Chapter 28: The Cost of Deception

The weathered hatch creaked open, unleashing a waft of stale air that smelled strongly of mold and wet dirt. With the tunnel's blackness stretching out in front of them like a ravenous mouth, John and Marie shared a tight glance. John turned on the integrated light in his suit, illuminating a small passageway surrounded by jagged stones with a dim glow. The humidity in the air felt like a slimy veil across their skin. As they descended more and felt the weight of the city bearing down on them, the musty stench became worse. On John's wrist console, the broken map from the diary page flashed weakly, guiding them through a maze of winding hallways. The tunnels seemed to go on forever, with every bend being the same as the previous. The sound of their boots crunching on the uneven terrain shattered the silence, which hung heavy in the air. Marie said in a scarcely audible whisper, "This place feels...ancient." With a shudder down his spine, John nodded. The tunnels gave off the