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| Drops of water were now falling onto our torch. The fire was on the verge of going out. | |
| We were standing in a narrow tunnel — so narrow that the professor’s shoulder had scraped against the stone, and Hans’s back kept hitting the ceiling. My breathing became erratic. The oxygen in this tunnel tasted different — as if the air belonged to another time. | |
| Then something happened… something that sent ice down our spines. | |
| The mouth of the tunnel behind us had sealed shut. | |
| There was no sound, no tremor. The passage we had just come through was now packed with stones, as if the path had never existed. | |
| “How… how is this possible?” I muttered. | |
| The professor raised the torch higher, and in that flickering light, we saw something — scratch marks on the wall of the tunnel. As if someone — or something — had tried to claw its way out using nails or talons. | |
| Hans spoke in a trembling voice, “These marks… they’re fresh.” | |
| I stepped closer to the wall and touched it — the rock was damp, and the scratches were indeed fresh. Someone… or something… had tried to escape through here. | |
| The professor took a deep breath. “These are not just natural formations, Axel. These paths… they think.” | |
| “They think?” I asked, shocked. | |
| “Yes… sometimes they open, sometimes they close. Some force down here is guiding us — and it wants us to go somewhere.” | |
| I took the torch and stepped deeper into the tunnel. Water squelched under my heel, and the air was thick with a strange smell — something like decay… or perhaps something long buried. | |
| Then we heard it — a faint, constant rustling… like something massive was crawling, far beneath us. | |
| (Flashback) | |
| Two weeks ago, we had arrived in Reykjavík. The capital of Iceland — calm on the surface, but we knew we were only guests there for a few days. After that, our journey would lead downward — far, far below. | |
| We had packed only the essentials: dried food, water, torches, and a map — the same map that pointed to the mouth of an extinct volcano, said to be the key to our journey. | |
| The professor was content. He wasn’t just chasing the secrets of the Earth — he was seeking proof of his knowledge. | |
| Me? I only cared about finding the way back. | |
| A sound echoed in the tunnel again — closer now. | |
| The three of us pressed together. The torch flickered. Holding our breath, we listened. | |
| And then… we saw a shadow move. | |
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