The Sandstone Temples of Floor 16 rose from the desert like ancient sentinels, their amber-hued architecture both beautiful and imposing. Unlike the simple honeycomb structures of Floor 15, these buildings bore intricate hieroglyphics and complex light-refracting patterns that seemed to shift with the movement of the sun.

  Lyra paused at the entrance to the rgest temple complex, her gaze fixed on the crystalline prism at its apex. Something about the mathematical precision of its angles triggered a familiarity she couldn't pce.

  "This design resembles old Terminus tech," she murmured, adjusting her heat-resistant gear. "Pre-corporate era, if the historical archives I accessed are accurate."

  Alexander nodded, squinting against the harsh light. "According to my library resources, these temples contain some of the oldest technology in the Game."

  Valeria scoffed quietly. "VitaCore's records indicate most of these structures are purely decorative. Nothing of value for our advancement."

  The team had spent the morning exploring the temple grounds, mapping out safe paths and identifying potential resource caches. The heat was less oppressive than in the open desert, but the temples presented their own challenges—shifting light patterns that could temporarily blind the unwary, and puzzles that required precise crystal alignment to proceed.

  "Riva, any readings on those light beams?" Alexander asked as they navigated a particurly complex hallway.

  Riva consulted her scanning device. "They seem to be carrying data along with light. Fascinating engineering, actually. Much more sophisticated than standard Game architecture."

  As they ventured deeper into the main temple, the corridors opened into a vast circur chamber. Sunlight streamed through strategically pced openings in the ceiling, creating beams that intersected at specific points on the floor. At the center stood a solitary figure bent over an ancient workbench, surrounded by various crystals, vials, and what appeared to be alchemical equipment.

  "Careful," Alexander whispered, hand instinctively moving to his weapon. "We don't know if they're hostile."

  The figure straightened at the sound, turning slowly to reveal an elderly man with skin the color of polished copper. His eyes, however, were what caught Lyra's attention—they shimmered with an inner light that seemed to shift between amber and gold, remarkably simir to her own unusual eye color.

  "At st," the old man said, his voice surprisingly strong. "I was beginning to think you might never arrive."

  Alexander stepped forward protectively. "You were expecting us?"

  "Not you specifically," the man replied, gesturing toward Lyra. "But one with your neural signature was mentioned in the temple records."

  Lyra felt a chill despite the chamber's warmth. "My neural signature? What do you mean?"

  The alchemist—for that's clearly what he was, judging by his workspace—approached her with careful steps. He carried a small crystal that pulsed with soft golden light.

  "May I?" he asked, holding the crystal near her temple.

  "I wouldn't let him near your neural interface," Valeria warned, her hand moving to her weapon. "This could be a trap."

  Lyra hesitated, then made her decision. "It's all right. I want to understand."

  When she nodded, the alchemist brought the crystal near her neural interface access point. It fred with brilliant light. The alchemist smiled with satisfaction.

  "Remarkable," he said. "Your neural patterns are extraordinarily receptive to alchemical resonance."

  Elijah tensed visibly. "How could you possibly know about neural patterns? You're part of the Game."

  The alchemist ughed softly. "Young man, the boundaries between 'game' and 'reality' are far more permeable than you've been led to believe." He turned back to Lyra. "I am Artem, keeper of the temple's alchemical knowledge. And you have a rare aptitude for the work I do here."

  Lyra's mind raced. This matched with her experiences at the ancient terminal on Floor 13, where she'd discovered unusual access capabilities.

  "What exactly do you know about me?" she asked cautiously.

  Artem gestured to his workbench. "Less than I'd like, but more than most. I've spent decades studying the intersection of alchemy and neural technology. Your interface patterns show remarkable compatibility with advanced formutions."

  He paused, studying her reaction. "I could teach you. Ancient formus that complement your unique neural architecture. Knowledge that could prove... valuable for your journey ahead."

  "What would you want in exchange?" Alexander asked suspiciously.

  "Technical assistance," Artem replied, pointing to an eborate apparatus in the corner. "My equipment for synthesizing higher alchemical compounds requires expertise I ck. I believe she could provide it."

  Lyra approached the device, running her fingers over its components. It was a sophisticated blend of ancient design and advanced technology—something she would have been fascinated to explore under different circumstances.

  "How long would this exchange take?" she asked.

