Sector 7 was a stone-built monument to the Sovereign Chimera Order’s blasphemous vanity.
Known as The Drowned Reliquary, the chamber was a huge arched nave spanning a quarter of a half-mile in length. Carved from stone-hard coral limestone and deep-sea dark rock, the hall was flooded with a foot of dark, freezing seawater that lapped rhythmically against the bases of towering pillars made from the stone-hard rib bones of ancient deep-sea monsters.
Mounted upon black glass stone stands lining the nave were hundreds of polished glass reliquaries, each containing a preserved organ harvested from divine beasts slain over the past century. Beating hearts the size of compact cars, coiled venom sacs humming with purple lightning. Then he cut draconic horns that radiated unending frost.
Arthur walked slowly down the central aisle, his boots sunk in six inches of icy water. Through his type-list monocle, he read the handwritten brass plaques mounted beneath each jar:
Vanguard Expedition 44 (Year 22) - Heart of the Frost-Gorgon. Rift Zone 3 Harvest (Year 58) - Left Eye of the Abyssal Behemoth. Black Trench Ambush (Year 102) - Gallbladder of the Starry Storm-Serpent.
“This isn’t a research work-yard,” Valerie said. Her rifle barrel shook with cold fury as she read the dates. “This is a trophy room for a century of poaching. Every time an ancient beast stirred in the rifts, Osric sent kill-teams to butcher it for spare parts.”
