Nine, finally.

I sat in eight so long it stopped being a number. It was a room I lived in. Same four walls, same hum. Then tonight, mid-pull, the small click, and I was out.

Eleven isn't a rumor anymore. It's two levels up. I can almost hear the vault terminals from here, the ones almost nobody in this city reaches.

Three hundred and nine decks. Three hundred and thirty-one relics. Every one of them from terminals anybody can crack.

Two doors to go. I know how to do this now.

I climb.