Clara's green eyes widened, her cheerful demeanor faltering as she leaned over Kael's shoulder, her voice soft but urgent, trembling with a dread that seemed to seep from the flickering screens before them.
"Kael, what's happening?"
Kael's hazel eyes narrowed, his fingers a blur over the keyboard, each keystroke a defiant stand against the growing chaos.
His voice, though steady, carried an undercurrent of unease that prickled the air.
"Something's wrong. The tunnels… they're not right." He switched to the comms, his tone sharpening, cutting through the static like a blade.
"Rhea, Freya, stop moving. Describe what you see."
In the suffocating depths of the sewer, Freya's blue eyes scanned the shifting walls, the pavement cracking with a sound like brittle bones snapping.
The air was thick, heavy with the stench of decay and something far worse—an unnatural, pulsing malevolence.
