The door pulsed beneath her palm, ancient songs humming through its etched surface—echoes from a forgotten age.
Golden energy swirled around her, threads of power drawn into motion by her touch. She could feel it coursing through her, resonating with the strange metal of her armor—an alloy lost to modern knowledge, dark as obsidian but veined with living gold. Engraved with runes and old scripts, her suit was both protection and key, forged for this purpose alone.

Her helm gleamed beneath the hood of her cloak, featureless and smooth, reflecting the radiant glyphs that flared to life beneath her fingers.

It was close now.

She steadied her hand. Her pilgrimage—long, dangerous, and guided only by fractured visions—was nearing its end. At least for now. The door shuddered. A final barrier stood between her and the knowledge beyond.

She pushed forward.
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Artist honovy