"I just got off the phone with my parents."
The words came out fragile—barely above a whisper.
Caelen's head lifted at the sound of Jabby's voice. It was quieter than usual, trembling just enough to betray the fear hiding behind it.
She stood a few feet away, her phone still clutched in her hands like it was a lifeline.
The screen dimmed, but her thumb stayed frozen above it, her expression locked somewhere between hope and dread.
Her eyes weren't on them. They were glued to the large monitor across the room, where the live feed played in a loop of static and flickering darkness.
The faint hum of the broadcast filled the air—uneven, distorted by interference—but the image was clear enough to see what mattered: the entrance of the dungeon, silent and motionless.
"Any news?" Jabby asked after a pause, her voice cracking halfway through.
Caelen had been sitting there since the broadcast began—silent, unmoving, elbows braced on his knees, eyes glued to the feed.
