The echo of dripping water carried through the tunnel like the slow ticking of a clock. Lin's breathing was steady, though his pulse was anything but. The cold, damp air pressed against his skin, mingling with the stale reek of mold and rust. Every footstep seemed too loud, even when he tried to keep his weight light, careful. Behind him, Keller's boots scuffed against the wet concrete, while Min-joon's flashlight beam cut nervously through the shadows.
"Keep it down," Lin whispered, his voice no louder than the soft scrape of a rat darting along the tunnel wall. "Sound carries here. More than you think."
Min-joon clicked off the flashlight at once, plunging them into thick darkness. Only the faint glow of distant maintenance lamps, hanging weak and yellow, gave any shape to the corridor ahead.
"They're close, aren't they?" Keller muttered. He didn't need an answer; the tension in the air was already thick with the knowledge.
