Istanbul, Turkey – 6:28 AM
La Reyna sat at the edge of the hotel bed, fingers brushing the cold, iron-black key. It felt heavier today—like a legacy, a burden, and a whisper from the past. On the table nearby, Raezmir's letter remained unfolded. The ink had not faded, as if time itself had dared not touch it.
"The Vault will only open to those who are willing to die for the truth."
She inhaled deeply, yet her chest remained tight. This was not a mission—it was an inheritance, and perhaps… a curse.
Her mother's face flashed in her mind—gentle laughter while brushing her hair in front of a mirror.
"Whatever happens, you are El'Raez blood."
But that smile burned away in fire and screams. Bones snapped. Maeryss stood among the flames, triumphant.
Then… Lucien.
Their final embrace before she left Milan lingered in her memory.
His message from last night still remained unread.
"Madrid is cold tonight. But my chest feels colder without you."
She closed her eyes. Part of her longed to go back to his arms. But if she truly was "The Key," then love was a luxury she couldn't afford.
---
Madrid, Spain – Late Night
Lucien stood on his balcony, overlooking Plaza Mayor. The wind smelled of wet stone and citrus blossoms. His phone—silent.
He pressed his forehead against the iron railing, staring at the faint stars above. Inside, classified intel lay scattered across his table—reports on Council movements in Eastern Europe. One name circled in red: Sadık Bey.
"They're circling her. Like wolves."
Lucien turned back inside. A framed photograph rested near the documents—Raezmir, little Fathya, and the woman who once protected their world.
He whispered into the quiet, his voice trembling.
"If you fall, Fathya… I'll burn the world that dares to hurt you."
His fingers hovered over the screen. He typed:
"I can't protect you from Madrid. If anything happens… leave me your wrath. I'll use it as fuel."
Then deleted it.
She was never someone who needed saving. She *was* the storm.
Lucien sat down again, the lamplight brushing his face with a soft, golden sadness.
Somewhere, time ticked closer to something none of them could see coming.
---
Lyon, France – Simultaneously
In a hidden chamber beneath the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, blood and incense curled in the air like an unbroken sin. Candles flickered atop bones. The walls pulsed with ancient sigils.
Before a bloodstained mirror stood Maeryss.
Draped in a black-and-gold ceremonial robe, she smeared fresh goat blood across her lips. One of the Council's masked members spoke from the shadows.
"She'll reach the Vault."
Maeryss smiled—inhuman, ancient.
"Exactly as we planned."
Around her, other Council members emerged, their presence chilling.
"She believes the Vault holds answers," Maeryss whispered. "But she doesn't know… the Vault isn't salvation. It's a tomb."
"And the key?"
She laughed coldly. "Is her own blood."
She raised the bowl of blood to the air.
"Let her open it. Let her unleash what we buried. The world has been peaceful far too long."
The flames surged higher—welcoming the prophecy.
---
Eminönü, Istanbul – 8:12 AM
Their car moved slowly through narrow streets. Emir held a file on his lap.
"That old madrasa shut down in 1924. But beneath it… something man never sealed."
La Reyna gazed out. Seagulls cried. The scent of brine and prayer filled the air.
At Balat Bazaar, colors and chaos reigned—manuscripts, copper relics, forgotten curses. But none of them held what she came for.
Emir stopped at a quiet alley.
"We walk from here. Few know it still exists."
Stone under her boots felt like memories. Ottoman murals faded on walls. Wild vines strangled an old iron gate.
They reached a pale gray structure. Its wooden doors bore an ancient carving:
"Only the one who bleeds may enter."
---
Beneath the Madrasa
They descended the spiral stairs. Moist walls bore blood symbols. Before them stood a stone door—no handle, no lock.
La Reyna unwrapped the iron key.
"This is it?"
Emir nodded. "Only the heir's blood will open it."
Without hesitation, she drew a blade from her boot and slashed her palm.
Blood dripped onto stone.
Grinding echoed.
The ancient door groaned open.
But before light revealed the chamber beyond—
"Child of Raezmir," a man's voice whispered from the shadows.
La Reyna turned sharply. It wasn't Emir.
It was someone else.
Someone who had been waiting.