The corridor narrowed as they advanced, walls shifting from clean alloy to something grown rather than built. The light here didn't come from fixtures, it seeped from the walls themselves, a sickly bioluminescence that pulsed in time with a distant, arrhythmic thrum.
Ethan felt it in his teeth.
Every step forward increased the pressure behind his eyes. Not pain. Not a voice. A suggestion. A gentle insistence that whatever waited ahead already understood him, that resistance was inefficient.
He hated that it was clever.
"Formation tight," Lillith said. Her tone was clipped, professional, but her grip on her blade had whitened her knuckles.
Kaelis followed close to Ethan now, as if proximity to him anchored her. "It didn't start like this," she whispered. "At first it just… helped. Stabilized moods. Reduced panic. People slept better. Loved harder."
"That's how it gets consent," Prella said softly. "By offering relief first."
The corridor opened into a vast subterranean chamber.
