The day had finally arrived. The group was preparing to head to the Lost House, carrying only the essentials, some spare clothes, snacks, and a few items they might need for work.


    There was no need to overpack, and they all placed it inside Azrael’s empty space. They left early in the morning, just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of gold and pink.


    With breakfast already out of the way, they started their journey. None of them were entirely sure what time they were expected to arrive, but they had a backup plan. If Creselya wasn’t there yet, they would wait it out at a nearby restaurant.


    To their surprise, as they neared the Lost House, a lone figure stood out front. Even from a distance, it was unmistakably Creselya. She stood tall and poised against the backdrop of the imposing building.


    Carl leaned toward Azrael with a mischievous smirk. “Damn, she woke up early just to greet us,” he teased, chuckling softly.


    Mika’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp. “Can you take this seriously for once?”


    Carl placed his hands behind his head in a carefree manner and shrugged. “I’m only handling papers, Mika. Not exactly life-or-death stuff. No need to get so worked up.”


    Azrael offered Carl a supportive smile, while Jarred sighed, covering his face with one hand in exasperation. Mika, on the other hand, didn’t bother replying.


    She simply shook her head and continued walking, as though the brief exchange hadn’t even happened.


    As they approached Creselya, she greeted them with a slight bow, her crimson eyes gleaming in the morning light. “Greetings,” she said smoothly, her voice warm yet commanding. “I’m glad to see all of you here again.” She gestured toward the entrance. “Come inside. I’ll show you to your work areas.”


    The group followed her without hesitation. Creselya led them through the house, stopping first to assign Carl to his position. It was no surprise to anyone, his workspace was on the upper floor.


    Ascending the grand staircase, Creselya directed them to a door on the right. Beyond it lay a vast room bustling with activity.


    Rows of small workstations stretched across the space, each separated by just enough room for two people to pass side by side.


    The air was filled with the quiet hum of concentration, as countless individuals bent over their paperwork in their own designated spaces. Each workstation bore a small number for easy identification.


    Creselya handed Carl a slip of paper with a number written on it.


    With a calm smile, she gestured for him to head toward his assigned spot. “This is your workspace. Follow me. The rest of you will wait here.”


    Carl let out a resigned sigh, dragging his feet as he followed Creselya. He glanced back at the group every few seconds, his expression comically pitiful.


    Mika wrinkled her nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with him?” she muttered. “There are plenty of people here doing paperwork. It can’t be that hard.”


    Jarred shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe he’s upset about working alone?”


    Azrael nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”


    Mika paused, considering their words before letting out a sigh. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was a bit too harsh earlier... Was I?”


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    After a few minutes, Creselya approached the group, her footsteps echoing softly. With a playful grin, she remarked, “I think your friend is enjoying his little workspace.”


    Mika raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”


    Creselya casually walked past them, her confidence unwavering. “You’ll see later,” she said cryptically before gesturing for them to follow. “Come on.”


    Without another word, the group fell in line behind her, letting curiosity guide their steps. They stopped in front of a sturdy wooden door, where a man stationed beside it pulled out a key and unlocked the entrance.


    Jarred’s eyes lingered on the man’s hand, noticing the key, a realization dawned on him. This wasn’t the only door Dabric had access to.


    Others, including this man and possibly Creselya herself, held keys to these hidden passageways.


    As the elevator doors opened, the group entered and descended deep underground. The mechanical hum of the elevator was the only sound accompanying their descent.


    When they stepped out, Creselya took the lead, guiding them to one of the tunnels on the left.


    Like the others, it was lined with rows of ominous, empty cells stretching into the shadows.


    At the far end of the tunnel stood a reinforced metal door, its surface cold and unyielding.


    Creselya pushed the door open, revealing a spacious room bathed in muted light. Wooden cabinets lined the area, each spaced apart like sentinels.


    Between them were long wooden benches, inviting but useful. Covered inside each cabinet was pristine white clothing, stark against the dim surroundings.


    Creselya stepped up to three adjacent cabinets, her expression calm but authoritative. “These cabinets are yours. I arranged them close together so it’ll be easier for the three of you.”


    She gestured toward two doors at the far end of the room. Above each door hung a sign: Men and Women.


    “That’s the restroom,” Creselya explained. “It’s a large space, so feel free to explore. There’s also a dressing room inside.”


    Mika eyed the white garments hanging in their cabinets and asked, “What’s this cloth for?”


    “That’s your uniform,” Creselya responded matter-of-factly. She held out her hand, revealing several small keys. “Here, take these. They’re for the cell doors in the tunnels.”


    The group hesitated briefly, exchanging wary looks. But after a pause, they each took a key, the cold metal pressing against their palms.


    Creselya smiled again, her tone light but tinged with amusement. “Your work is simple, really. There are five tunnels in total. The middle one is where the carriage passes through, it leads to the far edge of Tancki Valley, near the coast.”


    The group listened closely, the weight of her words sinking in. No one interrupted, their focus unwavering as Creselya continued.


    “The tunnel next to it is my office,” she said, her grin widening. “You’re already familiar with that one. We call it the ‘Document Section Tunnel.’ I’m sure you can guess why.”


    The group nodded collectively. Of course, they already understood. Creselya’s office had walls covered in papers and documents, and Carl’s work was directly tied to that tunnel.


    Satisfied with their response, Creselya moved on. “The next tunnel is the ‘Food Storage Tunnel.’ Its name is pretty self-explanatory, everything you need is stored there.”


    Mika tilted her head, her voice calm but examining. “What’s the food for?”


    Though Mika suspected the answer, she asked anyway, hoping to gather more information while pretending ignorance.


    “You’ll find out soon enough,” Creselya replied enigmatically. Mika didn’t press further, simply nodding in acknowledgment.


    Creselya continued, “Then there’s this tunnel. We call it the ‘Clothing section Tunnel.’ The names are deliberately straightforward, so workers can easily memorize them.”


    Her logic was sound, practicality over complexity. The names served their purpose well.


    Finally, Creselya’s expression shifted slightly as she spoke her last words. “The other tunnel, next to this one, is called the ‘Punishment Tunnel.’”


    The name sent a chill down their spines. Unease settled over the group like a heavy fog. The word “punishment” carried an ominous weight, unlike the functional names of the other tunnels.


    If its purpose followed the same naming logic, then did this tunnel truly serve as a place for punishment? The thought was chilling, unsettling, and left the group with more questions than answers.