Meanwhile, somewhere in the undercity, Zafron stood in an alley, hands in his pockets. He had heard a click, same one that happened before he fell through and entered hector's lair. As the trap door gave way beneath Zafron's feet, he found himself once again plummeting through the now-familiar twisting tunnel.
The smooth surface offered no purchase for his flailing hands, and he couldn't help but let out a yelp of surprise despite having been through this before.
[Oh, here we go again,] Calista chimed in, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. [One would think you'd have learned to stick the landing by now, my lord.]
Before Zafron could formulate a retort, he was unceremoniously deposited onto the cold, hard floor of Hector's lab.
Groaning, he pushed himself up, brushing off the dirt and grime that clung to his clothes.