The first receives. The second answers. The third opens.
The same instruction Fate had found. Only now, carved into a wall instead of copied onto a scrap of paper, it felt less like a ritual sequence and more like a threat someone had spent decades refining.
"Open what?" Arthur asked.
"No one knows," I replied.
Abi's silence beside me said he knew more than he wanted to say, and I didn't press him. Not here. Not with listening walls.
