They returned to the hollow patch of ground like explorers who had forgotten they were just three girls with stolen tools and zero planning. Grass bent under their shoes, damp with night air that hadn't existed when the swings creaked behind them.
Mimi took the shovel because of course she did.
Ragna knelt with the trowel, already brushing away loose earth like she was uncovering ancient ruins.
Neera, who should never have been handed sharp objects but was anyway, poked the dirt with the gardening fork like it owed her money.
"So," Mimi said, raising the shovel like a flag, "if we find a dead body, I'm calling dibs on telling the story at parties."
Neera froze mid-stab. "Do not joke about that. Human remains would imply homicide, burial, decomposition and pest activity. We are not equipped."
Ragna looked up, dry. "You're saying we need better tools for a corpse?"
"No," Neera replied, already horrified at her own brain. "I'm saying we need forensic protocol and gloves. And maybe a priest. And—"
The fork hit something.
A dull thunk.
Neera's entire soul short-circuited.
She stared at the ground like it had just spoken. "That was bone."
"That," Mimi corrected cheerfully, "was a tree root."
Neera prodded again, slower this time, poking at the root like she expected it to lunge at her.
"…It looks like a femur," she whispered.
Ragna leaned over, squinting.
"That is literally connected to a tree."
Neera did not look convinced. "You do not know what trees do in secret."
Mimi gasped, eyes wide with forbidden knowledge. "Photosynthesis and homicide."
Ragna quietly nodded. "Botanical serial killers. Makes sense."
Neera dropped the fork in despair. "Both of you are insufferable."
Mimi bent, scooping dirt with dramatic sweeps, throwing clumps behind her like she was digging her way to freedom. Ragna's movements were neater — methodical, focused — creating an actual pit instead of chaos landscaping. Neera tried to be scientific, but every time her tool scraped against wood or root she made a noise halfway between panic and offended pride.
At one point she hit another thick root and recoiled so fast she almost stepped on Mimi.
"That is surely bone," she insisted.
Mimi crouched beside it, squinting like a jewel appraiser. "Yep. The bone of… a tree. A mighty oak. Strong, noble, recently deceased."
Ragna's mouth twitched into a smirk she tried and failed to hide.
The hole deepened slowly, grass giving way to darker soil, and soon their knees were coated in mud. Dirt clung to Mimi's shoelaces, streaked Ragna's elbows, and somehow turned Neera's white shirt into abstract art.
Their hands moved.
Their breaths synced.
The world stayed very small and very alive.
Somewhere around their third inch of depth, Mimi paused again.
"So if there is a skeleton," she said thoughtfully, "do we split it like a souvenir set? Skull for Neera, ribs for Ragna, and I get the dramatic leg bones?"
Neera looked mortified. "We are not dividing hypothetical remains."
Ragna nodded seriously. "Yes. Mimi gets the skull. She needs it more."
Mimi's eyes sparkled with offense and delight. "Are you calling me brainless?"
"I am calling you decorative."
Mimi threw a leaf at her.
It was pathetic.
It fluttered down sadly.
Ragna blinked slow, unimpressed.
And yet — all three of them laughed like it was the funniest thing the night had ever seen.
They kept digging.
Dirt flying.
Fireflies weaving around their ankles like lanterns endorsing bad decisions.
Playful. Curious.
Three girls breaking ground on something they didn't yet understand.
The world hadn't changed — not yet —
but the earth beneath them felt thinner now.
Mimi was mid-rant about who gets which hypothetical ribs when the world answered back.
A sharp metallic CLANG.
All three froze.
Not root-thunk. Not dirt-shift.
Metal striking metal, bright and hollow like a bell under the earth.
Mimi's eyes widened. "Tell me that was another tree bone."
Neera didn't move. "Trees don't sound like industrial accidents."
Now their digging was faster, less controlled, fueled by adrenaline instead of nostalgia. Dirt flew in clumps, roots snapped, and breath came in sharp little laughs half born of disbelief.
