CLANG—HISS.
The heavy metal blast door slammed shut behind them, sealing off the roar of the magma vents and the distant sounds of Brokk's team heading left.
Silence descended instantly.
Unlike the main shaft, which was alive with the sound of steam and monsters, the Old Sector was dead quiet. The air here was stale, smelling of rust, ozone, and ancient dust that hadn't been disturbed in centuries.
"Lumos," Hephaestus whispered, tapping a crystal on his shoulder.
A beam of pale yellow light cut through the absolute darkness, illuminating a long, cylindrical tunnel lined with rusted pipes and massive, dormant cables that hung like dead snakes from the ceiling.
"This way," the Prince whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he checked the map. "The Royal Vault is three kilometers deep. We have to follow the main conduit."
Damien walked beside him, his Shadow Sense fully expanded. The darkness here felt different, heavier, older.
