Chapter 187: SubSpace

Hearing what Lilian said, Albedo stepped closer to the pedestal, eyes locked on the swirling interior of the black sphere.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen, none of the Abyss’s crawling corruption, none of the ancient mana patterns he recognized, not even echoes of forgotten gods. This was something else.

Something self-contained and waiting for the right person.

The pedestal pulsed once and a ripple passed through the ground beneath their feet, soft but unmistakable. Almost like the cavern had just sighed that they weren’t touching the Voidstone already.

Lilian leaned in, voice hushed but trembling with reverence, “It’s calling to us.”

“Or warning us,” Albedo countered.

“Or testing us,” Elara added, stepping around to get a better view. Her brows furrowed as she traced the carved patterns with her gaze. “These runes… they’re harmonic, not elemental. They’re resonating with the Voidstone. It’s like the entire chamber is… alive.”

Albedo felt it too: a subtle awareness brushing against the edges of his mana senses. Watching and listening in on them, but not outwardly hostile to them in any way.

He placed one hand on the pedestal’s edge, “We do it together.”

Lilian nodded instantly, “Absolutely.”

Elara hesitated for half a heartbeat before exhaling shakily, “Fine. Together.”

They stepped closer to the pedestal, their shoulders nearly touching. Lilian extended her left hand to Elara, and her right toward Albedo. Elara grabbed on, squeezing tight. Albedo took Lilian’s hand with a firm, grounding grip.

The three of them stood as one, a small human chain around an artifact older than recorded history.

“On three,” Albedo said quietly. “One.”

The sphere pulsed.

“Two.”

The air tightened around them, a gravitational coil winding inward.

“Thr—”

Their hands touched the Voidstone, and everything around them dissolved.

The cavern, the stone, the stale air, all of it vanished like water being drained from a glass. The world around them folded inward, space collapsing like a curtain pulled tight, then exploding outward in a rush of light and sound that felt simultaneously deafening and completely silent.

Albedo didn’t feel a spell. He felt dimensional architecture, and then,

~THUD!~

Solid ground, warm air, and light, all of them barraging his senses

Albedo’s eyes snapped open as his boots touched marble. Not stone, but polished marble.

Elara stumbled forward, catching herself against a railing of pale gold. Lilian steadied her with a laugh that was breathless and exhilarated.

They stood on an open courtyard platform, no, a grand landing, overlooking something impossibly vast.

A castle.

An enormous, sprawling imperial castle that rose higher than mountains, its spires glistening with gold and moonlit silver. Floating rings of crystal hovered around its highest tower, rotating slowly like planets in orbit.

Waterfalls of light, not water, but pure luminescent mana—cascaded down its sides, disappearing into a lake that shimmered like a star-filled night sky.

The architecture was unlike anything of the present era, elegant curves, sweeping bridges of suspended energy, grand staircases carved from some polished white stone that reflected no light yet gleamed brilliantly.

Elara’s breath hitched. “We’re… we’re not in the Demonic Sea anymore.”

Lilian stepped forward with something approaching awe. “This is… pre-Abyss imperial. Like the ruins of Vorago, but intact. Preserved and Perfect. Someone must’ve planned and left this here, it’s prob being stabilized by mana formations,”

Albedo turned slowly in a circle, scanning every visible angle. There was no ocean. No water. Just a vast sky of swirling twilight, violet clouds drifting lazily overhead.

The castle stood before them like a monument to an age long dead.

Then a sound, or rather, a voice echoed in their ears, ancient, and seemingly coming from everywhere at one.

“INHERITORS… ENTER THE HALL.”

The sound wasn’t loud. It didn’t shout. It simply was. It existed all around them, in the stones, in the air, in their bones. A gentle pressure rolled over the courtyard, guiding them, nudging them forward.

Albedo drew Havoc and Ruin immediately, muscles tensing. “Identify yourself.”

No reply. Only the faint echo of the initial command reverberating through the massive courtyard.

Elara whispered, “It’s… inviting us.”

Lilian shivered. “No. Not inviting. Summoning. If this place is connected to a Voidstone network, it means this entire complex is sealed. Everything inside is preserved exactly as it was the moment the pocket dimension closed.”

Albedo looked again at the castle’s shimmering walls—the untouched gardens of floating lotus-flowers made of crystal, the fountains of mana, the gates carved with runic sigils that hummed beneath the surface.

“Then what’s waiting for us?” he asked.

Lilian’s eyes gleamed, “Could be alot of things. Answers, treasure, maybe history itself,”

Elara wasn’t smiling, “Or a test. Or a guardian who one shots us,””

Albedo stepped forward, boots clicking softly against the polished marble, “Either way… we’re moving.”

The grand pathway leading to the main castle entrance unfurled like a welcome mat for giants, smooth, winding, illuminated by soft glows embedded in the floor like starlight.

As they walked, the air warmed further, carrying a faint scent of something floral and unfamiliar.

No beasts, no Demonic Sea, no Abyssal Aura, just the pure mana and aura of an ancient civilization.

