Below

Dion's limbs ached as he lay motionless, his ears straining against the silence. The fall had been rough, but he was alive. That was the only good news.

Everything else? Uncertain.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, his fingers brushing over damp, uneven stone. A faint chill clung to the air, thick with the scent of wet earth and rusted metal. The ground beneath him wasn't smooth—it was a mix of jagged rubble and decayed flooring, cracked and uneven.

As his eyes adjusted, shapes emerged from the dimness. A collapsed underground space. The remnants of metal beams jutted from the walls like broken ribs, half-buried in the rubble. A twisted railing ran along part of the structure, leading down into deeper darkness.

An old transit station? Maybe. A collapsed shelter? Possibly.

What mattered was that this wasn't a safe place to be.

He looked up. The hole he had fallen through loomed high above, jagged at the edges. No way to climb back. Even if he could, the Grimlings might still be up there, waiting.

'That's definitely out of the options'

Dion exhaled, forcing his breathing to steady.

He strained his eyes, trying to pry more about the place he falls into.

He was standing on what used to be a platform—or what was left of one. The floor had caved in at several points, exposing deep cracks and tunnels stretching beyond his sight. The metal framework of the ceiling hung low in places, bent inward from the collapse. He spotted remnants of old signs, their letters faded and peeling.

Whatever this place had once been, it was abandoned long before the world fell apart.

And yet, something had scared the Grimlings away.

'I could have just stay in the city today.' Dion grind his teeth silently with a grim face.

There is no time for regret though, he have to act fast.

'Not fast, maybe sleek?'

He carefully tested his footing, stepping forward. The ground was slick in places, coated in grime and stagnant moisture. The further he moved, the more his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Faint cracks in the walls let in thin slivers of light, just enough to keep him from walking blind.

He followed the most open path he could find, keeping close to the walls where his back was covered. He needed an exit.

Then, he felt it before he heard it.

A shift in the air.

Not just a breeze—something moving.

He stilled, his breath catching. The sound was faint, a soft disturbance somewhere behind him. Something was there.

He didn't turn though. Didn't run.

Instead, he walked. Steady. Unhurried. If it had wanted him dead, he already would be.

The passage ahead sloped upward, light filtering through cracks in the debris with a little bit of win.

'Maybe an exit or the nose of a dragon breathing cool air. Am I walking to my death?'

Dion didn't question his luck. Whatever was lurking in the shadows—whether it had lost interest or decided he wasn't worth the trouble—he wasn't going to wait for it to change its mind.

Without looking back, he kept moving.

And he didn't stop until he saw daylight again.