The tunnel narrowed as they descended deeper, the air turning thick and cloying. At first, it smelled like mildew and rust, the natural rot of abandoned infrastructure. But the farther they went, the sharper the scent became—a metallic tang, mingled with the sourness of blood long since spilled.
Lin walked at the front, his steps measured, his chains twitching against the walls like feelers. He said nothing, but every breath came slower, more deliberate. The abyss's whispers hadn't stopped since they entered, and now they grew louder, pressing against the edges of his mind.
Behind him, Keller kept his rifle raised. Sweat trickled down his temple, but his stance was steady, trained soldier that he was. Min-joon clung to the straps of his pack, his eyes darting nervously at every ripple of shadow. Hwan brought up the rear, though he moved with unsettling confidence, his crimson eyes faintly glowing in the dark.
