We walk deeper into the tunnels.
The Turtarex's impacts on the collapsed entrance fade behind us, beat by beat. A drum losing its player. Just a reminder not to turn around.
What worries me is the sound ahead.
It's not the same chuff as before. It's more of it. Overlapping.
And we don't have anywhere else to go.
A few minutes in, the tunnels open up.
The walls peel back and the ceiling lifts and we step into a gallery wide enough to swallow a two-story building. Stalagmites the size of trees push up from the floor. Stalactites hang from the roof. And in the middle of all of it, running the length of the chamber, is a chasm.
A big one.
Wide enough that I can see the far edge and know immediately we're not going around it.
I don't need to give the order.
Oliver is already moving. Rope coming out of his inventory, climbing harness next, a coil of thin wire with a grappling hook on the end. He's laying it all out in the order he'll use it. He's done this before.
