The torches lining the stone corridor flickered faintly as Kia walked through, his dark robes whispering across the floor. The sound of his boots echoed against the cold walls — a slow, steady rhythm that spoke of control, not haste. Two guards followed closely behind, their heads bowed, not daring to breathe too loudly.

He stopped before a small iron door and turned slightly. “Open it,” he said softly.

The guard fumbled with the keys, the metal clinking nervously. The lock gave way ...