She tried a smile, but it didn't hold. It thinned out halfway, worn around the edges. Her eyes didn't lift. They stayed on the hole in the floor, on the space her Ikona would have to fly through.
Kikaru's voice broke the pause. Sharp, immediate.
"This better work," she muttered, arms crossed tight against her chest. Her Ikona glowed low beside her, like it didn't like the plan any more than she did.
"No one's forcing you," Elias said, without turning.
"Yeah," Tidwell added, stepping forward and flicking his knife once in the low light. "But she's not wrong. This whole rat hole's a gamble."
He didn't say it with the same edge as before. His voice was lower now. Not angry, just spent.
Paul didn't move, but his eyes followed the path to the tunnel. He nodded once.
"It's something," he said. "Might be all we've got."
Junjo lingered by the wall, hands still clenched tight. He hadn't stopped shaking.
"What if it's a trap?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
