Angela Diaboli and the Heart of New Eden

Silas drags a dead intruder out of the stairwell by one ankle and heaves the body into the dark. The metal landing rings with the impact. Somewhere deeper in the tower, something scrapes back.

Angela reaches the landing as Brutus braces a bent gate with both hands, the floor slick with rainwater and grit. The air tastes sharp, like burnt wires.

Silas turns at once, pale eyes cutting into the shadowed corridor. He lifts a hand, and the nearest torchlight shivers over old concrete and hanging cables.

Down the hall, a wet knock echoes once, then twice, as if someone is tapping from behind a sealed door. Silas shifts his stance, ready to move.

Silas jerks his chin toward the corridor and moves first. The wet knock comes again from behind the sealed door, steady and patient.

Angela follows at once, boots splashing through the slick landing as the torchlight stretches thin over the cables.

Brutus stays at the stairs, one hand braced on the bent gate, the other raised to signal silence down below.

The corridor narrows around them. Rust flakes from the wall as something heavy shifts behind the door.

He stops at the seal, shoulders squared, listening for the next knock.

Angela drives her boot into the seam. The seal shudders, then blows inward with a shriek of warped metal.

Rust rain and dust burst into the corridor, and the door slams back against the dark room beyond.

Silas steps aside, blade-ready, eyes fixed on the opening.

From inside comes a sudden scrape, then a wet, dragged breath. Something in the room has heard them.

Down below, distant metal clangs once, sharp and nervous, while the tower holds its silence around the open door.