The Door That Hears Judgment
The Temple of Vesta has split around a door that did not exist yesterday. Pale marble rises from the floor in a perfect arch, its surface smooth as still water, while veins of black stone pulse beneath it like slow blood. Seven braziers burn around the chamber, their blue-white flames giving off the smell of hot copper and crushed rosemary. The black skeleton key drinks the firelight when lifted, leaving a patch of darkness that clings to its teeth. Three shallow signs mark the door, a drop, a key, and an open eye, and each trembles faintly whenever someone speaks near them.