Unlike Esone, John lacked the grace necessary for a swan dive or a crisp, clean landing. He left a small impact crater as he hit the bottom of the elevator shaft, anima banner shining like a gaudy golden floodlight. He and Esone took point, their close combat abilities most suited for the cramped conditions ahead. 042 brought up the rear due to its frame's sheer bulk, while the two doctors made up the center of the group. Their caution was unfounded, however. The area Cerberus had dug out was completely devoid of life. Nothing stirred, even on thermal sensors.<br/><br/>'Bau,' said John, 'are you getting any of this?'<br/><br/>'Yes, Commander,' the salarian said over the comm, his voice distorted slightly by the signal quality. 'Armor-cam is functional. I'm getting nothing on my sensors, either. You should be clear.'<br/><br/>The cave was massive, its natural features giving way to a colossal set of Prothean-designed steel doors. Prothean glyphs had been inscribed into the steel along the doorframe: 'For the Future', it read. The door itself had been carved intricately to depict the Celestial Incarnae, resplendent and shining, standing above a host of kneeling supplicants of various species. Cerberus mining equipment lined the cave edges. Some scorch marks marred the otherwise perfectly preserved doors, but they had done no lasting damage. It looked like Cerberus had failed to plumb the tomb's secrets.<br/><br/>'<span style="font-style: italic">Mellon</span>,' he said. No effect. Well, it was worth a try.<br/><br/>'I understood that reference,' Bau said.<br/><br/>Liara rubbed her chin pensively for a moment, then tapped five points on the door. John noticed that if one traced the dots, they formed the corners of a regular pentagon, equilateral and equiangular. The points glowed with a soft golden light, and the doors slowly turned inwards. What they found was a treasure trove of information and knowledge.<br/><br/>'By the Goddess,' Liara breathed. The Prothean tomb was a testament to a bygone age, its walls lined with murals and glyphs of days long past. Along the sides of the floor, water flowed inward in a steady, gentle trickle from some unseen source. Terracotta Prothean warriors stood at even intervals, clad in ceremonial armor and bearing mock-ups of dire lances. Before long, the entrance corridor terminated in a great hall whose walls continued upwards for a considerable distance. Mathematically, they tomb complex should have been visible above ground level just judging by interior appearances, but it seemed like the same impossible geometries employed by the Collector Station were at work here as well. A perfect circle, rimmed by an orichalcum ring, lay in the center of the great hall. The entrance corridor's streams terminated here, collecting in a shallow pool of crystal-clear water. Hovering above that was a single Prothean life pod, translucent and misted over. John tested the doors on the walls along the room's edges, only to find them all impossible to bypass. No electronic access panels or handles existed and the seams between door and wall were almost invisible. He dared not pursue his usual method of room entry for fear of compromising the tomb's effectiveness.<br/><br/>While John checked the great hall, Liara had set to work studying the casket's secrets. As she finished the unlocking process, a wave of energy threw her back. John rushed to her aid, only to be waved off.<br/><br/>'I'm fine!' she spluttered, coughing up a mouthful of water as the Prothean's sarcophagus slowly opened.<br/><br/>Out stepped a curiously familiar figure--brown, almost chitinous flesh, four yellow eyes, and segmented armor, two arms and two legs. The Prothean almost resembled a Collector. The only thing stopping John from raising a gun was the golden sunburst on the sleeper's forehead. Before John could react, the alien lunged forth and grabbed his head. A finger of cold pierced John's mind, studying and learning, copying and absorbing all he knew in a mere instant.<br/><br/>'Hu-man,' the Prothean said, his speech stilted and wrong, as if he knew the words but not the proper pronunciation. 'I am Javik. I am Dawn. I studied your memories. I know your language. I know you. I know all of you save one are Exalted.' He looked at 042. 'Even you, Soul-forged. Only an Exalt would so casually wear the skin of the Neverborn.'<br/><br/>'There is no time to be lost,' he continued. 