The Last Vault of the Ancients

The Last Vault of the Ancients

Buried deep beneath the fractured crust of Flora Draconis, hidden amid the shifting ruins of a world undone, lies a singular remnant of the Pre Titan Age, a place whispered of in myths and feared by those who know too much. Known only as The Last Vault, it is the final echo of a hyper-advanced civilization whose name has been lost to time.

Once a species of unparalleled brilliance, the Ancients mastered antimatter energy, genetic manipulation, and even the secrets of immortality. Their ambition was to ascend beyond the stars. But ambition turned inward, and jealousy among nations ignited the slow burn of war. A burn that ended with the world aflame.

When the three suns aligned and the skies wept fire, the vault was sealed beneath layers of molten earth and oceanic collapse. Yet within, something impossibly alive endured.

At its heart lies the dragon-plant hybrid, the Ancients' most audacious creation, a being not born, but engineered to outlive its creators. Once intended to seed life on barren worlds, it now clings to the remnants of its broken birth world. Its serpentine roots thread through glowing bedrock, its petals shimmer with forbidden bioluminescence, and from its ever-blooming flowers are born the Floral Dragons. Strange, living echoes of what was and what could have been.

Surrounding the hybrid is a chamber untouched by the passage of time. Ancient metal walls pulse with dormant life. Screens flicker with alien scripts. Holograms loop endlessly, displaying schematics for technologies no living being can decipher. The air hums with quiet power, and strange rhythms echo like distant heartbeats, perhaps the pulse of the vault itself, or of the entity dreaming within.

Though believed myth by most, artifacts occasionally surface: crystal tablets that react to thought, inert devices that radiate warmth in the cold, fragments of coded language etched into alloys that never rust. Scholars dismiss them, mystics worship them, and scavengers die for them. But none truly understand.

Legends tell of a place untouched by the great Cataclysm, and many believe this is it. A sanctum where time and death were defied, and where the last dream of a dead world still waits.

Waiting... perhaps for someone who remembers.
Or someone who dares to awaken it.