The soil fell away piece by piece until something flat and cold glinted through the dirt — dull silver, red-brown at the edges, the top corner visible like a secret exhaling.
"A trapdoor," Mimi breathed.
Half rusted.
Buried deep.
Old enough to feel like the ground had been hiding it on purpose.
Ragna reached for it immediately, muscles flexing like she intended to rip history open with bare willpower, but Neera blocked her with a firm hand and something more dramatic.
Two rubber gloves materialized out of nowhere.
"No tetanus today," she said, tone sharp enough to cut the moment.
Mimi blinked. "Did you just loot the shed like a side quest reward?"
Neera put one glove on Ragna, one on herself, then offered a third pair like a disappointed mom.
Mimi accepted. Reluctantly. Like gloves insulted her adventurous spirit.
They gripped the metal ring together — Ragna anchoring strength, Neera controlling angle, Mimi contributing sheer chaotic enthusiasm — and pulled.
At first, it didn't budge.
Then metal groaned, old hinges screaming as if woken from a hundred-year nap, and with one last heave the trapdoor lurched upward.
Cold air exhaled from the dark below, damp and unfamiliar.
No floor greeted them. Just emptiness.
A drop. Deep. Black. Bottom unseen.
Mimi leaned forward with the confidence of a golden retriever in a superhero cape. "What if we just—"
Ragna grabbed her collar before gravity could file a complaint.
"Mimi," she said with the patience of someone who has prevented multiple injuries in her lifetime. "Falling ten meters is not a fun surprise."
Mimi blinked down at the abyss. "Oh."
Neera pointed, voice lower now, not scared — just perfectly, scientifically alert.
"There," she said, tracing the wall with her flashlight. "Rusted rungs. A ladder. Sort of."
Iron bars jutted out of the wall like ribs, corroded, uneven, as if built decades ago and forgotten.
Mimi's grin returned instantly. "So it isn't just a hole. It's an entrance."
Ragna's gaze flicked between the girls, steady and unreadable, but there was something sparked behind her eyes.
Adventure.
Risk.
Curiosity that tasted like metal and old stories.
Neera swallowed, pulse loud in her ears. "If we climb down, we do it carefully. Slowly. One at a time."
Mimi leaned over the open mouth of the underground like it was calling her by name.
"Ladies," she whispered, "we just found a whole hidden world under our park."
The trapdoor lay open at their feet.
The ladder waited like a dare.
And three girls stood at the edge — breath held, hearts loud, eyes shining.
Ragna was the first to move.
Not because she wasn't scared, but because she refused to let fear be the one to decide. She slipped onto the first rung, tested her weight, then her grip, then took the second like she'd been climbing into holes her whole life.
Mimi leaned over the edge beside Neera, ponytails hanging upside down like curious antennae.
"She looks like a bat," Mimi whispered.
Ragna didn't look up, but her voice echoed up the narrow shaft.
"I can hear you. And I am choosing not to be offended."
Mimi grinned and grabbed the next rung down, swinging onto the ladder with an ease that bordered on reckless.
"Guess I'm next. If I fall, I expect dramatic mourning."
Neera just gripped the opening tighter. "If you fall, I am not catching you."
"Soooo dramatic mourning?"
"...Fine."
Halfway down, Mimi glanced up with a wicked smirk.
"Neera, get in. If you slip I'm grabbing you by the collar like a cat."
Neera muttered something about broken spines and bad decisions, but she climbed onto the iron rungs anyway — slow, precise, like she was negotiating with gravity. Her knuckles whitened every time rust flaked under her glove.
The descent was long enough that time felt weird.
Their breathing sounded too big for the space, every whisper bouncing off stone and coming back twice as loud.
Ragna, voice low but steady:
"It smells like rain down here."
Mimi hummed in agreement. "Old stone after monsoon. Like wet history."
Neera's answer came shakier. "It is probably water seepage. Or mold. Or something decomposing."
