The tunnel seemed to descend endlessly into the bowels of the earth, its damp, rough walls brushing against their shoulders with each step.
The darkness was so thick it felt tangible, like a cold embrace seeking to slow them down, to discourage them from moving forward.
Rakahn advanced without hesitation, his blades ready to tear apart anything that dared stand in their way.
From time to time, a distant creak, the echo of dripping water, or the scurrying of some creature fleeing their approach broke the silence. But nothing threatening. Not yet.
Seth remained hyper-aware, scanning the shadows with almost painful intensity. He remembered this passage all too well — the stench of damp earth and lingering fear.
It was through here that he had escaped the day of their uprising, heart pounding as he recalled the snow falling in torrents, the cold biting at his skin, and how, wounded, he had been found and taken in by Siliva's group.
