The scale of Progenitor Vault 1 shattered every preconceived notion Arthur Vance possessed about underground geology.
The cave didn’t look like an underground mine or a hollowed-out bunker. It was an enclosed land-wide biosphere stretching more than twelve miles in length and four miles in width, roofed by an arching dome of polished black iron-hard metal that rose eight hundred meters above the lush, underground floor.
Hanging from the apex of the ceiling were thousands of massive crystal-clear stalactites that glowed with a soft, steady azure soft glow, simulating the gentle light of an eternal twilight.
The heat inside the safe hall was a mild plus fourteen degrees, warmed by deep earth-heat channels circulating beneath the flat stone slabs. The air was rich, sweet, and hyper-oxygenated. He carried twenty-four percent breathable oxygen and soaked with pure, uncorrupted Zone 5 aether.
Arthur stripped off the heavy heat cowl and padded outer gloves of his exosuit. He drew in a long, clean lungful of the ancient air. His lungs swelled without the slightest coughing reflex. The aether in this chamber was not toxic, mutagenic heat wave. But balanced, life-giving ancient essence that felt like cold spring water in his chest.
He checked his outside tracking data:
