Captain Halric dragged his stonesteel shield against the tunnel wall, not for balance, but because the sound of metal on rock was the only way he knew he was walking in a straight line.
The darkness down here wasn't just an absence of light. It had weight. It pressed against the eyes, thick and absolute, swallowing the glow of the four luminescent lanterns his squad carried as if the air itself was hungry for it.
"Fifty paces," whispered the guide.
The guide's name was Nym. That was what Halric called him, anyway. The Pallid didn't use names the way surface-dwellers did — they used tonal frequencies that vibrated through the sinus cavities, impossible for a Human to replicate. Nym was pale to the point of translucence, hairless, eyes entirely pupil. His skin emitted a faint, pulsing blue-white bioluminescence that matched the patches of moss clinging to the ceiling.
