Ghost of the yesteryears

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Look, this thing looks so ancient it predates the Canticles themselves! I know you're thinking the same thing as me."

"Yeah, it might be a clue to the origin of the Calling, and it sure looks like it, but I don't know, don't you think the Resonance here is giving weird vibes.

"Come on Carter, stop going on about vibes and go. Unless you want to keep Leeree company, we all see how she's looking at you."

Grumbling an insult away, Lance Carter picks up his violin and follows his two companions. Crya Steron and Lucius Ambers may be competent navigator and archaeologist, but neither were as sensitive to the subtle resonance as him. Nevertheless, the violinist braced himself and entered the crumbling cave.

Most accounts of archeologists entering ancient monuments starts by "The place would have been beautiful, once". This was not the case here. The worn-out stair led to a sequence of small corridors devoid of any decoration except for the stalagmites that pierced through the roughly carved stone. Somehow, the jammed doors were made of a robust metal that could not be opened by any tools the explorers had at their disposal. The cold steel was unresponsive to anything they tried, even the Song of Flow of Lance.

Sometimes, one of the doors would be long breached open by a staggering force. While it oddly coincided with a caving in the path forward, Crya found it convenient enough to ignore the looming implications. A full scan found no trace of life, not even movement on the planet, whatever got there before them was either long gone, or long dead. The oppressive silence only broken by their weary footsteps seemed to agree, but Lance was not comforted.

At some point, they lost contact with the ship on the surface. They have been regularly sending Leeree updates on the way through radio, to which she cheerfully responded with a joke, or a comment on how bored she was. The last response was scrambled, and then nothing. They did not bring an expensive communicator imbued with the Song of Speech, and they were too deep inside for radio waves to get through, which did not help with Lance's worry.

Eventually, after what seemed hours, they emerged in a larger room. This one was more finely decorated than the rest, with a table forming a ring at the centre. Finely detailed chairs, covered in moss and devoid of their original paint were mostly toppled over, except for two which survived the assault of time. A pale blue light came from a structure above the table, like coming from a light well, even though it was impossible at these depths. Specks of dust were dancing in the spotlight, gently and undisturbed.

"A meeting room, perhaps?" The voice of Lucius shattered the eerie feeling of the room. "Given the chair, we know they were the same size as us and needed to sit. Does the design strike you as human?"

"Doesn't strike me at anything if I'm honest. It's too bland, could have been anything. If it wasn't for the zircon dating of the stairs, I could think this has been abandoned for less than ten years."

While Crya and Lucius argued on the table, Lance reported his attention to behind it. The room was circular, and though there was only a single entrance on their side of the room, a semicircle of twelve doors laid on the other, each radiating a unique resonance, different from the one he felt during the descent, even in this very room. Upon closer inspection, these doors were made of a different metal than the rest, an alloy untouched by time and worn. The only dent on their smooth surface was small engravings in a language unknown, that exuded the unique resonance he noticed earlier.

"Guys, you probably want to take a look over there!"

Each door was hermetically sealed in the wall, with none of their devices able to as much as take a peek at what they were hiding. Crya suggested that the engravings could be names, perhaps on graves of high-ranking persons. It made sense, then, for them to be guarded by their own song. Except it was a strange location for graves. The room they were in was made for the living, not the dead, and everything seemed to lack ceremony, even after all this time.

Lucius was thoroughly looking through all of them, using his wide array of probes to poke the metal, hoping that one of them was of lesser quality. Finally, he stopped before the eighth and called out to his companions.

"This is very strange, they all have no imperfection, but this one is not even sealed. It's like it has just been put in place and left alone, I can't explain it."

Lance stumbled. The odd resonance he was feeling, that was present in the path they have taken thus far, it was stronger than ever. Repulsive, it sounded like a twisted Song with impossible notes. But more than that, now that he was close he could feel it. This resonance didn't come from the engraving, which was silent, but from behind the door. He opened his mouth to voice his concerns when the door moved.

It was a small movement, unnoticeable if they weren't already focusing on the metal frame. Another followed, and another. The heavy door was slowly opening, and with it the resonance finally became audible. The sheer intensity threw everyone to their knees before Lance could take a hold of his instrument. He felt a warm liquid flowing out of his ears as the Song became so prominent that he wasn't perceiving it with his hearing anymore.

The last thought of Lance went to Leeree, who was still on the ship, unaware of the ancient horror they foolishly unleashed.