Laziel:"You awake?"
No response.
Jace was slouched against the dead generator, head tilted back, arms crossed like a man waiting on a refund from the universe. His eyes were shut. Breathing steady. Entire body loose — like he'd taken a nap in a war zone before and came out fine.
Laziel frowned.
She walked a circle around the room once. Checked the hallway, nothing. Still quiet.
When she turned back, he hadn't moved an inch.
Still asleep. Or dead.But probably asleep.
She rubbed her temple and muttered to herself.
Laziel:"Unbelievable."
Then she noticed his lips twitching.
Not in pain. Not in fear.
A smirk.
Across the room, perched like a shadow stitched into the console, Rook yawned wide, stretching exaggeratedly like a cat made of teeth and sarcasm.
Of course, only Jace saw him.
Rook:"I've seen toddlers with more battlefield discipline."
He flicked a small rusted nut into the air, caught it on his knuckles, and glanced at Jace's sleeping form.
Rook (grinning):"Guy's been dropped into a cursed trench full of scream walls and murder vents, and he still finds time for a nap. Almost impressive. Almost."
Jace woke up five minutes later. No urgency. No panic. Just opened one eye, scratched the side of his head, and muttered like he was waking up on a friend's couch.
Jace (groggy):"…Man, this floor aint that bad."
Laziel didn't even turn.
Laziel:"Glad you're back. Thought I was going to have to drag your corpse out of here just to get some peace."
Jace (stretching):"You know, you could try being nice once. Just once. Might keep the trench demons off us for an hour."
Laziel (flat):"You snore like a dying cow. You earned every demon coming your way."
Jace looked up, cracked his neck, and caught the phantom smile of Rook watching him from the shadows.
Jace:"How long was I out?"
Laziel:"Twenty-three minutes. And for the record, I considered looting your boots."
Jace:"Joke's on you. They're cursed."
Rook (chuckling):"Self-aware. I like it."
They packed up, not that there was much to carry.
Back into the trench.
The corridor they entered next was wrong. Too quiet. Too narrow. The lights above buzzed in strange patterns—one long flicker, three short, one long.
Jace didn't ask.He just noted the rhythm and kept walking.
Jace:"You know, I've been thinking."
Laziel:"Dangerous habit."
Jace:"If this whole place is rigged to break people down, test their limits... what happens when it can't?"
Laziel:"Then it cheats."
He smirked.
And behind him, Rook grinned too — wide, sharp, like he already knew the answer.
....
Jace didn't remember when the floor turned into sludge.
He blinked, and the metal beneath his boots had melted into something soft and sticky, like decomposing rubber. His coat picked up the scent of copper and fungus, and each breath stung a little more than the last.
The trench was getting deeper.
Or maybe just hungrier.
Laziel didn't talk much anymore. She walked ahead, blade low, knuckles pale. Even her silhouette looked thinner in the low light — not from fatigue, but a quiet shift in weight. She was drifting.
Jace noticed. Said nothing.
Rook, however, had been talking nonstop.
Mostly to himself.
"Do you think, if we die down here, they send a bill to our next of kin?" he muttered, hanging upside-down from a rusted ceiling pipe. "You think that's why they don't tell anyone where this is?"
Jace (dry):"I don't think they expect corpses to pay debts."
Rook (grinning):"Oh, come on. The tax office has demons. Literal ones."
Laziel didn't even glance back.
They found the barricade after a long turn through what looked like a collapsed command tunnel. The remains of a broken tram sat twisted across the walls like a spider frozen mid-crawl. Wires sparked. Fluorescent signs blinked in forgotten languages.
Voices echoed past the gate.
Real ones.
Not the trench. Not hallucinations. Not the cursed kind of whisper that seeped into bone.
Real people.
Jace perked up, tapping Laziel on the shoulder. "Guests?"
"No," she said, voice suddenly taut. "This is them."
Jace:"'Them' has a name?"
Laziel looked over her shoulder.
"Auren Fael. He's one of the ones who never left."