Mimi hit her lightly in the shin.
"Do not say decomposition while I am hanging above the abyss."
They climbed.
Every few meters, a rung crumbled under Ragna's weight — snapping off with a metallic scream that sent Mimi gasping and Neera very nearly swearing for the first time in her life.
Once, three in a row disintegrated, forcing Ragna to drop half a meter with a sound that stopped all hearts for one horrible second.
But she didn't fall.
None of them did.
And when their feet finally touched solid stone floor, knees trembling, fingers numb, they stood there together for several seconds—half laughing, half shaking, fully alive.
Mimi let out a loud exhale that ricocheted through the tunnel.
"We didn't die. We actually didn't die."
Ragna braced herself against the wall, breathing through a half-smile that looked stolen from adrenaline.
"I expected worse. Honestly proud of us."
Neera lowered herself to sit, heart racing against her ribs like it wanted out.
"I lost fifteen years of life expectancy."
The space around them was narrow — as narrow as the hole above, but continuing forward like a throat into darkness. The air was cool, walls damp, ceiling low enough that Ragna had to duck slightly. Their footsteps sounded too sharp, too present.
It wasn't a room.
It was a passage.
Long. Quiet.
Waiting.
Neera was the first to stop them — hand out, voice steady but softer than usual.
"Wait. Ragna, how long were you planning to pretend your knees aren't bleeding?"
Ragna stiffened like someone had called her out for a crime.
"It's just a scratch."
Which was technically true.
Just a scratch.
A red, raw, gravel-bitten, very obviously painful scratch.
Mimi clicked her tongue, already tearing a strip from the hem of her own shirt.
"And I'm Queen of Sweden. Sit."
Ragna opened her mouth to protest, but Neera had already knelt beside her with calm, surgical precision, ripping her own shirt sleeve to match Mimi's sacrifice. Two makeshift bandages, bright against stone and shadow, wrapped around Ragna's knees with care instead of commentary.
Ragna turned her head away, cheeks pink even in the low light.
"It really isn't a big deal."
Mimi gave her a look full of smug affection.
"Yeah. But you'd pretend you were fine even if your legs fell off."
Neera tightened the knot gently.
"And we would still tie you new ones."
Ragna breathed out — not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. Something warm.
She stood, ready to lead, but Mimi braced an arm in front of her chest.
"Not this time. I'm in front. You two are already injured in spirit and body."
Neera blinked. "I am uninjured."
Mimi didn't even glance back.
"You fell face-first into the earth. Your pride is limping."
Neera opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, then shut it again.
Ragna, flustered but resigned, let herself be guided.
Mimi held the flashlight like a sword and stepped forward.
The tunnel narrowed fast.
Their footsteps echoed in tight, rhythmic beats, breaths amplifying until it felt like the silence was watching. The wall brushed Mimi's shoulder. Ragna ducked lower. Neera shifted closer, supporting Ragna when she stumbled, earning a stubborn shove and a muttered "I can walk."
"You can," Neera agreed, unbothered, "but I'd rather you walk tomorrow too."
Ragna scowled. Not at the pain — at kindness she never knew how to hold.
Then the ceiling dropped.
Concrete that was comfortably overhead seconds ago now pressed low enough to scrape hair. The tunnel sloped downward, shrinking from hallway to crawl-space, the air cooler and stiller.
Mimi crouched, then bent further, eventually lowering to her hands and knees.
"…Okay. New rule. No one with knees should go first except me."
Neera froze. "Ragna is not crawling on those."
Ragna was already dropping to the ground.
Jaw set. Eyes determined. Movement sharp with pride.
"It's fine," she said, voice flat but steady. "We go together. No slowing down."
Mimi twisted back to look at her, expression unreadable in the half-light.
Bravery and stupidity often rhymed, and Ragna held both like armor.
Neera's inhale trembled. She didn't fight it — just moved closer, ready to catch her if she slipped even an inch.
