The night air was damp and sharp, stabbing into their lungs as they moved swiftly through the underground tunnel. The narrow walls were covered in moss, reeking of old iron and decay. On Joe’s back, Eliana lay weak but conscious, occasionally clutching his shoulders tightly, as if needing to confirm this wasn’t just a dream.

“Almost there,” Hunter muttered, running ahead while illuminating the path with a small flashlight.

The tunnel ended at a rusted iron door that led into the forest behind the estate. Hunter shoved it open with his shoulder, the hinges groaning loudly in protest.

As they stepped out, a gust of cold wind swept over them....