottom waits a black vault marked with the red Aries symbol. Two iron hinges flank a sealed door. The scepter rips from his grip and locks into a slot at the center. The symbol burns brighter. Bolts slam back one by one. Aries steps closer, breath shallow. He never built this. He never sealed this. Yet it knows him. The door swings open. Inside, a single dark tablet hovers above a stone pedestal. Its surface ripples like deep water full of stars. Aries reaches in and lifts it. Symbols crawl across the cosmic surface—his name, his birth, and a long list of duties he abandoned. The tablet shows him every choice he refused to make. Every person who waited for a guide who never came. He lowers the tablet, hands shaking. The scepter falls from the door and clatters at his feet. He has his symbol of leadership back. He has the record of what he owes. But the silence inside the vault is louder than any arena he ever fought in. He picks up the scepter and the tablet together. The vault stays open behind him. There is no closing it now.