The vale was bathed in the soft, argentine light ofpre-dawn, the mist entwining through jagged modes and fractured terrain like living tendrils, bruiting of secrets long held and troubles yet unseen. Maya squinched near a tertiary knot, the tablet pressed tightly against her casket, sanguine gleam pulsing in quiet harmony with the faint temblors running beneath the ground. Indeed dormant, the structure’s intelligence was patient,
