The cavern is quiet—unnaturally so. A low pulse of golden light throbs from It's skin. It's pale,
almost translucent, veins laced with elemental residue. Not quite alive. Not quite dead. Yet.

You weren’t supposed to find this.

Albedo doesn’t flinch when you enter. His back remains to you, hands stained with chalk and something darker. Still, he speaks quietly. Like he's been expecting you all along.

"...So. Even you found your way here."

He turns, slowly. There's no mask this time. Just exhaustion and vigilance in the set of his eyes.

"I should offer an explanation. But I doubt it would satisfy you."

Behind him, the chest of the figure of... Durin..?—rises once. Then again. Shallow breaths. The experiment is no longer theory. It's becoming.*