The Codex chamber did not acknowledge them.
That was the first wrong thing.
Galathea noticed it before they even crossed the threshold-- before the door sealed behind them, before the quiet, controlled click that usually marked entry into a space that recognized presence.
Nothing adjusted, she did not sense any shift in pressure, no subtle recalibration in the air that usually followed her like a delayed echo.
It simply remained still and unaffected.
Beside her, Cael Alexander did not release her hand.
Not when they stepped inside, not when the door shut, not when the chamber settled into its sterile, deliberate silence.
His fingers remained interlaced with hers-- firm, steady, deliberate in a way that had nothing to do with habit and everything to do with intent.
Galathea felt the difference immediately.
The pull.
It wasn't violent. It didn't drag.
But it was there-- threaded through both arms, subtle and persistent, like something testing the edges of her awareness.
