Chapter 94 - The Calm in the Dark

Panic, when caged, turns inwards. It festers. The forty of us stood frozen in the vast, swallowing darkness of the underground ruin, with the last glimpse of the world above appearing as a distant, jagged scar of grey light. The initial shock of survival wore off, leaving raw, terrified nerves exposed. The silence was worse than the roar of collapse—it was a listening silence, a waiting silence. And from within it, the weak, animal sounds of pain and fear began to leak: a girl's quiet, hyperventilating sobs; a boy muttering prayers over and over; the sharp gasp of someone putting weight on a twisted ankle.