Zza hit the ground harder than she meant to, claws skidding across something warm under her palms. The floor breathed under her. Actually breathed. A slow rise and fall like she'd landed on the chest of something huge and sleeping. Buzz slid beside her, his shell scraping across the surface, sparks snapping around his limbs where the maze's memory-light still clung to him.
He groaned, half furious, half exhausted, his voice cracking in places he probably didn't want to think about. "I swear this city hates us. It has personal beef or something."
Zza pushed herself up, blinking through the smoky haze drifting across the space. Her antennae twitched at a faint tremor—steady, rhythmic, too steady to be footsteps. Her stomach dropped.
"Buzz," she murmured, "you're hearing that, right?"
He froze mid-crawl. "If that's my heartbeat, I'm dying. If it's something else, I'm wishing I died five seconds ago."
