Chapter 7 The Journal Fragment

The orb pulsed again, brighter this time. The humming intensified, and the air felt charged, like just before a storm. My grandfather's initials on the journal-C.E.G.-glowed faintly through the crystal. It was real. He had stood in this chamber, seen what we were seeing.

We circled the orb carefully, unsure how to approach it. Samir scanned it with his handheld spectrometer. "Energy signature is off the charts," he said. "Not nuclear. Not magnetic. It's... something else."

"Can we get it out?" I asked.

He hesitated. "I don't know if we should."

Derek, always more action than theory, stepped forward and placed his hand near the crystal. The pulsing slowed.

"I think it's reacting to us," he said. "To you, Richard. Your bloodline."

I swallowed hard.

"Let me try," I said, stepping forward.

I didn't touch the orb. I didn't have to. As soon as I stood directly in front of it, the crystal surface rippled like liquid. The journal moved-rotated, shifted-until it faced me through the transparent shell. Then, slowly, the orb began to unravel.

Not shatter. Unfold.

Slivers of crystal peeled away like petals of a flower, revealing the book in its center. It floated gently downward, landing at my feet without a sound.

No alarms. No resistance.

Like it had been waiting.

I knelt and picked it up carefully. The leather was dry, but intact. My grandfather's handwriting filled the first page.

"June 6, 1947 – I have entered the chamber. The valley is not what I believed. It is older than civilization-older than memory. The entity watches but does not speak. It learns. It judges. I fear I have opened something that cannot be closed."

My breath caught.

"I thought he disappeared on a climbing accident," Will said quietly.

"He lied," I whispered. "To protect this. To protect us."

The next pages were filled with notes-maps, sketches of the chambers, glyphs that matched those we'd seen outside. Then something darker: drawings of figures, elongated and featureless, standing in rings around the orb.

And a warning.

"The gate is a cycle. Every seventy years it calls. If you're reading this, it's calling again."

Samir looked up sharply. "That's this year."

We stood in stunned silence. Then the orb behind us lit up once more-this time with a flickering image. A hologram of sorts, projected into the space above the platform. It showed the valley from above... then the stars... and finally, a rift opening between them. Something vast, alive, and coiled in shadow, looking back through the breach.

The gate.

Derek stepped away. "What the hell is this place?"

"A warning," I said, clutching the journal. "Or a test."

Will stared at the image. "So what happens if we don't stop it?"

Samir looked grim. "Then the cycle begins again."