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The tunnel grew smaller as they continued. Rodin crouched as he followed the others.
“How long did you say this would take?” one of the warriors asked.
“A couple of hours in total.” Cat’s voice was monotone, delivering the same answer he’d given last time this warrior asked the same question. Already, Rodin was sick of the man.
Bear, he called himself. Another animal. Seemed to be a thing with the warriors from the western Factory. Along for this mission, beside Bear, there was a Panther, a Cockroach (they called him Roach) and an Eagle.
Animals. Less than human. That figured—taking insults and wearing them as a badge of honour.
Rodin’s shoulder-mounted torch played over the curved walls, many of the tiles broken, fragments littering the concrete flooring. Ancient, but a
