Opening Monologue:
"Curiosity is a quiet knife — it never cuts at first. It waits. Watches. Follows you deeper than you meant to go. And by the time you feel the sting… you've already bled."
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The cracked mask rested in Lullaby's hand, but now it felt less like a memory and more like a question. The chamber around him shifted — not violently, not threateningly, but like something ancient adjusting its gaze toward him.
Not hostile.
Not welcoming.
Simply… aware.
The golden veins along the walls brightened, threading patterns he couldn't read but desperately wished he could. They pulsed faintly, as though syncing with his heartbeat.
The orb hovered close, dim light trembling like a child gripping his sleeve.
Lullaby inhaled softly.
"What are you trying to show me?"
The chamber didn't answer with words — it answered with motion.
A thin trail of golden light unfurled from the floor, curling toward a descending ramp carved into the far wall. It wasn't there before. Or maybe it was, but hidden until now.
The orb chimed a warning.
Lullaby stepped toward it anyway.
As he followed the trail downward, the air grew cooler, thicker, filled with a faint hum like distant machinery or a song sung through clenched teeth. Shadows danced along the walls, not menacing but observing, reflecting his movements in ways that felt a second too delayed.
He paused.
A faint image flickered on the wall — golden silhouettes of children laughing, playing near small lanterns. A village… but not his. Older. Different. Too familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
A prelude. Not a prophecy.
Just history the Door remembered.
The image shattered into dust-like gold.
The orb chimed anxiously and nudged his shoulder gently, as if urging him back.
"Just a peek," Lullaby whispered. "I won't go too far."
The orb, unconvinced, dimmed.
The ramp spiraled downward until it opened into a vast underground gallery — an enormous hall carved with murals entirely made of glowing cracks. Lines of gold traced over walls in swirling shapes: circles within circles, symbols arranged like starlit constellations.
But one symbol appeared again and again:
A child's handprint.
Small. Perfect.
Pressed into the golden lines like a stamp.
"Why this?" Lullaby murmured.
The answer came in a soft pulse of light.
Not overwhelming.
Not dangerous.
But unmistakably deliberate.
Another memory mural appeared — not animated this time, static — showing the Galabies gathered before the Great Door. Not in fear. Not screaming. Not dying.
But celebrating.
Offering lanterns.
Placing handprints along the walls.
The Door used to be… sacred.
A gateway of blessing.
Not a calamity.
Lullaby stared — and for a split second, something inside him tugged.
Not a memory.
Not recognition.
Just a strange, aching familiarity, like a melody he'd forgotten how to hum.
He didn't know why.
But his chest tightened anyway.
He stepped closer to the mural — then froze.
A tremor shook the hall.
Not from danger… but from activation.
Something deep in the structure recognized him — or the mask he carried.
Golden veins surged softly, tightening their glow.
The orb let out a distressed chime.
A small, circular platform rose from the center of the hall, carrying an object:
A lantern.
Not lit.
Not broken.
Just waiting.
Made for a child.
Lullaby approached it slowly. This wasn't destruction. This wasn't calamity.
This was inheritance.
He touched the lantern.
A soft warmth bloomed beneath his fingers — not a vision, not a forced memory, just a pulse of recognition. As if the Door whispered:
"You belong to a story older than your fear."
The orb drifted behind him, calming slightly now, its glow aligning with the lantern's faint heartbeat of light.
Lullaby exhaled.
He wasn't falling into doom.
Not yet.
He was uncovering the world before the tragedy.
Before it all changed.
Before the Calamity tore everything apart.
The golden veins dimmed gently, signaling that the hall had shown him all it intended.
Lullaby looked to the descending path ahead — deeper, darker, winding into the silent belly of the Door.
He tightened his grip on the cracked mask.
Lifted the lantern.
And whispered to the orb:
"Just a little further."
The orb pulsed nervously… and followed him into the unknown.