---
They marched a kilometre ahead. Tunnels were shaky and tilting deeper at each split. Kai placed chalk arrows marked and cross checked everything with memory of the mental map. A'zhorath's chamber had projected into his head at the moment of egg‑bond.
"Left, right, right again, then drop shaft."
At the drop shaft, he halted the column. A widow of breeze kiss wafted upward, dry as parchment. The shaft plunged near straight forty metres. Fenn secured silken rope to a jagged spur. One miner or treasure hunter clicked his mandibles anxiously.
Brask rumbled, "Smell that? Sulphur… and wet stone. Vault air usually tastes metallic."
Kai sniffed, it was indeed different: warmer, more humid. Like the breath of some slumbering forge. "This could be a geothermal pocket near the treasure chamber," he guessed. "Rose‑heat keeps relics pristine."
Mia nodded. "We will descend. Two at a time. Jun you will be last, you will set a seal after the rope retracted."
