The stairwell didn't go up so much as it changed its mind about where "up" lived. One flight took me north, the next sideways, and a third insisted that down was now a lifestyle choice. Every landing was adorned with the same polished brass plaque: WELCOME TO THE SUMMIT.
It was lying. I've met honest villains; I've also met stairs.
"File a complaint," Valeria said from the quiet of my forearm, her tone bright and unhelpful. "Dear Management, your escalator cosplay is offensive to functional architecture."
Erebus brushed the pact-line once. 'Proceed.'
Julius waited two steps above me with one hand on the rail. He didn't glow. The stairwell simply behaved itself in his immediate vicinity, like a hallway that remembers it was designed by adults.
"This is not a physics problem," he said, reading the frustration on my face. "It's a story that thinks it's clever. Don't argue with it. Edit it."
"With Grey?" I asked.
