Kane wrung water from his hair, amber eyes adjusting to the cave's gloom.
The darkness wasn't absolute—bioluminescent algae clung to the walls in patches, casting everything in faint blue-green light.
Whatever gases Cyrus had warned about were gone—or never real to begin with.
"Your toxic volcanic gases seem pretty breathable," Kane muttered, pushing himself upright.
Cyrus didn't respond.
Kane pushed himself fully upright, his soaked linen shirt clinging to his frame as he surveyed the cave.
Pretty much what he'd expected—stalactites hung from the ceiling like stone teeth, water dripped in echoing rhythm somewhere deeper in, and clusters of bats clung to the shadows above.
"Hey." Kane glanced back at Cyrus with a smirk. "Your wings kinda look like theirs when they're all folded up like that."
Cyrus's expression remained flat.
"Hilarious."
"I thought so." Kane wrung more water from his shirt, tilting his head as he peered deeper into the cave.
