Morning arrived slowly inside the tightly sealed cave. Faint light slipped through the small ventilation gap above the wooden planks, carrying a soft gray hue that was neither too bright nor completely dark. The rain had stopped, no more roaring downpour, no more wild howling wind. All that remained was a wet silence: occasional drips of water falling from roots outside, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and wet leaves, and thin mist still drifting low between the trees.
Sylvia woke first, as always. Her red eyes opened slowly, staring at the moss-covered cave ceiling. The Chain of Abyss on her wrist no longer trembled restlessly; its vibrations were calmer now, as if listening to the world outside beginning to breathe again. Noir was still curled in her lap, his small body rising and falling gently with each sleeping breath. Sofia in the sleeping bag beside her stirred softly, golden hair tousled and covering part of her face, lips slightly parted.
