Elias gripped the handle, sweat already starting to bead on his brow as he braced himself.
The first pull against the plate sent a screech through the room, metal against metal, sparks flashing in erratic bursts. His arms burned from the effort almost immediately, but he kept at it, carving through the barrier with slow, grinding strokes.
Finally, the plate buckled and fell inward with a heavy clang, the sound rattling through the quarters.
A tight tunnel yawned open beyond the breach, the walls lined with thick, aged piping — the smell of damp metal and recycled water bleeding through the cracked opening.
The air inside was cooler, the space narrow and dark.
Sensors embedded along the walls hummed faintly, the old systems still alive, still watching.
Elias leaned closer, Dot's glow lighting the first few feet of the passage.
His heart hammered, the tight space beyond offering no promises — only questions.
He drew in a breath and stepped back toward the others.
