The grand tiered arena of Entry hall 448 was sunk in a deep, solemn hush that felt as old as the seabed itself.
Carved directly from the living dark rock beneath the Clepsydra Tower, the circular arena sloped downward in twelve nested tiers of dark green chlorite seating, every step swept clean of thirty hundred years of deep-sea silt. At the lowest point of the bowl, resting upon a circular stone floor of polished white Carrara marble fifty paces across, stood the Projection Altar. It rose three arm-lengths above the floor, a single fluted metal tube of semi-clear Parian stone veined with pale violet quartz, its upper surface hollowed into a shallow silver-lined basin.
Qiao Ming walked down the outward steps of the tiered arena with measured, silent strides. His bare, calloused feet felt the cool grain of the chlorite underfoot, wet with the fine mist of condensed spring water that drifted downward from the small roof-dome above.
In his hands, held with both arms against his chest as an acolyte might hold a flawless offering vessel, rested the assembled projection unit. The Folded brass star-compass served as the chassis, its nested compass bearing and height rings locked into position by three hardened bronze set-screws. In the center of the brass armature, clamped between lead-cushioned jaws, was the six-sided metal tube of star-fallen quartz recovered from the skull cavity of the fallen Alpha Hound.
