The transition from the Parliament basement to the cathedral’s hidden depths was a descent into a literal and figurative underworld. The air didn't just grow colder; it turned stagnant, smelling of ancient dust, floor wax, and the sharp ozone tang of high voltage cooling systems. Marry Sonoko stood before the final barrier a heavy iron door that looked like a relic of the 19th century but was shielded by a biometric override that hummed with a predatory, low frequency.
"Stay close, Leo," Nala whispered, her voice a low vibration that seemed to anchor him in the suffocating darkness.
Marry Sonoko didn't look back. Her focus was entirely on the locking mechanism, her fingers moving with the practiced precision of a woman who had designed the very cage she was now breaking into. She pulled
