“You are hereby sentenced to the surface to live eternity among the Walkers,” declares the Underworld Caretaker, slamming his druidic scepter into the obsidian floor—not once, not twice, but three times. The sharp, echoing cracks out like a death knell across the chamber.The care taker floats above us—an unnerving figure cloaked in a shroud of darkness. His face is bone-white, painted like a skull, and his voice carries the hollow weight of final judgment. Silence falls over the crowd, thick and tense. Onlookers watch with a mixture of awe and horror, craning for a better view of the condemned.They’ve come to see me.Today, I—Anika Rhodes—am exiled. Every eye in the room is fixed on me. Usually, I’d shrink under such scrutiny, but not today. Today, I don’t care. Because exile isn’t a punishment. It’s freedom. It’s a life above ground, away from the dread of the Underworld. Away from the chains, the rituals, the watching shadows. It’s a chance, however slim, to be something more tha
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