The rhythmic sound drew closer, a heavy, scraping thud that reverberated through the stone, shivering against Malphas’s spine. It was not the elegant, airy stride of the Architect, but something terrestrial and famished. Malphas pressed his hand against the wall of the chamber, feeling the cool, polished glass surface. He could perceive the city above as a faint, humming vibration, but the immediate reality was the dark, narrowing tunnel before them.
"It is not Valerius," Lyra whispered, her voice barely audible above the wet, tearing sounds echoing from the gloom. She leaned into him, her shoulder brushing his, a small anchor of warmth in the suffocating tomb of their own making.
"No," Malphas agreed, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. "This is something that lived beneath Valer
