The tunnel's darkness was absolute.
The air was dense, damp, thick with ancient dust and unnamed things. Every step echoed like a muted thunder against the stone walls.
Grimm led the way, nose to the ground. Ash stayed closer to Elias, ears flicking at every sound. Calvin Morrow's frail weight pressed against Elias's shoulders, but he didn't slow down.
Behind them, the sound of engines faded into the earth.But Elias knew: they hadn't given up.They were just finding another way.
The tunnel wasn't natural.Marks on the walls and ceiling betrayed human hands.Old smuggling routes? Wartime shelters?Elias didn't care.
Not now.
The tunnel split into two paths.
Elias stopped, breathing slowly.
The left smelled of dead air and rot.The right carried a faint whisper of breeze — a hint of life.
Without hesitation, Elias chose the right.
The path narrowed, forcing him to crouch beneath broken beams and fallen stones.
Morrow muttered deliriously on his back.
— "Protect him... the project... failure... not meant to be..." — he whispered, broken words slipping into the dark.
Elias ignored it.First survive. Then ask questions.
The tunnel stretched endlessly.
Finally, a dim light flickered ahead.
An exit?Maybe.
Grimm growled low.
Ash pressed closer, tail stiff.
Something was wrong.
Elias carefully lowered Morrow behind a large rock and crept forward.
At the mouth of the tunnel, he stopped.
Outside — a camp.
Barricades of scrap metal. Armed men patrolling.
Not the same as before.
These wore New Order uniforms — altered, corrupted.
Traitors.
Mercenaries serving the highest bidder.
And they were waiting.
They knew he was coming.
A perfect trap.
Elias retreated silently.
He needed a plan.Fast.
He looked at Morrow, semi-conscious, and at his two dogs, who trusted him completely.
Running meant death.Turning back meant walking into waiting guns.
The tunnel was a living trap.
So Elias did what he always did.
He thought like a predator.
He closed his eyes, listening.
Echoes.Airflow.
Below — a different vibration.A subtle change in sound.
A hidden passage.
Maybe salvation.Maybe death.
There was no choice.
He whistled softly to Grimm and Ash.
Lifted Morrow again.
And plunged deeper into the unseen darkness.
The ground sloped sharply.
Colder.Wetter.
The sounds of the camp above faded.
New sounds replaced them — rumbling, murmuring.
Water.
A river.
They slipped down slippery rocks, the scent of wet earth heavy in their lungs.
The tunnel opened into a massive cavern.
The roar of rushing water filled the space.
In the dim light, Elias saw it — a serpentine river, winding through the black.
Grimm hesitated at the water's edge. Ash whimpered.
Elias scanned quickly.
The current was strong.Dangerous.
Carrying Morrow across would be almost impossible.
He thought fast.
He tied together broken planks and torn cloth from his gear, lashing them with straps from his pack — a crude raft.
Grimm and Ash could swim.
Elias would guide the raft.
Or they would all drown.
He secured Morrow tightly.
Whispered to the dogs:
"Stay close. Don't let go."
And pushed the raft into the current.
The river seized them instantly.
Grimm swam ahead. Ash paddled fiercely beside Elias.
The cold sliced into them like knives.
Elias could barely see his own hand in the darkness.
Hidden rocks battered the raft.Every second was a battle to stay afloat.
But he held on.For Morrow.For them.For himself.
Minutes — or hours — passed.
The current grew stronger.
Ahead — a new sound.
A roar.
Not just rushing water.
A fall.
A waterfall hidden underground.
No visibility. No control.
Elias barely had time to shout:
"Hold on!"
Before they all plunged into the abyss.
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