The tunnel narrowed behind them, like the roots were swallowing the path. Raven didn't look back.
The talisman around his neck pulsed once—not with light, but with pressure. A gentle reminder: he was no longer in the world above.
Duskrunner materialized first, his growl low and alert. Then came the Phantom Seer, emerging with a flicker of shadow and bone, its head tilting unnaturally toward the walls.
"Stay close," Raven muttered, stepping into the open.
The tunnel spat them out into a vast subterranean cavern. Not a chamber—a full cathedral of stone and roots, older than maps, older than memory.
Light poured from the ceiling in threads, not from the sky, but from massive vines suspended like chandeliers. Each pulse of light felt biological. Rhythmic. Like the breath of a sleeping giant.
