The tunnel pulsed, breathing in the dark—low thuds rolling through the molded stone, every heartbeat of the underground veins vibrating faintly beneath their boots. The air was thick with faint smoke, iron, and something damp that reeked like rusted chains.Kaelen stood dead still, jaw locked, eyes hard, and posture steady—a man who didn’t blink unless he meant it. Across from him, she tilted her head, a sharp angle that carved her silhouette in the dim, burning eyes cutting through the gloom. “Wait…” she muttered, pausing. Then a sharp and deliberate scoff tore from her throat. Her head cocked, lips curling as she gave him a look of dripping venom and insult. “Did you just ask me to be quiet?”Kaelen’s expression didn’t flinch, didn’t crack. His voice came low, even, and edged. “What did it sound like to you?”That landed like a slap. She scoffed harder, this time a jagged laugh pushing out with it—not the funny kind, the dangerous kind. Her nostrils flared, her chin tilted high,

As Velira chuckled low and throaty, her words curled like smoke in the stale, poisoned air. "His childish, overconfident brimming is what just dropped him on the floor," she said, almost purring with happiness.Her eyes went to Kaelen, who was lying on the jagged stone floor, breathing hard and trying to hold on to dirt. "That's all his fault. I mean," she said with a lazy shrug and a smile, "he literally caught my sickle blade with his bare arms." She laughed even harder now, with her eyebrows raised and her shoulders up. "Who does that?" She rolled her eyes in a dramatic arc, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. She walked up to Kaelen without even looking at his limp body. Her boots crunched the sand and bone dust beneath them as she walked.The blue fire in the tunnel flickered weakly, and its glow, which had been protecting Kaelen and. the old man, kept on fading slowly. But when she got close to him, a shadow crossed her path—Sahrak. He moved, slowly but on purpose, until he w

Zhaedor turned his head to the side, and a small smile broke out at the corner of his mouth. "That man you really care about—""Lord," Kaelith cut him off, storming through the doors of the chamber. His boots hit the clay floor, which was decorated with molten metal, and the sound echoed off the cold, orange-etched walls. "It's time to go. He's right behind me."Zhaedor's smile didn't fade. Instead, he waved his left hand in a lazy, predatory way. As heat shimmered in the air around Elara, a low hum grew louder. Her shape faded into a deep, pulsing red, and her form melted away like smoke into the reddish light of the room. She was gone in the blink of an eye. She blended in so well that the space she had been standing in felt like it had swallowed her whole."We're ready to go, my lord." The voice was steady, calm, and deep. It was Draeven's voice, always the calmest one in the storm. He stepped aside, barely moving, to make room for the man who filled the air like a storm. Varohn.