Further the corridor expanded into a chamber
The chamber widened. At its center stood something different — not mural, not stone.
A figure.
It wasn't alive, but it wasn't quite gone either: the mummified remains of an angel slumped against the wall, wings shackled by rusted chains. Its arms curled protectively around a massive egg, scorched black but still faintly pulsing with ember-light.
The sight froze us.
Would you look at that, as if the murals weren't enough I thought
The angel's face was gaunt, its bones sharp under withered skin. A collar of iron dug into its neck, symbols we couldn't read etched along the metal.
We stood there too long, until Veyra finally stepped forward. Practical as always. Her hands gripped the egg, careful but unhesitant, and with a rough jerk she freed it from the angel's brittle fingers. The skeleton crumbled into dust against the wall, wings collapsing in a sound like dry leaves.
Veyra turned, holding the egg under one arm like it weighed nothing."Well… whatever it is, it's coming with us."
Lex blinked. "You're just… taking it?"
"Better we carry it than leave it here," Veyra replied evenly. She tapped her knuckles against the shell — thunk. "It's solid. Heavy. Looks edible enough if we ever run low on food."
Lily snorted, half horrified, half amused. "You're seriously planning to eat a glowing egg?"
Veyra raised a brow. "If it boils, we eat it. If it cracks, we eat it. If it explodes—well, then we don't have to worry about eating anymore, do we?"
Nolan muttered, "That's… comforting."
Vivi laughed softly, shaking her head. "Only you would look at something this strange and think 'omelet.'"
Veyra shrugged, matter-of-fact. "Survival doesn't care about strange." She shifted the egg to her pack, strapping it tight. "Until we know what it is, treat it like provisions."
The murals had left their mark, but survival didn't pause for ancient secrets. By the time we returned to camp, the torches were burning low and the fire was nothing but glowing embers. The crypt's stale air was heavy with the scent of damp stone and smoke.
Veyra set the egg carefully into a cloth-lined nook of their supplies. Its faint warmth made the cold chamber a little less biting.
"Food first," she said, always the steady one.
We'd rationed carefully, but now most of the dried meat and bread had been handed over to Nolan's mother. She needed it more than us. The rest of us… we were learning to adapt. Hunger had become background noise, and water didn't drain from our skins as fast as it should have. Maybe it was this place. Maybe something was sustaining us.
Phoebe crouched near the fire pit, breaking apart bits of old coffin wood. "Creepy or not, it burns," she muttered as she shoved the splinters in. Sparks flared, and soon the flames flickered alive.
Lex stretched out beside it with a groan. "Ah, warmth. At least the dead left us one good thing."
"That's disrespectful," Vivi scolded, though she smirked despite herself.
"They're not using it anymore," Lex shot back. "Might as well keep us from freezing."
Lily rolled her eyes and sat cross-legged, parchment in her lap. "If you two are done bickering, I'm trying to sketch the egg. If we get out of here alive, I want proof I wasn't hallucinating."
Nolan, silent as ever, passed her a bit of charcoal. "Here. It'll hold better than ash."
The fire popped, sending tiny embers dancing up into the dark vault of the crypt. For a while, the group sat in the glow, a little pocket of warmth against the weight of stone.
Veyra leaned against the wall, arms folded but her gaze soft. "You're adapting well. Most groups would've panicked by now."
Phoebe had been unusually quiet, sharpening her longsword with slow, deliberate strokes. After a while, she glanced toward Instructor Veyra.
"You… mentioned your daughter once," Phoebe said, her tone softer than usual. "What's she like?"
The question caught a few of us off guard. Even Lex looked up from adjusting his gauntlets. Veyra wasn't the type to talk about herself.
But this time, she didn't deflect.
"She's called Elira," Veyra said after a pause. Her voice carried no hesitation, only a steady warmth. "She's twelve now. She's in Theron, in a care facility. It's a place near the southern gardens, they have healers who tend to her."
Nolan leaned forward slightly. "Care facility?"
Veyra nodded. Her eyes softened as the firelight caught them. "Elira was born with weak legs. Walking is hard, and running… impossible. But she never lets it weigh her down. She sketches, she reads, and she very quiet like Sol actually."
A chuckle rippled through the group. Even Lily cracked a smile.
"She sounds cute," Vivi said quietly.
"She is," Veyra replied, a flicker of pride showing through her usual stern composure. "She draws suns and birds for me in every letter. I keep them all. They're probably smudged to nothing by now."
For a moment, the fire crackled in companionable silence.
Lex tilted his head. "So… you took this job because of her?"
"Yes," Veyra admitted. She stirred the fire with the tip of her sword, embers sparking up. "The Academy pays more than any commission. It's enough to keep her safe, cared for. Principal Nicole Richards made sure of that when she hired me — she knew I wouldn't leave Elira unless there was a reason. Nicole… she has her way of seeing straight through people."
The Conversations continued forward, and after a while everyone fell asleep.
***
A next day began and we were sure that today we would find a exit, Partly because it looked like a small crypt. It was cramped in here.
Instead of leaving our things behind, today we decided to pack everything and take it with us.
After hours of hushed exploration finding murals, bones, strange half-rotted relics — We finally reached Something new.
A stair case