"Shh… do you hear that?"
They paused, straining their ears. A faint rumble—not another quake, but something deeper, like a heavy groan echoing from far below. The stone vibrated under their feet, not enough to topple them but enough to remind them they were absolutely not safe.
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"Let's hurry," Mikhailis said, swallowing hard. "Before the next quake decides to drop the roof on our heads."
Rhea moved in halting steps, leaning heavily on him. They made their way to what looked like another descending passage, the walls lined with cryptic symbols. The deeper they went, the colder the air felt, as though some ancient chill seeped out from the rock itself. A trickle of water dripped from a fissure overhead, creating a narrow stream that flowed along the center of the path.
Each footstep splashed softly in the shallow water, echoing eerily in the enclosed space. The gloom pressed in from all sides, and Mikhailis found himself hyper-aware of every breath. The Mist Fragment flickered again, casting strange, wavering shadows that reminded him of dancing ghosts. He forced himself not to dwell on that image.
He glanced at Lira, whose expression remained composed despite the tension. She's always like that—cool under fire. He was grateful for it. If she panicked, then he'd know things were truly hopeless.
"What's the plan once we get out of here?" Rhea asked suddenly, as they turned a corner. "We can't just walk back to the surface like nothing happened. The city's in chaos."
Mikhailis sighed, feeling the weight of her words. In the back of his mind, he recalled the fleeting glimpses of illusions he'd had—visions of an awakened power, a city in ruin, and a thousand regrets. We messed up big time, he thought, a stab of guilt in his chest. But outwardly, he forced a shrug.
"We'll figure something out. I mean, that's what we always do, right?"
Rhea didn't answer, but the line of her jaw said she wasn't convinced. She let out a tight breath, focusing on each step.
They continued in silence for a few more minutes, navigating twists and turns. Now and then, the corridor would fork, but Mikhailis found himself drawn to certain paths without thinking, the fragment's glow flaring each time he chose a direction. It was as though the artifact had a mind of its own, steering them. He didn't like the idea of being led around by a hunk of magic stone, but they had few alternatives.
A sudden jolt rocked the corridor. Dust billowed down, and small stones rattled beneath their feet. Rhea stumbled, clutching at Mikhailis's jacket to stay upright. He swore under his breath. At this rate, we'll be buried for sure.
He cast a quick glance at Lira. "Any chance you see an exit sign around here?"
Her lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "Only if you want it carved in glowing runes. I'm guessing no." Experience exclusive tales on Freewebnovel
"That's what I was afraid of."
They pushed onward, hearts pounding. Mikhailis felt his back and shoulders ache from supporting Rhea, but he refused to let go. If he had to carry her out, he would. She would do the same for him, if their roles were reversed—though maybe with more cursing.
Up ahead, the passage narrowed, forcing them to walk in single file. Water trickled through cracks, forming a thin sheet of slime on the walls. The air smelled musty and stale, with an undercurrent of decay that turned Mikhailis's stomach. He made a face, remembering how he was supposed to be flirting with women at court, not stumbling around a labyrinth that smelled like a centuries-old basement.
"Remind me," he said quietly, trying to inject some levity, "to never go exploring old catacombs again."
Rhea snorted. "And you expect me to believe that?"
Lira actually let out a tiny laugh. "You'll forget that promise as soon as we get out."
"Yeah, probably." Mikhailis allowed a small grin. Even though fear churned in his gut, these small moments of banter steadied him, reminding him they were still alive.
Another quake rattled the corridor. This one felt sharper, almost like a giant slamming its fist into the ground. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling, and one grazed Mikhailis's shoulder hard enough to make him flinch. A hiss of pain escaped him, but he gritted his teeth and kept going.
Rhea's grip on his arm tightened. "You sure you're okay?" she asked, voice softer than usual.
He nodded, biting back a groan. "Just a bump."
She gave him a sidelong glance, but didn't press. If they started comparing bruises, they'd never stop. They hurried on, ignoring the throbbing aches that plagued them.
