The tunnel breathed.
Not a flicker—an actual breath. Slow, damp, and thick, like the exhale of something alive just beneath the walls. As they crawled, the surface moved under their hands—warm and soft, like skin stretched over a sleeping body.
Lana led the way. Jason followed behind her, breathing hard. Nyx was just ahead, moving like this was normal—like they weren't crawling through the insides of something. Kieran stayed at the back, his fingers brushing the tunnel wall like he was listening to it.
The air felt heavier now.
Not impossible to breathe, just... wrong. Like it had been filtered through something wet and strange, not lungs, not machines—just something else entirely.
Jason coughed.
"I can't breathe."
"You can," Lana told him, reaching back to grab his wrist. She pressed his hand to the ground.
It gave slightly under his palm.
He gagged. "God—what is this?"
Nyx didn't turn around. "Stop fighting it. The tunnel's breathing. You need to match it."
Jason blinked, pale and sweating. "Match it how?"
"Feel the rhythm," she said. "Breathe with it."
It sounded crazy. But he tried. He slowed his breath. Matched it to the pulse under his hand.
And it worked.
The tightness in his chest eased. They kept going.
Then Kieran froze.
"Wait."
Everyone stopped. Lana twisted back, careful not to scrape her arm against the ridged lines on the wall.
Kieran had gone still, his palm flat against the side, eyes closed.
He was whispering something—quiet and strange, like he wasn't talking to them… or even to himself.
Lana leaned closer. "What did you hear?"
He didn't answer.
Nyx turned her head just enough to show part of her face. "It knows his name."
Lana frowned. "Which name?"
Nyx didn't blink. "Not the one he uses now. The one they took from him."
Kieran's eyes opened.
They weren't gold anymore.
They weren't black.
They weren't even human.
They were clear—so clear they looked like ice or glass, like winter frozen into eyes.
And then he spoke.
"I remember the girl with the white braid."
Lana felt the words stop her breath.
Kieran blinked once, then again. His face shifted.
"What did I just say?" he asked.
Jason stared. "You don't know?"
Kieran touched his lips. "No."
He shivered—not from fear, not from cold, but like something long-buried had just cracked open inside him.
Lana reached out. Brushed her fingers against his hand.
It grounded him.
His eyes slowly darkened again, the ice melting back into shadow.
They moved on.
The tunnel was changing.
The floor got slicker. The smell thickened—like old breath and wet meat.
Then the passage widened.
They stepped into a soft, round space—about the size of a small storage room, if that room had been made from the inside of a lung.
Jason crouched last, scanning the area with his device.
Nyx entered first. Lana scanned the ground.
It was bone.
Not obvious—just small fragments. Teeth. Bits of ribs. Some pieces wrapped in wires, like someone had tried to print veins and didn't finish.
Jason knelt. "This isn't natural."
"No," Kieran said. "It's left over."
"From what?"
Lana lowered herself into the center of the space. "From Noctis."
She stepped forward.
Her foot slipped.
She hit the ground hard, catching herself with one hand.
Her palm stung.
When she looked—blood.
Not much. But enough.
The floor moved beneath her.
The blood vanished.
It didn't drip or spread.
It was gone—sucked into the floor like it had been waiting for it.
Then her arm began to glow.
From inside.
Her skin turned see-through for a second, her bones lit up like X-rays.
And they weren't shaped right.
The bones were too long in the forearm. Too short at the wrist.
She yanked her hand back.
The glow stopped.
Jason stared, frozen, still holding his scanner.
"I saw that," he said. "We all did."
Kieran moved toward her, crouching, eyes on her hand.
He didn't touch her. Just watched.
Nyx pressed her palm to the floor where the blood had gone.
Nothing happened.
She pulled back and looked at Lana. "It knows you."
Jason muttered, "I really don't like that."
Then came the sound.
Slithering.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
Not behind them—next to them.
A tunnel running parallel.
Kieran stood, claws just under his skin, ready.
Jason lifted his scanner.
It sputtered. Then died.
"I just changed the batteries," he said, shaking it.
Nyx tilted her head. "It's not the power. It doesn't like being watched."
Lana whispered, "Is it following us?"
"No," Nyx said. "It's following our shape."
Jason frowned. "What does that mean?"
Nyx looked at him. "It wants to wear us."
Lana stared at her.
Then the wall next to them bulged.
A spasm—not a breath this time.
Then it flattened again.
The slithering stopped.
Jason stopped breathing.
Kieran stayed perfectly still.
Nyx gave a small, calm smile. "It's still learning."
Lana crouched. "Let's move."
They left the chamber.
The tunnel split ahead—two branches.
The left one gave off heat and the smell of rust.
The right smelled like metal—cold, clean, sharp.
Between them, the wall pulsed.
Once. Then again.
Something pushed out.
A round shape, pale.
Then it opened.
An eye.
Not human.
But not entirely alien either.
Flesh shaped like something trying to copy a human eye.
It looked at Lana.
Only her.
She felt it—not in her mind, but deep in her chest and bones, like her blood reacted before she could think.
Nyx stepped beside her.
"It sees you."
"What does that mean?" Lana asked.
Nyx didn't look away. "It only wants what it was built to love."
Lana turned. "And what was that?"
Nyx didn't answer. She didn't have to.
The eye blinked.
The cold tunnel hissed.
The hot one widened, just slightly.
Jason pointed to the cleaner tunnel. "That one looks safer."
Kieran hesitated.
Lana stepped toward the warmer path.
Pain shot through her left shoulder.
She gasped and looked down.
Her old scar—pale for years—was bleeding again.
Right where Evelyn had injected the serum.
The heat from the tunnel seemed to pull it open.
Jason looked worried. "Why are you choosing that one?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then: "Because it hurts."
"That's not a reason."
"It is here."
She stepped forward.
The warm tunnel expanded just a little—like it was letting her in.
The other tunnel hissed again.
Then stopped.
Behind them, the slithering came back—faster now.
Kieran looked over his shoulder, his eyes flashing. "We're out of time."
No one argued.
They followed Lana.
The tunnel closed behind them.
And somewhere in the other path, something hissed again.
Not in anger.
In hunger.