The underground metro of Bloofort smelled of rust and damp stone. Neon signs hung like dead fireflies, their light flickering over cracked tiles and puddles. In a small, forgotten station, an elderly woman walked slowly toward a blank stretch of wall. Her steps were careful but steady; despite her age, there was purpose in the way she moved.
She reached the wall and pressed her palm against the cold concrete. For a heartbeat nothing happened. Then she lifted her other hand and whispered a single word in a language that tasted like old iron. Her fingers traced a sigil in the air. A faint glow answered — a mana signature, soft and precise. The wall sighed and split open like a door breathing out.
A voice echoed from within the darkness. "Welcome, Sofiya."
