CHAPTER 7: THE BONES OF A SANCTUARY

The faint thrum of Ki grew stronger as Sun pressed deeper into the subterranean labyrinth. It was like a lifeline in the suffocating darkness, a beacon guiding his weary steps. The air grew cooler, and the oppressive silence was occasionally broken by the drip of water or the skittering of unseen cave dwellers. He ignored them; his focus was solely on that nascent pulse of energy.

After what felt like an eternity of blind stumbling, a faint, almost ethereal glow began to permeate the darkness ahead. It was weak, a mere suggestion of light, but after the absolute blackness, it was as brilliant as a supernova. His pace quickened, a desperate urgency propelling him forward.

He rounded a tight bend in the passage, and the tunnel opened into a vast cavern. The source of the glow became apparent: faintly luminescent moss clinging to sections of worked stone. And it was worked stone. Huge, cyclopean blocks, carved with intricate, though heavily eroded, patterns, formed walls, archways, and what looked like the shattered remnants of pillars.

This was no natural cave. This was a structure. Ancient, ruined, and half-swallowed by the earth, but a structure nonetheless.

"Jackpot…" Sun breathed, a wide, almost manic grin splitting his grimy face. "Hahahaha! Finally! After all that celestial-grade bullshit, a sliver of decent luck!"

The sight, even in its dilapidated state, invigorated him. The tiredness that had clung to him like a shroud seemed to recede. He could feel it – this place was a natural convergence point for Ki, however weak. The very stones seemed to hum with a forgotten power. This was where he could begin. This was where he could cultivate.

Almost forgetting his exhaustion and the myriad aches that still plagued him, Sun practically bounded towards the nearest recognizable feature – a massive, crumbling archway that must have once been a grand entrance. He passed beneath it, stepping into what seemed to be a central chamber. Dust lay thick as a shroud over everything, and the air was heavy with the scent of ages past, of stone, and decay.

"Here," he declared to the silent ruins, his voice echoing in the vast space. "Here I will recover. Here I will gather my strength. And then," a predatory gleam entered his eyes, "I will find that one-eyed bastard of an animal that dared to take my arm, and I will personally dismantle it, scale by bloody scale!"

His immediate priority, however, wasn't vengeance. It was power. And, more specifically, the catalyst he believed would be here. He began to search, his eyes scanning the debris, the fallen stones, the shadowy alcoves, looking for it. The object. The core. The reason this place had called to him.