The castle doors stood ahead, towering structures of blackstone laced with intricate silver engravings, pulsing faintly in resonance with the Voidstone they had touched moments ago.

As they approached, the engravings brightened.

The doors began to open.

Not with creaking hinges or grinding stone, but very silent and effortless. The voice returned, softer this time, carrying an unmistakable gravity,

“COME. THE TRUTH AWAITS IN THE PALACE HALL.”

The doors finished opening with a whisper, revealing the first interior chamber, an immense atrium hall, wide enough to fit an entire modern airship inside. Moonlit-white marble stretched beneath their feet, veined with shimmering arcs of pale gold that pulsed like slow, steady heartbeats.

The ceiling soared so high it disappeared into soft, swirling mist. Dozens, if not hundreds of suspended crystal lamps floated in the air like drifting stars, each one casting quiet rings of bluish light over the floor.

Lilian whistled under her breath, stunned into a rare moment of silence. Then her lips curled into a smile that was equal parts awe and mischief.

“Well… since the voice didn’t leave a map or a directional arrow, I think we can safely assume this place is one big maze. The trial is finding the Palace Hall.”

Elara tightened her grip on her staff. “Or surviving long enough to reach it.”

“Both,” Lilian chirped, unbothered.

Albedo scanned the vast hall with sharpened senses, Havoc and Ruin held low but ready. Source Code flickered through his irises, analyzing, mapping, deciphering.

Yet even with all his enhancements, much of the palace remained opaque. Not hostile… but unreadable. Like it refused to be analyzed.

“We stay sharp,” Albedo said quietly. “Anything could be hidden here. Mechanisms. Constructs. Guardians. Don’t assume beauty means safety.”

Lilian flashed him a grin. “That’s why you’re holding my hand if something jumps out.”

“No,” Albedo said immediately.

Elara snorted despite her nerves and they moved forward together, crossing the first atrium into a long corridor.

The corridor branched into three possible routes, left, right, and straight ahead, each lined with tall arched windows showing shimmering twilight sky, though no matter the direction, the clouds outside seemed frozen in the same swirling pattern.

“This place isn’t obeying conventional spatial logic,” Elara murmured.

“It’s a sealed pocket,” Lilian said. “It only shows what it wants to show.”

Albedo pointed to the middle path. “No splitting up, we go straight.”

They followed him down the central corridor. The air grew warmer, scented now with faint traces of incense. The further they walked, the more each step echoed, the floors unnervingly perfect beneath their feet.

The silence pressed in as they continued exploring.

They didn’t find any guards, servants, beasts or traps. Just endless nothingness. That alone made Albedo’s instincts tighten.

Lilian walked with her fingers brushing along the runic engravings on the walls. “These aren’t warding runes. They’re memory seals. This palace was meant to preserve information.”

Elara’s head shot toward her. “Then the Palace Hall must be where the records or core memories are stored.”

“Or where the ruler once sat,” Lilian whispered reverently. “Imagine what person built this, maybe this place is the reason Vorago was built? They wanted to explore it so they built the city close by,”

Her theory was certainly interesting, but her next sentence was cut off as they stepped into another vast chamber.

This one was different.

Rows of tall crystalline pillars lined the walls, each resonating faintly with swirling lights trapped inside like living galaxies. The lights pulsed slowly, blue, gold, white, sometimes shifting into strange colors they couldn’t name.

Elara moved closer to one, eyes wide. “These look like… archives?”

Lilian clasped her hands together in excitement. “Yes! Memory Crystals. Earthquakes, wars, the Abyss, time, none of that can erase these. This palace is a vault of the past.”

Albedo didn’t step closer. His eyes remained fixed on the far end of the room, where another set of doors waited. These ones were smaller than the entrance doors, but still massive, still ornate, carved with interlocking geometric designs he’d never seen before.

The doors looked alive.

They pulsed once, golden patterns flowing across them like liquid metal reacting to their presence.

Albedo exhaled. “That’s our destination.”

“No,” Lilian said immediately, stepping up beside him. “It’s a destination. But the voice said the Palace Hall. That implies something central. Important. Final.”

“Elara?” Albedo asked.

Elara closed her eyes, breathing steady, attuning her mana senses to the environment. Lines of green energy flickered briefly around her irises as she used her Gift.

“Battle Map… doesn’t work right here,” she whispered. “It shows… corridors that don’t exist, and rooms that shift every time I blink. The palace is alive. It’s literally rearranging itself.”

“Great,” Albedo muttered. “So the trial is: find the Palace Hall in a shifting subspace that rearranges the interior.”

“And avoid dying along the way,” Lilian added cheerfully.

Albedo moved toward the golden-reactive doors.

Elara followed and Lilian bounced lightly after them, though Albedo could see the steel forming beneath her playful smile. She was fully on guard too, her blood magic coiled tightly beneath her skin like a ready serpent.

The doors sensed their approach.

And before Albedo touched them, they opened on their own.

A soft wind rolled out, cool, fragrant, and strangely peaceful.

But beneath that peace… a humming energy thrummed, like a restrained power too vast to describe.

Lilian whispered, “This feels like… a throne room.”

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