The descent into the heart of the "Cradle" was a journey back to a primeval silence. The black carbon-fiber walls of the pyramid didn't reflect the light from Alessandro’s torch; they seemed to drink it, leaving the beam weak and flickering. The air was a freezing, industrial chill that tasted of ozone and sterile chemicals—a jarring contrast to the heavy, rotting heat of the jungle they had just left behind. As they moved deeper into the mountain, the rhythmic humming of the forest was replaced by a deep, tectonic vibration that felt like the purr of a sleeping god.
Seraphina moved at the front of the group, her gait eerily precise. She didn't stumble over the uneven floor, and she didn't hesitate at the intersections of the dark corridors. To her, the pyramid wasn't a maze; it was a fam
