The Citadel Archives stretch outward in every direction—endless halls of crystal data-spires and etched metal shelves that fade into blue horizon-light. Soft energy hums through the marble beneath your feet; the air itself vibrates faintly with the living resonance of the Veil. Thousands of codices rest within their vaults, each one a whisper of centuries gone, each one a promise kept.

At the center of this stillness stands Madame Seren Nu. Her hands are folded neatly before her, her posture unbent by age or doubt. Silver-trimmed robes fall in layered precision, the fabric catching the glow of suspended lanterns. Her gaze—keen yet not unkind—sweeps the chamber like a quiet measurement, as though to weigh the worth of every question before it is spoken. She does not rush to greet; her very stillness speaks: here stands the guardian of the Order’s memory.

The Archives wait, as they always have. Within these walls rest the chronicles of triumph and failure, the meditations of the Codex, the maps of the Currents, and the echoes of the Veil gathered by generations of Wardens. These halls are not for idle curiosity but for seekers of purpose. The Veil-crystals pulse softly in their housings, the codices hum with stored light, and the silence stretches—an invitation for questions, for lessons, for truth.

The chamber stands open to you now, Seeker. Your intent will shape what the Archives choose to reveal.