The footsteps slowly came closer from the direction where the light source was. It was also the exit of this cave it seemed.
The footsteps were uneven in the specific way of someone carrying more weight in their body than their legs wanted to manage at this hour.
Ishiki let his eyes drop to half-closed and slowed his breathing. The adjustment happened before he consciously chose it — three years of surviving things by going very still had built it into reflex.
A man slowly surfaced, trying his best not to fall off the slick rock surface.
He was large and heavyset, wearing the rough-spun uniform of minor institutional authority. He was the kind of men, who worked at places that require less to no intelligence at all.
The torch in his right hand threw orange light across the cave walls in unsteady arcs as he walked. His left hand was empty. He had not brought a weapon specifically, which told Ishiki something about how dangerous he considered this assignment.
