With everyone assigned to their accommodations for the night, we began to make our way through the grand halls of the packhouse. The soft glow of the moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting shadows that danced along the walls as we walked. I led the group up a grand staircase, the polished wood gleaming beneath our feet as we ascended to the hidden elevator on the second floor.
"This way," I said, gesturing for everyone to follow as we reached the top of the stairs.
We walked down a long corridor adorned with intricate tapestries and portraits of my ancestors, their faces gazing down at us with a sense of watchful pride. At the end of the hallway, I stopped in front of a set of ornate double doors. I place my palm on the security pad, the doors open and reveal the entrance to