  "Three days, perhaps four," Artem said. "But the knowledge you'd gain would be worth months of conventional study."

  Alexander frowned. "We can't afford to lose that much time."

  "We wouldn't be losing it," Lyra countered, already analyzing the apparatus. "This knowledge could give us a significant advantage. The alchemical formus he's describing could be exactly what we need for the challenges ahead."

  Elijah had been unusually quiet, his gaze distant. Lyra had noticed this happening more frequently tely—moments when he seemed to be listening to something no one else could hear.

  "Elijah?" Alexander prompted, noticing his brother's distraction. "What do you think?"

  Elijah blinked, returning to the present. "I... I'm not sure. There's something about this pce that feels..." He trailed off, unable to articute his impression.

  Alexander stepped closer, lowering his voice. "What's wrong? You've been doing this more often tely."

  A moment of tension passed between the brothers. Lyra could sense a threshold being crossed—a secret about to be revealed.

  Elijah sighed, casting a gnce at Artem, who had discreetly moved back to his workbench. "I hear them, Alexander. Whispers. Voices from somewhere... else."

  "Voices?" Alexander's expression shifted from concern to arm. "Since when?"

  "Since the Green Realm," Elijah admitted. "At first, it was just background noise. But it's getting clearer. Especially in pces like this, where the walls between..." He gestured vaguely.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Alexander asked, his voice a mixture of hurt and concern.

  "Because I didn't understand it myself," Elijah replied. "I still don't. But I think it's connected to the preservation system—to what happens after pyers die."

  Riva, who had moved closer to inspect the alchemical apparatus, looked up with interest. "That could expin some of the anomalous readings I've been getting from your neural interface during our meditation sessions."

  Valeria's eyes narrowed at this exchange, her hand subtly adjusting the recording device at her wrist—a motion not lost on Lyra, who had been watching the corporate representative with increasing suspicion.

  Lyra turned back to Artem, who was pretending not to listen. "These formus you mentioned—do they include anything reted to consciousness manipution or neural stabilization?"

  The alchemist's eyes widened slightly. "Indeed. That's one of the primary applications of higher alchemy within the Game's architecture."

  Lyra made mental calcutions. The knowledge could be invaluable, especially given Elijah's emerging abilities. But staying behind while the team continued would be a significant risk.

  "I need to think about this," she said finally. "We should discuss it as a team."

  Artem nodded. "Of course. The opportunity remains open. But I must warn you—there are others who seek this knowledge for less noble purposes. Corporate enforcers have been more active in this area recently."

  Alexander's expression darkened at the mention of enforcers. "We'll need to make a decision by morning," he said to Lyra. "I don't want to rush you, but we can't remain exposed in one location for too long."

  As they moved to a more private corner of the temple to discuss, Lyra accessed her personal library through her neural interface. Unlike her teammates, who tended to materialize physical texts, she preferred direct neural access—it was faster and left no evidence of her research interests.

  She quickly located references to ancient alchemy in the Game's historical archives. Most of the detailed information was heavily redacted—a clear sign that the knowledge was considered sensitive by the Game's administrators. But between the fragments and her own technical intuition, she could see the potential value in what Artem was offering.

  The team established a temporary camp in a small antechamber, their equipment arranged in the familiar pattern they'd developed over months of travel together. Riva began setting up monitoring equipment around the perimeter while Valeria maintained a suspicious distance from both Artem and Lyra.

  As Alexander took first watch and Elijah settled down with a materialized text on consciousness theory, Lyra found herself weighing priorities that would have been unthinkable when she first entered the Game.

  Back then, her sole focus had been survival and uncovering the truth. Now, she was considering temporarily separating from the only people she'd come to trust, for knowledge that might benefit them all. The shift from self-preservation to group consideration felt significant—a marker of how far she'd come from the solitary survivor of Sector 17.

  The decision wouldn't be easy. She had technical skills the team relied on, and Alexander's protectiveness had only increased since their battle with the Dune Titan. Yet the potential knowledge offered by Artem could be precisely what they needed to navigate the increasingly complex challenges ahead—especially with Elijah's mysterious connection to the whispers developing further.

  Lyra closed her eyes, weighing options and calcuting risks as the amber light of the temple slowly shifted with the passing hours. By morning, she would need to choose between temporary separation for specialized knowledge or continuing together as they had since forming their unlikely alliance.