The cave's breathing changed as they moved forward—yes, breathing.
That's what it sounded like. A deep, cold inhalation that made the air recoil…
And a slow, grave exhalation that blew ancient snow through the suspended corridors.
Mercedes stayed close to Strax, each of her steps echoing fragilely on the frozen floor. Small spheres of fire floated around them like a swarm of flaming fireflies—always accompanying, always illuminating.
Strax moved forward with the confidence of someone walking in their own home.
Mercedes, on the other hand, seemed tiny, swallowed by the immensity of the place.
The cave was so large that sound didn't return; it was absorbed by the distant walls.
It's the kind of silence that would drive any ordinary human mad.
But not him. Never him.
Strax walked across an ice bridge that cracked beneath his feet—but only after he passed.
The egg vibrated, guiding him like a living compass.
