Broken Illusions
And within that silence, something was listening.
The breach point was buried beneath the snow, a solid plate of ice cracked open with slow, patient cutting tools. The tunnel they melted wide enough for two. Below, the walls changed. Ice gave way to veins—black, ridged, like living metal. Synthetic chitin and steel pulsed under their hands.
Torin crouched beside the wall, placing a gloved palm against it. “This… isn’t built. It’s grown.”
Eleni stepped in, wide-eyed. “This isn’t Mara,” she said, awe and horror folding her voice. “This is evolution.”
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