Chapter 222: The Vault!!

The rest period ended quietly.

The sun had shifted, its light now angled deeper into the sinkhole. The golden beams stretched longer across the grass, casting shadows of the great tree like protective arms around the clearing.

Men rose slowly from where they had been sitting.

Boots tightened.

Magazines checked.

Water bottles emptied.

Elias lifted his radio once more.

“Hello. Status.”

Static answered.

He adjusted the dial.

Nothing.

Only a faint hiss of interference.

Kaelo crossed his arms.

“So they are gone?”

Elias lowered the device but did not show fear.

“We cannot say yet. It could just be the signal failing. This place is deep.”

Monk’s eyes remained on the massive stone door.

“We must prepare for the worst.”

Elias laughed loudly, the sound echoing against the stone walls of the sinkhole.

“What are you talking about, Monk? We are about to be rich for generations. Why do those men matter? They are sacrifices we had to make to reach here.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

Monk closed his eyes briefly and murmured another quiet prayer.

Kaelo shook his head.

“Leave him, Elias. He will not understand.”

Elias grinned.

“Then who else wants to be rich? Stand up. We are opening the door.”

Near the base of the tree, Miles lay on the soft grass, hands behind his head, staring up at the circle of sky above.

He spoke without moving.

“Are they ready now?”

Maddock stood beside him, watching the others.

“Yes. The rest is over.”

Miles’ lips curved faintly.

“How unlucky they are. I gave them the most beautiful place to enjoy before they rest permanently.”

Maddock allowed himself a smirk.

“They do not deserve even this.”

Miles pushed himself up to his feet.

“You are right.”

He dusted off his vest calmly.

“Are you ready for some action?”

Maddock’s eyes sharpened.

“I have been waiting forever.”

Then—

A subtle vibration pulsed from Miles’ wrist.

A soft beep.

Almost lost beneath the rustle of leaves.

Miles glanced down at his watch.

He clicked the side dial.

A coded message flashed briefly across the small display.

Miles smiled.

“Well. More guests are coming.”

He rotated the dial smoothly.

A signal was sent.

Far away.

To Star Harbor.

“Time for the next move,” he murmured.

“Hey Elias!”

A voice echoed from above the sinkhole rim.

Everyone looked up.

At the edge of the chasm stood Artem and his group, silhouetted against the sky.

Elias burst into laughter.

“I knew you would come!”

Monk scanned Artem’s men quickly.

All accounted for.

He released a quiet breath.

Artem spread his arms slightly, looking down at the hidden sanctuary.

“What a place you have found. Looks like we arrived at the perfect time.”

Elias waved him down.

“Come down. We are about to move.”

Ropes were thrown again.

Artem’s men descended one by one, boots hitting the grass below. Their gear was wet from rain, but their eyes were alert.

Monk’s men bowed slightly as they regrouped.

Miles watched them descend without expression.

Then he spoke.

“Where is Basil?”

The question sliced through the moment.

Everyone turned to look at Artem.

The wind stirred lightly through the leaves.

And the massive stone door waited behind them, silent.

…..

Artem landed on the grass with theatrical calm.

He removed his gloves slowly, eyes sweeping across the clearing as though admiring his own stage.

“You want to know about Basil?” he said lightly. “We took care of the tribal problem last night. They thought they were clever. They were not.”

The words fell like stones.

“Basil…” Artem paused, lowering his voice just enough to sound convincing. “He fought bravely. He sacrificed himself for me. I would not have made it out without him.”

Silence spread across the sinkhole.

Basil’s men froze.

One of them dropped to his knees without realizing it.

Another covered his face.

A third stared blankly at the grass, lips trembling.

“He sacrificed himself to protect ,” Artem continued, as if narrating a legend.

Elias lowered his head.

“He was a good man,” Elias said slowly. “I have known him my entire life. We disagreed, we argued, but he stood with us until the end.”

He looked at Basil’s remaining men.

“His sacrifice will not go to waste. His share will go to his son. And to you. You who stood beside him.”

Monk closed his eyes.

“May the creator grant him peace.”

The words echoed softly against the stone.

Kaelo clapped his hands once, impatient.

“Enough. This is not the time for grief. We are standing in front of history. We open that door.”

Elias inhaled sharply and nodded.

“Everyone. Move.”

Men gathered before the massive stone door.

Up close, it was even more imposing.

It was carved from a single slab of ancient rock, edges perfectly aligned within a stone frame. There were no visible hinges. No handles. No gaps large enough for tools.

Just a seamless surface with faint engravings almost erased by time.

“Push!” Elias shouted.

Shoulders pressed against stone.

Boots dug into earth.

Veins bulged in necks.

The stone did not move.

“Again!”

They tried in rhythm this time.

Grunting.

Straining.

The door did not even tremble.

Kaelo stepped back, breathing hard.

“This is ridiculous.”

Artem pulled out his pistol.

“Move.”

He fired.

The gunshot echoed violently through the sinkhole.

Dust fell from above.

The bullet struck the door and left nothing but a shallow scratch.

Another shot.

Another.

Only sparks and faint marks.

Elias fired his rifle next.

The metallic clang rang harsh and useless.

“It is barely scratching it,” Hilda whispered.

A man stepped forward nervously.

“We could use explosives.”

Immediately several heads snapped toward him.

“Are you insane?” Kaelo barked.

“This is a sinkhole. Blast the wrong angle and the side collapses. The entrance seals permanently.”

“And we get buried alive,” Monk added calmly.

Elias slammed his fist against the stone.

“Damn it! What is this door made of?”

Miles laughed.

It was soft.

Almost amused.

Artem’s head snapped toward him.

