The cave had finally begun to settle.
Not in peace—nothing in the fourth layer ever truly settled in peace—but in that fragile quiet that comes after the storm, the quiet where everyone pretends their nerves aren't shaking.
The cold breathed through the cracks in the stone, drawing long, thin trails of frost across the floor like pale arteries. The air hummed faintly, the way it always did in this dimension, like the world itself was murmuring beneath the surface.
Atlas led Lara toward the far corner, away from the entrance, away from the others.
Her steps were soft, but her heartbeat wasn't.
He could feel it through his hand on her wrist—fast, tense, as if something inside her were vibrating loose.
"Here," he said quietly.
They reached the wall—a slab of black stone marbled with veins of silver. Lara leaned back against it, letting out a breath that warbled slightly on the way out.
