I've spent my life navigating sewers and back alleys, facing down Yakuza enforcers who'd cut your throat for looking at them wrong. I've survived games more dangerous than most people could imagine.
But this? This was new.
The tunnel stretched ahead of us like a throat, swallowing the pale silver light. Celeste walked in front of me, her back straight and shoulders squared in that perfect posture rich kids learn from birth. Even after falling down a damn hole and nearly dying, she looked like she could walk into a royal ball without raising eyebrows.
"See anything interesting up there, Princess?" I asked, enjoying how her shoulders tensed at the nickname.
"Just more symbols," she replied without turning around. "Similar to the ones on the walls of the chamber. I don't recognize the language."
"Probably because it's older than our world," I muttered.