“Why are you laughing, brat?”

Miles tilted his head slightly, pointing lazily toward Maddock.

“How about you give my lucky man a chance?”

Artem stared at Maddock up and down.

“Him? What can he do when we can’t?”

Miles shrugged.

“Well… you will see.”

Elias folded his arms.

“Oh? Then let him try.”

Miles exhaled faintly.

“Maddock.”

Maddock stepped forward and gave a small nod.

“Thank you, young master.”

He turned to the others.

“Move.”

Reluctantly, the treasure hunters stepped away from the door.

Maddock stood alone before the ancient slab.

He did not push.

He did not fire.

He simply placed his palm against the surface.

Then he tapped the stone lightly with his knuckles.

Once.

Twice.

Then again at a different height.

Artem frowned.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Maddock stepped back from the shattered stone dust.

He rolled his shoulders once.

Then his breathing changed.

Slow.

Deep.

Measured.

He lowered his center of gravity, one foot sliding behind the other. His spine straightened. His fists tightened but not in rage. In precision.

It was not wild strength.

It was discipline.

His right palm rose, fingers extended, then slowly curled inward. His left hand hovered near his ribs. His hips rotated slightly as he adjusted his footing.

Monk’s eyes narrowed.

Maddock inhaled once.

Then he moved.

Not with brute force.

With structure.

He surged forward in a single explosive step, hips driving first, spine aligned, shoulder following through. His palm struck the exact center seam of the stone with a short, compressed thrust that transferred the force from the ground through his legs, through his torso, and into the door.

A sharp crack echoed.

The impact was not loud.

It was heavy.

A second strike followed instantly. This time with the base of his palm angled slightly downward.

The stone fractured along invisible stress lines.

A third blow.

A deep splitting sound rang through the sinkhole.

And then

The massive slab broke apart.

Not into powder.

But into split sections that collapsed inward with a thunderous crash.

Dust erupted.

Echoes roared up the stone walls.

Everyone froze.

Jaws dropped.

Kaelo actually staggered back.

Artem stared with his mouth slightly open.

Hilda stepped back instinctively, her breath uneven. It was not surprise alone. It was recognition.

She had seen that form before.

Somewhere.

Long ago.

Maddock brushed the dust from his sleeves casually.

Miles smiled quietly.

Monk stepped forward a little.

“This technique… it is…”

Elias turned sharply.

“What is it?”

Monk studied Maddock carefully, then lowered his gaze.

“Nothing. It is… impressive.”

Kaelo shook his head.

“What does he even eat? Is he really human?”

Elias gave Maddock an appraising look.

“You should serve me. Why are you calling this brat your young master?”

Maddock scoffed.

Miles stepped beside him.

“Well done. That was heavy.”

Maddock scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Well… thank you. I guess your homemade snacks did their job.”

Miles chuckled softly.

Elias waved his hand impatiently.

“Whatever. We are going in.”

A few men stepped over the broken stone pieces and entered first.

Their flashlights pierced the dust-filled darkness.

“There are stairs!” one shouted from inside. “They go up!”

Artem groaned.

“I am tired of climbing.”

Elias pressed a button on his radio, though static still whispered back.

“Move.”

They entered.

The air inside was cooler.

The staircase spiraled upward along stone walls, narrow but stable. Their boots echoed in rhythm as they climbed. Breath grew heavier with each step.

Up.

Up.

Up.

Finally

The staircase ended.

And before them stood a vault.

Not wooden.

Not rusted.

A solid metallic structure embedded into stone.

Smooth.

Cold.

Unmarked except for a circular mechanism at its center.

Flashlights reflected off its surface.

No hinges visible.

No handle.

Just the silent weight of something that had waited for a century.

Elias stepped forward slowly.

A greedy smile spread across his face.

“Now it is your turn, Miles Sterling.”

He gestured toward the vault.

“Open it.”

…

Outside, on the forest floor.

The rain had thinned to a cold mist, clinging to leaves and soaking into boots. The air smelled of wet earth and crushed moss.

The armed unit moved in tight formation through the trees, weapons raised, steps calculated.

“Captain,” one of the men whispered through his headset. “It seems we are almost there. The signal is strong now.”

The captain raised his fist.

The column halted instantly.

Branches shifted aside.

And then they saw it.

Massive walls.

Rising out of the forest like something that did not belong to nature.

Concrete.

Smooth.

Deliberate.

Stretching left and right beyond immediate sight.

The captain narrowed his eyes.

“What is this place?”

The men stared in disbelief.

“How can there be solid walls in this forest?” another murmured. “That is not an old stone. That looks reinforced.”

“It looks like development,” someone else said under his breath. “Modern.”

The signal device in the captain’s hand blinked steadily.

The source was inside.

“Careful,” the captain said quietly but firmly. “There can be people here.”

He turned toward his unit.

“Switch magazines. Full load.”

The metallic clicks echoed softly as fresh magazines were locked into place.

“Check your sides. We circle the boundary first.”

The men split into two smaller squads, spreading out to survey the perimeter.

Vines clung to sections of the wall, but not enough to suggest it had stood for decades untouched.

This was maintained.

Guarded.

Hidden.

“Captain,” a voice whispered over comms. “No visible entry point from this side.”

“Same here,” another responded.

The captain studied the surface.

“This is not tribal construction. This is engineered.”

He looked at the blinking device again.

“The signal is inside.”

His voice hardened.

“We analyze from all sides first. No rushing. No assumptions.”

The forest around them was too quiet.

No birds.

No insects.

Only the faint dripping of water from leaves.

And the massive wall standing silent before them.

“To be continued…”

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