Nobody spoke as the old man turned toward the doors.

Cassian recovered first.

“You expect us to believe fairy tales?” he snapped, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. “An immortal guardian? Ancient protections? What’s next—a dragon beneath the city?”

The old man stopped walking.

Without turning around, he asked:

“Has no one told you why the bells ring at midnight?”

Several nobles visibly froze.

Cassian noticed too late.

His confidence faltered.

Outside the palace…

a bell began to toll.

Once.

Deep.

Heavy.

Ancient.

The sound rolled through the marble floor beneath their feet.

Then came the second bell.

The servants lowered their heads instantly.

Not out of ceremony.

Out of fear.

Cassian looked around sharply.

“What is this?”

An elderly steward near the far wall whispered hoarsely:

“They haven’t rung twice in decades…”

The third bell sounded.

And this time the candles dimmed.

Not flickered.

Dimmed.

As though something underneath the palace had inhaled.

A low vibration moved through the hall.

Goblets trembled.

Dust drifted from the ceiling beams.

Then—

far below them—

came the sound.

A knock.

Not against the palace gates.

Not against the banquet doors.

From beneath the floor.

One enormous impact echoed upward through stone older than memory.

BOOM.

A noblewoman screamed.

Cassian spun toward the old man.

“What did you do?”

Finally, the old man turned back.

And the expression in his eyes was worse than anger.

Recognition.

“They know I am leaving.”

Another impact shook the hall.

BOOM.

This time cracks raced briefly across several marble tiles before vanishing again.

The musicians fled first.

Then servants.

Panic spread with frightening speed.

The old man watched it all silently.

Cassian grabbed the edge of the table hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

“What is down there?”

The old man answered immediately.

“The reason your bloodline survived.”

The fourth bell rang.

And somewhere deep beneath the palace…

something massive began to wake up.