The rectangular box mounted to the wall was now fully open, revealing something Alaric hadn't expected at all. It wasn't a stack of documents, nor a cache of jade, and certainly not the usual firearms like pistols or rifles he often found in smuggling cases.

Inside, there was just one object.

Its shape was strange. Resembling a pentagon, with edges so precisely carved it looked like a miniature shield, small enough to be held with both hands. The surface was a dark gray, reflecting a faint glint from the room's overhead light. It was made of an ancient, solid metal, cold and unyielding. Every engraved line spoke of craftsmanship beyond ordinary skill, the work of artisans who understood not only how to shape metal, but also the hidden purpose behind the form.

Alaric stepped closer, lowering the jade box he had been carrying so both hands were free. His fingers traced the grooves etched into the weapon's surface. It didn't take long for him to notice something... among the circular engravings that almost formed a mandala-like pattern, there was a slight protrusion. Smooth, barely visible, but unmistakably there. It wasn't just ornamental. It was a hidden button.

He swallowed hard, hesitating. "If this really is a weapon, why go to such lengths to disguise it?" he whispered to himself.

His eyes shifted to the inside of the safe's lid. Carved into the metal, he saw a short phrase in ancient Latin. He had to lean in to make out the words clearly.

"Arma occultum… praeparatum ad ultimam defensionem."

He read it aloud slowly, then tried to piece the meaning together using the knowledge he'd gathered over the years. "A hidden weapon… prepared for the final defense."

The phrase sent a chill down his spine.

"So it's true… this isn't just some artifact. They hid it here on purpose, waiting for the right time. This could be a relic… or something only to be used when there's no other option left."

Alaric frowned, his mind running through countless possibilities. He imagined the weapon functioning like a mine. Small, scattered, deadly, and almost impossible to detect. But the object in front of him seemed too simple for a mine. There were no wires, no visible circuitry, not even a chamber for explosives. And that was exactly what made it even more baffling.

"Why would they choose something this small… instead of a specialized mine with a clear function?" he muttered internally.

He stared at the object, as if waiting for it to reveal its secrets. Curiosity warred with survival instinct, which now screamed at him to stop lingering. Time was ticking, and the sound of footsteps outside still hinted at danger.

Shaking his head sharply, he tried to dispel the growing cloud of confusion. "No, I can't stay here any longer. If they come in now, I'm done."

He carefully closed the safe again, making sure the mechanism didn't make too much noise. The small, shield-shaped weapon was slipped into the inside of his long coat, hidden in a place where it wouldn't be seen. He picked up the jade box again, even though the extra weight in his hands now made it harder to carry.

He glanced around, making sure nothing was left out of place, no clear sign that the room had just been rummaged through. Everything needed to look untouched.

The silence made his heart pound harder. He strained his ears, trying to catch any sound of movement outside. The footsteps were softer now, but someone was definitely still nearby.

"Move slowly… don't get caught."

Alaric crept toward the door, crouching low, holding his breath every time he passed a part of the room that might echo. Every movement was deliberate, as if even the slightest noise could set off an alarm and lead him straight to his death.

But then, he froze. Every one of his senses shut down for a second, seized by the tension just beyond the door. His hands were slick with cold sweat, though warm beads trickled from his brow. The jade box felt like it had fused to his palms. He held his breath as deeply as he could, not daring to exhale quickly. His body trembled, his ribcage suddenly feeling like a prison.

The voices—two of them—spoke just beyond the door. Short phrases, but they struck his chest like a hammer blow.

"What are you doing here? Have you checked all the rooms? I picked up a suspicious anomaly in the system security feed."

The words echoed in his ears. Safety was no longer an option. They knew, or at least suspected... something.

Alaric's hand, which had just begun to push the door open slightly, froze in place. His face tensed, his eyes darted left and right, desperately searching for any crack of space to escape through. But the room offered him no mercy. Only one option remained: he had to become a shadow.

Then came another voice, louder and closer. One of the guards outside. Heavy and firm.

"This is the only room I haven't checked yet."

Alaric almost jumped. The doorknob shifted slightly, a sign the guard was gripping it. If the door opened now, Alaric standing just behind it, would be exposed instantly.

He shut his eyes, held his breath, forcing his body to become still as stone. Every muscle in his body screamed from the tension. One deep breath in the wrong moment could betray everything.

"Don't move… don't make a sound… let time do the work," he whispered to himself, barely audible.

But then, as if fate hadn't yet given up on him, a voice called out from the distance.

"Bryan, the Master is asking for you in the main hall."

The words sliced through the silence, shifting the tension elsewhere. Alaric opened his eyes, trying to read the situation outside.

Bryan, the man about to enter, paused. He turned, the faint creak of the doorknob releasing sounded like thunder to Alaric's ears.

Their footsteps echoed in the corridor. Bryan was walking away, but not before making one last remark.

"But there's one room I haven't checked. Room Eleven."

Alaric felt the blood drain from his face. Room Eleven. That was this room.

The other guard, the one called "Rud," replied briskly.

"Then I'll check it. You go."

Alaric froze again. He pressed his back against the wall, forcing himself not to collapse. His shoulders stiffened as he heard Bryan's steps grow fainter, until they eventually vanished down the corridor.

But this wasn't good news. Far from it. Because now, only one person remained outside. And he was coming in.

The sound of Rud's boots grew louder with each step. He walked like a commander, bold and unafraid, as though leading troops into battle. Alaric's heart pounded wildly. The jade box in his hand nearly slipped.

"Damn it… only seconds left. If he comes in now… I won't have time to hide. I need to do something… or I'm going to be caught right here."

Sweat poured down his face, dripping from his chin. His grip tightened around the box, while his eyes locked on the door that was about to open.

He held his breath again, lungs rebelling against him. The world seemed to pause. He was trapped.

The tall barrier that stood beside the door creaked slightly as it opened. The hinges sounded like a blade being drawn. His blood raced, sweat traced icy lines down his temples. He pressed himself tightly to the wall, trying to merge with the cold stone behind him. But no matter how close he got, there was always a risk—a sliver of shadow, a patch of reflection, anything that could give him away.

The man entered. Not Bryan, but the one called earlier. His sharp eyes scanned the room with the precision of someone trained for exactly this. Alaric didn't breathe. Even his chest was locked, refusing to rise and fall.

The room remained silent. No movement. No sign of another presence. Not even a buzzing fly or wandering insect.

But Alaric knew better. These people weren't careless. They were trained to spot traps, to expect betrayal. Sometimes, silence itself was suspicious.

The guard stood at the threshold longer than expected. His gaze combed every inch of the room from the tables, some covered with files, to the ornate decorations on the walls. Absentmindedly, his hand pushed the door wider.

The slight creak nearly made Alaric flinch.

"God… he's opening it wider. If he takes one more step forward, he'll see me. How long is he going to stand there? If he doesn't leave… what chance do I have?"

Alaric's mind spun, but his body remained frozen.

Finally, the man moved, his footsteps syncing with the erratic beats of Alaric's heart. From where he stood, Alaric could hear every step echo on the floor.

The man walked deeper into the room, his attention now drawn to a series of paintings lining the wall. Portraits filled with secrets, their eyes staring with hollow gazes. He stopped at one of the larger paintings, studying it intently, like someone trying to recall a distant memory.

Alaric could barely believe his luck. The guard was distracted. Too distracted to notice the subtle changes. The items that had been shifted, the now-empty box, or the faintest trace of a figure that might flicker against the wall.