The Underworks did not hiss that morning. It breathed.
Air moved with the patient rhythm of places that have learned how to keep going. Cables hung like vines. Steam lifted from a food cart where someone scraped a pan with the stubborn tenderness of earning. Children chased a ball stitched from fabric and wire - when it hit a wall it made a soft clank and a burst of laughter. A woman argued prices with a vendor and lost by a coin but smiled anyway. Poverty had its hands in everything, but fear had loosened its grip. The alleys were still narrow, still wet in places, but the shadows felt like shade instead of threat.
Kori led, not fast. She kept her hands in her pockets as if that alone could keep the world calm. Raizen walked a half step behind, Hikari beside him, Lynea quiet as a held breath at his other shoulder. They took turns not talking. The Underworks did enough speaking for all of them.
"Doesn't feel like a battlefield anymore" Raizen said finally, barely above the hum.