'My Awareness Charms. I know the enemy comes still.' Javik outstretched his arms, wreathing them in Essence and biotic power. 'I have opened the way. Quickly, before the enemy comes, retrieve the contents of this place.'<br/><br/>Almost immediately, Bau's voice crackled on the comm. 'Commander, he's right. Orbital scans show Cerberus forces heading your way. Whatever you're there to do, do it quickly. I'm seeing anima displays--Abyssals from the looks of them.'<br/><br/>'Noted, Bau.' John looked at Liara. 'Doctor, any thoughts?'<br/><br/>'I need time to record all of the information here. I'll take whatever we can transport back to the Martian archives for analysis. What we can't bring, I'll tag for future return trips.'<br/><br/>'Noted. Prothea--er, Javik, what do we have down here that's useful? This is just a tomb, right?'<br/><br/>'A tomb?' Javik tilted his head quizzically. 'No, Zenith. This is an armory, a small cache of supplies for those who would fight the Neverborn and their servants. I was its guardian, and I have opened the way.'<br/><br/>John's jaw almost dropped. A Prothean armory. Gods only knew what sorts of crazy stuff was hidden underneath Eden Prime. 'Alright, ladies and gents, pick an artifact, any artifact from the pile. We'll sort out the good stuff later. Just find something useful, because we've got a shitstorm inbound.'<br/><br/>Without pausing for acknowledgement, John set off into one of the doors, which led to a room positively loaded with Prothean hypertech. And guns. Lots of guns. The Exaltation's memories rushed in once again, translating the ancient Prothean glyphs engraved on the weapons and scenery. On one rack, he saw a massive Jade rifle named 'Killer Queen'. He would send that one to Shepard. Off to the side, John saw a red-painted suit of starmetal armor mounted on a dais inscribed with the words, 'King Crimson'. Opposite that was a Soulsteel crown--'Black Emperor'. There, on the wall, sat a pair of plasma tongue repeaters, dubbed 'Sex Pistols'. The main attraction of the room, however, was a set of orichalcum power armor mounted in the center, unmarked with a name plate and equipped with a pair of power fists. Yep, he knew what he was getting. John reached out and, as if detecting his presence, the orichalcum resonated and rang like a church bell. As John's outstretched hand made contact, the armor disappeared into John's omni-tool. Strange, he thought. He didn't remember activating the omni-tool.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">The armor did so of its own accord,</span>Javik said telepathically.<span style="font-style: italic">The armor is now bonded to you, Zenith. You need only call it to don the glorious Solar plate.</span><br/><br/>'How do I do that?' he said aloud.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">You shall know the name of any artifact to which you are bonded. The name is ingrained into your mind as much as it is built into the armor's systems. You need only remember.</span><br/><br/>And John did. Memory was the key, as it always was. John raised his right arm, still sheathed in his omni-tool, and placed his hand upon the golden sun icon that appeared on the tool's display.<br/><br/>'<span style="font-style: italic">Gold Experience!</span>'<br/><br/>And in that moment, John no longer wore the mundane armor of a Systems Alliance Marine. Swathed in golden plate, he strode into the great hall, resplendent in the garb of a priest-king of the Unconquered Sun. On his breastplate, he bore a golden sunburst, bisected by an engraved spear and ringed by a laurel wreath. From John's waist hung a ceremonial horn, a symbol of one of the Unconquered Sun's virtues. Each hand wore a gauntlet that crackled with divine energy. In the back of his mind, John realized that they had once been a separate pair of artifacts--the Princes of the Universe--and lost their innate names after being spliced to this suit of armor. Every single fiber of his body felt energized and alive, moreso than they had ever been. He felt like he could take on the Reapers singlehandedly if he wanted to at the moment.<br/><br/>Javik nodded approvingly. 'It is a good fit, Zenith.' With a flick of his wrist, the Prothean called upon his own artifact armor and daiklave.<br/><br/>'Now come. I will require aid if I am to push these interlopers off<span style="font-style: italic">my</span>property.'