Illyana's POV
The sounds of the battle raging above echoed through the basement, a distant, distorted symphony of violence – the staccato bursts of gunfire, the shouts, the explosions – each one a hammer blow. Cole and Aurora huddled beside me, their faces grim, their eyes reflecting the flickering light of the single bare bulb that hung from the low ceiling, casting long, dancing shadows on the damp concrete walls.
Aurora looked at Cole. “The old servant’s passage,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s our only way out.”
Cole nodded, his gaze hardening, the fear in his eyes replaced by a spark of determination. “Lead the way,” he said, his voice firm.
She moved towards a far corner of the basement, her footsteps echoing in the silence, and pushed against a section of the damp
