The tunnel pressed on, stretching into darkness. A faint draft of air carried the smell of rust and something else—sweat, maybe. Daniel’s palms grew slick in his gloves. This wasn’t just an abandoned project. It was a pathway still in use, carved beneath his home, inching closer to some unseen destination.
Back at the surface, engineers compared notes, laying rulers across maps. The tunnel’s heading wasn’t random; it cut straight, purposeful, as if someone had planned every angle. Daniel traced the vector with his finger, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t heading toward town, nor to any known infrastructure.