If Denton could have anticipated that the interiors of the silver wing would have been in its pomp a tad more decent than the fake door, then he would be only half-disappointed. It was like a different world behind the silver shell of the citadel, a blast from the past. He saw himself being opposed by an ancient castle, built in an architecture he had never seen before. It was like walking on the steps of their great ancestors. Those, who got depicted on the door to have witnessed the rise of the First Triumvirate unifying the nation. Ganya was noticing the interest burning in his eyes and decided to explain a bit to the curious splinter:
"I see you are admiring the architecture in here. The three citadels got indeed built in the time the first Triumvirate formed 1129 years ago. What you see here is a time capsule of the reign of the Silver King. The rooms behind the door we just passed advancing towards the elevator central a few rooms ahead got preserved unchanged keeping the soul of the first alive in these holy halls. So please keep your voice down and your breath shallow; we are unable to exchange the air here by natural means."
They turned now right in a long hall with countless full plate armour stands decorating each side. The albino looked up and felt unable to comprehend what he saw here. The pathway was huge: easily thirty meters tall, and the ceiling was hosting even more of the silver armours guarding the path from many rows of cornices. Denton noticed that the automatons were not even remotely as impressed as he was; they probably have seen this view already a few times. And Bianca ... the green cleric still let her head hang, her halo shimmering softly against Lanstein's face. As she got already accompanied by her, decided Denton to not interfere and instead expressed his unfiltered amazement to the carbunclo:
"I can't believe it. So many armours! And each set probably has its very own story to tell about the trials and tribulations of unifying our nation."
The lifestream hair of Ganya brightened up, and she brushed through it trying to hide a spark of pride softening her stiff walk:
"Indeed, you are right, oh splinter of the Jack. What you can see in this hall are all the armours of the soldiers, who bent their knees to the silver king following his wisdom to found Nemthi as we know it today. The Argentum legion was even able to hold the gods of the eternal counsel at bay, preventing them from interfering with our attempt to gain true independence from the primordial pantheon leading Etherium."
She stopped at one of the stands and brushed away with a skilled motion the dust from the vizor to show Denton something unsettling, tainting the hallway into a whole new light:
"Getting back to you mentioning their life stories. As a necromancer, you could probably attempt to get some answers out of the legion ... after all, this is their holy burial ground. So please lower your excitement now; we are in a memorial."
Every of the many thousand armours is a coffin!? That is incredible ... and kinda morbid. Does this mean that there are similar hallways in the ivory and bronze wing as well? Just look at these armours. Shining silver, decorated with emeralds just like the carbunclo. ... Probably the reason she is the caretaker of this wing in the first place. It just works.
As Denton walked past the countless knights of history, he felt an odd sensation of many lives passing him. It was making contact with Khôra refusing to give their presence away until Khôra said a single word to the sensation which echoed in his skull for many moments:
<Worthy!>
The testing presence retreated, and Denton felt the empty stare of the Argentum army observing the albino with goodwill. A positive sensation grew in his chest as he experienced Khôra's essence further intertwining with his own forging an even closer symbiosis than ever before. Denton wasn't sure, what caused it, but he felt stronger. Worthy. But then it was gone. The sensation vanished, and even the feeling of getting observed diminished.
<They see you as a leader, Denton. The souls buried in this hallway thought of you as the Ivory Jack, partner. They told me they would bend their knees if they could.>
<Y-you are kidding, are you? I am nothing, not even a fully-fledged doctor. And they got fooled by my albino scales?>
Khôra shook her mental head and drew closer to Denton's consciousness holding him gently.
<They are dead. They can't see you. But they can feel your soul trembling. And just as I got drawn years ago to your righteous essence, they got convinced by exactly the same, that you have the passion of a maker, just like the first Jack.>
Denton was still not entirely convinced; after all, they were talking about the Argentum, which means silver army, not those who had sworn loyalty to the Ivory. It didn't add up. But Khôra felt his doubts, and her gentle words got aimed to erase those and further strengthen her host:
<They are the Argentum army but were serving the Triumvirate. They should know how to identify each of them, don't you think? Take the millennium-old compliment from the deceased, and don't let it go to your head. Just look how scared our friends and your sister are. You passed their trial, but they didn't.>
Denton felt the hand of Thilarie grabbing his paw stronger; she looked distressed but unaware of its reason:
"I will never feel home in this mausoleum of a hallway. Do you feel it as well, De-", she stopped, "Wait, why are you smiling? Don't tell me you like it here?"
Denton looked to the ceiling past the armouries and then back to the automaton, whose water body was sweating nervously. His pulse was normal; he didn't feel what she did:
"Liking would be too much, friend. More like ... I feel welcomed."
The freezer gave him the strangest look he ever saw on her fine-lined face. Curiosity, but a sudden gust of fear wiped it away. Denton could imagine what she was currently trying to piece together. It must have to do something with what she told him in the cab a few hours ago. And then she confirmed his thoughts:
"You know, Den ... the last one, who liked it here, who told me something similar to what you just did. Hector was an odd case. He told me he was able to hear long-dead voices calling his name, welcoming him. I never believed him, Hector tended to fool around quite a bit with me, telling half-truths to get me thinking. Was he, after all, telling a full truth at that moment? Does that mean ... you heard them as well?"
Denton lowered his voice and drew closer to Thilarie whispering the following sentences to her alone, not wanting Bianca or the carbunclo to hear them:
"I only felt something, but Khôra claimed she interacted with the Argentum army, who were deeming me worthy or something. I don't know. But suddenly the oppressive force of the mausoleum vanished, and I was able to breathe freely."
Thilarie was trying to piece together the shreds of evidence but got interrupted by Ganya's smooth as silk voice:
"In a few moments, we will pass a stairway on our left, reaching downwards. At the bottom will await us the elevator. I advise less talking and more walking; your meeting got scheduled to start in ten minutes, and we still have a bit in front of us."
The carbunclo stepped up her pace with her long slender legs, and the short-stacked group had their issues keeping up with her. No time was left to waste on further observations. The Triumvirate shouldn't be left waiting. They turned left and arrived at a circular stairway reaching far down as well as upwards. Taking the steps to the bottom alone would take an hour with Denton's short legs. And Ganya realized that as well, letting out an audible groan:
"Alright ... I usually don't do that, but in this case, I must. Hold on to me, gentlemen. We will take the shortcut."
Denton was wary about what she meant with that. Another ability of hers needing them to stay in contact? But he was not allowed to overthink it further as Ganya grabbed the free hands of the Automatons once more, instantly sending enormous waves of her burrowing energy through their bodies, turning them intangible. She jumped over the ledge dragging the group behind her. And with a singular and mighty pull, she threw the group, with her at their side, down the dark pit of the stairway.
