The three of them stood before the heavy steel door, its surface streaked with rust and grime. Thick iron chains wound across it like veins, pulled taut and locked together with bolts so old they seemed to fuse with the metal. A single symbol was painted across its center—the spiral mark they'd seen before, only this time it looked rougher, almost clawed into the surface as if by a desperate hand rather than a brush.
The silence was suffocating. The tunnel behind them lay quiet, as though the air itself had stilled to hear what decision Lin would make.
Keller shifted uneasily, his weight pressed against the wall to ease the bleeding wound at his side. "We're not opening that," he said flatly, his voice cracking slightly. "Whatever's inside… Jin wanted it chained up for a reason."
Min-joon swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the door and Lin. "What if it's bait? He leaves us here, hesitating, wasting time until his men close in. That's exactly the kind of trick he'd play."
