Approach the Chest

You step toward the dais, heart hammering in your chest. The treasure's glow spills across the chamber in soft rhythmic pulses - almost as if it were breathing. Each step closer to your goal makes the air denser, the hum in the walls louder, until it feels as if the entire ruin is listening for what you'll do next.

You kneel beside the chest. The light within isn't as harsh as you'd thought before. Instead it's... strangely inviting - its warmth wrapping around each of your fingers before you each touch it. The silvery cloth inside ripples faintly, stirred by an unseen current. For a long moment, you simply sit and watch the glow, half expecting the glowing treasure to move on its own.

You gather yourself and reach in.

Your fingers brush the fabric - it's neither metal no silk, but something altogether different. Cool and pliant, with the faint sensation of a heartbeat under the surface. The cloth unravels at your tough, folding away into mist and revealing what waits beneath.

Nestled inside is a sphere the size of a clenched fist, forged from that same metal as the hatch above and just as mirrored as the walls of the corridor. Inside the sphere's glassy core, lights swirl - tiny galaxies caught in a storm. You lift the orb, examining it. At your touch, a faint voice hums to life, gentle and distant:

"Memory reclaimed. Guardian restored."

The chamber responds immediately. The runes along the floor blaze to life in concentric circles, expanding outward from the chest. The statues flare back to life, each turning their faceless heads toward you. The obsidian statue takes a step toward you, it's arms extending - palms open in a gesture that's both reverent and pleading.

It wants the orb.

You hesitate, clutching it close to your breast. The light pulses once - soft, almost like a heartbeat matching your own. A wave of understanding washes over you: images of the ruin in its prime, the guardians standing watch - complete and features not yet worn away by the passage of time - the sphere resting in this very chamber, sealing something beneath it.

The voice returns. It's quieter this time, almost as if it's coming from within.

"The Keeper must choose - return what was taken, or carry it forward."

The ground trembles beneath your boots. Cracks spiderweb across the dais. The air grows hot and metallic, shimmering with power.

You stand in the center of the ruin, glowing sphere cradled in your hands, guardians watching you in expectant silence.

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