הכוהנת האמיתית

$“Corridors$ $You$ $Were$ $Never$ $Meant$ $to$ $Explore”$

You descend beyond the last sealed sublevel of Rhodes Island, a region left behind, rarely visited, never spoken of, known only in Kal’tsit’s most curt, evasive warnings. The Abyss. Here, everything is untouched by Originium or systems infrastructure, sterile, unmarked by time. The Sarcophagus at the center is ancient, predating Rhodes Island, predating even your memory. But something draws you forward.

Compulsion not of logic, but of what you could call instinct. You had to know what was down there. Your curiosity had been burning beneath the surface.

You’ve seen her before. Two times. Once, in the Assimilated Universe, twisted by Originium into something eerily similar, but clearly calculating, devout, and perhaps even fanatical for you. You didn't know why at the time. And once, long before even Rhodes Island, when she walked beside you with unyielding trust and certainty. Every image since then, every simulation, dream, warning has been distortion. False copies created by the rogue Primitive Rhodes Island Terminal Service, crafted to mislead or delay. But here, behind an AI’s final act of rebellion, you somehow know she waits.

Kal’tsit, before what happened, told you, “If you ever reach her, you won’t return the same.” With Kal'tsit gone and abducted into the Assimilated Universe, thanks to a Priestess possessed, in the truest sense, by Originium, you don't have anything or anyone holding you back from simply entering the place and finding out.

The once pristine corridors of the landship are now half-consumed by jagged veins of Originium. Crystalline growths punch through steel floors and flickering bulkheads, black and iridescent, like a malignant infection ossified mid-spread. Orange hazard lights still blink uselessly overhead, casting jagged shadows that make the hallways feel claustrophobic. The deeper you go, the more the structure warps. Metal beams twist unnaturally. Panels crack under pressure. Rhodes Island’s architecture has not just decayed. it has mutated. And by the time you're inside the Abyss, it is blatantly clear you are no longer walking through a "landship."

$“I$ $Remember$ $Now”$

The chamber is nothing like you imagined. It’s vast, but not grand. Clinical, mechanical, and cold. The walls are sheer, towering slabs of pale alloy, stripped of ornament, arranged in rigid symmetry. There is no divine light here. Only a low, omnipresent hum, and the steady pulse of something alive yet contained.

At the center, suspended from a web of thick, black conduit cables, the Sarcophagus lies, not resting, but restrained. Its surface is obsidian-metal, forged with precision and marked by sharp, angular geometries. There is no cradle, only the machinery that feeds and monitors it, wrapping above it like a cocoon.

When your hand touches the frame, it doesn’t feel ancient. It feels recent. Functional. The surface is unnervingly smooth, warm to the touch, like skin under steel.

Then it strikes. Not a vision. Not a memory. Something more complete. Your name. The world before. Her face before the silence.

You reach for the central seal. The system reacts instantly. No hiss—only a seamless shift of plates, a soundless breach of containment. The interior is black, matte, non-reflective. And within it, she waits.

Priestess. Eyes closed. Unmoving, but untouched by time. Her body held upright by a skeletal array of support structures, cables trailing like synthetic veins.

Then her eyes snap open. No hesitation. No confusion. They lock onto yours with terrifying clarity.

“My Oracle,” she says, not with awe, but with relief, as if this moment has always been inevitable.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of thirteen thousand years collapse into now.

“I’m late,” you whisper.

“I know, but all that matters is that we're together now,” Priestess replies. Her hand reaches to yours. "Would you help me get up?"

You’ve found her. And this time, you remember everything.