Three girls.
A tunnel growing smaller.
Forward the only direction.
Ragna placed her hand on the cold floor and began to crawl.
Not because it didn't hurt.
Because she refused to let pain decide for her.
And they followed her into the narrowing dark —
Mimi's flashlight a thin line of gold, Neera's breath steady beside them, knees scraping stone, heartbeats louder than footsteps.
They crawled like creatures who had absolutely no dignity left, Mimi in front, Neera on her elbows behind her, and Ragna last with a quiet determination that made every scrape of stone sound braver than it should've.
At least until Mimi slowed just enough for Neera's forehead to bump her thigh.
"Your butt is extremely close to my face," Neera announced, voice flat as a test result.
"My butt is a blessing," Mimi shot back.
Ragna snorted behind them. "If I suffocate back here, I'm haunting both of you."
"You already haunt us," Mimi replied sweetly. "Emotionally."
Neera elbowed Mimi's calf. Mimi yelped. The crawl continued.
And then — air.
Space.
Mimi's head popped up first like a prairie dog, then she scrambled forward out of the tunnel and disappeared from sight with a small gasp. Neera emerged next, blinking hard as the world suddenly expanded around her. Ragna followed, slower but steady, crawling out of the earth like she'd just fought it and won.
The room they stepped into felt like stepping into another world entirely.
The ceiling towered above them, impossibly high after the suffocating crawlway. Their flashlights barely caught the edges — rough stone walls, ancient, massive, echoing every breath like a secret repeated. Dust hung like slow falling snow, glittering in the beam.
And directly ahead:
A door.
Not wood. Not metal.
Stone — carved, monumental, covered in winding patterns and reliefs like cathedral bones. Symbols intertwined across its surface, sharp spirals and geometric knots that looked older than time and confident about it.
Mimi whistled low.
"Okay… that door has vibes."
"Gothic," Neera murmured. "And symmetrical. Someone put effort into this."
Ragna stepped closer, fingertips almost brushing the cold surface.
"What do you think is behind it? Mummies? Treasure? Demon choir?"
Mimi gasped. "Secret wine temple."
Neera gave her a look. "Not everything underground is alcohol."
Mimi grinned. "One can dream."
Ragna braced her palms on the stone and pushed. Hard.
Not even a vibration.
Neera joined. Mimi added her full body weight for dramatic flair.
Nothing.
That's when Mimi noticed it — a circular panel to the side of the door, etched with symbols that rotated when pressed. A lock, but not a normal one.
"A cipher," she breathed, delighted beyond reason. "A puzzle door. We're in a video game."
Neera's eyes sharpened like a cat spotting a laser pointer.
"A puzzle implies a solution."
Mimi slapped her back. "And you, my dear Neera, were built for this."
This time, Ragna even nodded.
"You solve math problems for fun. This is practically flirting."
Neera's face did something unfamiliar — a quiet flare of challenge, pride and excitement colliding.
They huddled together in front of the panel, three heads bent over ancient symbols as if it were a group project at 3 AM. Neera traced the patterns, muttering theories under her breath. Ragna pointed out recurring motifs. Mimi held the flashlight steady, throwing in increasingly unhinged suggestions like "try spelling cheese" and "what if we sacrifice Ragna's bandages for good luck."
Through trial, error, logic, and more chaotic commentary than the situation called for —
The answer clicked.
Neera pressed the final alignment with a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
The cipher spun like a wheel, gears grinding deep within the stone, echoing through the chamber like the awakening of something that should have stayed asleep.
Then the doors moved.
Not fast — slow, heavy, trembling with age — but they moved.
A wind breathed from the darkness beyond, cold and ancient, brushing their skin like the touch of a long-forgotten world.
Mimi took a step forward, eyes wide.
Ragna's chest rose and fell once, steady.
Neera's hand trembled — but she didn't pull it back.
The door split open.
Revealing only black.
And the unknown waiting inside it.