After another few dozen steps, the corridor opened into a broader cavern with a floor covered in dusty tiles, each one chipped or cracked. Weirdly, it felt slightly less claustrophobic there. The runes in the walls pulsed faintly, offering a shaky source of light. He could see the swirling motes of dust in the air, dancing like tiny ghosts.
He was about to crack another joke—maybe something about needing hazard pay—when he realized Rhea was trembling. At first, he thought it was just exhaustion, but then he caught the flicker of fear in her eyes. Is she remembering something? She rarely showed weakness. The fact she was barely holding it together told him everything about how dire she felt this situation was.
Nevertheless, she drew herself up. "I'm fine," she said, unprompted. "We keep going."
Mikhailis studied her for a heartbeat, a twinge of sympathy tugging at him. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to be strong every second of the day, but he knew that would only embarrass her. Instead, he gave a gentle nod and continued forward, letting her set the pace as best she could.
Within a few steps, the corridor narrowed again, funneling them into yet another tunnel that twisted away into the dark. He noticed an odd arch carved into the stone at the entrance, with runic patterns shaped like swirling vines. The fragment in his hand flared, and he couldn't help but swallow hard. Is this some sort of threshold?
A wave of unease slid over him as they passed beneath the arch. The runes glowed a little brighter, the fragment pulsing in response. It was almost like a quiet conversation between the old magic in the walls and the essence in his palm. What do you want from me? he wondered. But the artifact didn't speak, only glowed.
Behind him, Lira's footsteps echoed softly, and Rhea's uneven steps followed. Another tremor made the ceiling groan, as if reminding them that time was short. He forced himself to stay focused, picking his way over fallen stones, guiding Rhea around the larger chunks of debris.
His thoughts teetered on the edge of alarm as he recalled how they'd ended up here—chasing illusions, dealing with half-baked plans to sabotage Technomancers, and unraveling ancient secrets nobody fully understood. Now, with the catacombs tearing themselves apart, he worried they'd never see the surface again.
Yet, a part of him refused to lose hope. He'd survived ridiculous scrapes before. Elowen always teased him that he must have luck hoarded in some hidden chest. Maybe that luck would hold out just a while longer.
He felt another shift in the air—a faint draft, whispering of open space ahead. Maybe an exit? Or a bigger chamber? Whatever it was, he needed to press on.
Rhea let out a measured breath, voice tinged with exasperation. "When we get out of here, I'm taking a vacation. Somewhere sunny. With no monsters, no old curses, no exploding barrels…"
"And no me?" Mikhailis teased, though his tone carried a hint of genuine curiosity.
She gave a half-smile, pained but real. "I'll think about it."
That small joke relaxed him a fraction. If Rhea still had the energy to snipe at him, then her spirit wasn't broken yet. He tightened his arm around her waist, more determined than ever to see them all safely through. Lira fell back a step, ensuring nobody snuck up from behind—though realistically, the only enemies down here were the catacombs themselves.
They trudged along in silence for a short while, each lost in thoughts of survival. Another quake rattled the walls, but weaker this time, more like an aftershock. Even so, they grimaced collectively. The next big one might finish off the entire tunnel.
Finally, they reached a spot where the corridor branched in two directions. One path sloped upward, but it was clogged by fallen beams and a mound of debris that looked as stable as a house of cards. The other path went lower, deeper into the darkness, a small trickle of water running along its center. Mikhailis hesitated, glancing at the fragment in his hand. The mist swirled within it, almost nudging him down the lower route. He grimaced. Down again? That felt counterintuitive when you wanted to reach the surface.
But the runes along that tunnel flickered with faint light, as if urging them on. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he murmured.
Rhea sighed. "I've had a bad feeling since the floor caved in."
Lira studied the upper path's blockade of stone and cracked beams. "That looks too unstable to clear. We might trigger another collapse if we try."
Mikhailis nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. "So down it is." He forced a grin that he didn't quite feel. "I guess up is overrated anyway."