The panel eased open another inch on its own, exhaling after decades of holding its breath. A cool, dry draft drifted out, carrying the faint scent of old circuit boards and something sweeter—almost like warm bread left too long in a forgotten toaster. Griffydd knelt, shining his scavenged headlamp into the gap. Dust motes drifted in soft, bioluminescent glows from the walls themselves. No flickering bulbs. No cables. Just a steady, almost breathing light.
Elin crouched beside him. "That's not our algae."
Valley whistled low. "Looks like the Hollow's been keeping a night-light on for someone."
Jake padded forward, nose thrust into the opening, tail flicking in short, decisive bursts. He tapped the concrete with his front paw, letting out a jittery mouth-click—the crew's early-warning signal. Griffydd followed the dog's gaze and froze. The faintest pulse of movement along the panel—slow, deliberate, like a slow breath.
Griffydd hesitated. Every instinct screamed: observe, map, never rush. But the panel had moved itself. That changed the rules.
"We gear up," he said finally. "Properly. And we bring the others."
Valley grinned. "About time we stopped treating this place like a museum."
⸻
The alcove outside the panel buzzed with the quiet chaos of preparation. Scarab arrived first, helmet crooked, goggles fogged, pockets bulging with screws, wire scraps, and whatever random shiny thing he could find. "Heard there's fresh real estate," he said, rubbing his hands. "Anybody claim dibs yet?"
Mad lumbered in, dragging a coil of rope over one shoulder and a dented metal toolbox in the other. "If there's loot, I call heavy lifting. Means I get first pick of anything edible."
Andrea slipped in last, silent as ever, eyes scanning the alcove, calculating, cataloguing. She carried nothing but a slim multitool and a smirk that suggested she'd already divvied up everyone's share in her head.
Valley set up a portable speaker, static crackling. A muffled guitar riff leapt out—big 80s hair-rock drums, fuzzy amps. "Atmosphere," he declared. "Can't explore without a soundtrack."
Elin rolled her eyes but said nothing. Griffydd raised an eyebrow at Valley, who answered with an innocent shrug.
Griffydd laid out the plan: single file, tethered, lamps low, no unnecessary noise. Map, grab, exit. Simple.
Simple lasted exactly twelve minutes.
⸻
The corridor beyond the panel was narrower than expected, forcing sidesteps in places. Walls shifted from smooth concrete to older brick, intertwined with cable bundles added decades apart. Small niches held dusty supply boxes: military ration tins from a war long forgotten, sealed battery packs faintly charged, even yellowed magazines promising "The Future Is Now!"
Scarab grinned like a child in a candy store. "Virgin territory! Untouched!"
Mad pried a crate open. "Beans and ham, 1998… still good?"
Andrea flicked a glance, read the label, tossed it back. "You'll live. Or you won't. Either way, we'll know soon."
Valley hummed along with the tinny speaker, foot tapping in sync with the pipes, which faintly answered.
Jake paused, nose pressed to cracks in the floor, circling, tapping. Twice he guided them around suspicious ceiling panels, sagging under the slightest touch. Once, he froze, whiskers twitching, staring at a dark niche where the bioluminescent glow dimmed. Griffydd shined his lamp—a brief shadow shifted, or maybe just dust settling.
"Not random," he muttered.
"Or maybe the Hollow's got a sense of humour," Valley said. "Jealous of your keyboard skills, old man."
Elin shook her head. "Stop anthropomorphizing."
⸻
The corridor opened into a junction chamber. In its centre stood a waist-high terminal—sleek, black, perfectly out of place. Its surface was spotless, save for a soft amber light pulsing slowly.
Griffydd approached first. The others fanned out, lamps scanning corners. The screen flickered to life. Letters formed in blocky green phosphor:
SAFE PATH →
FOLLOW LIGHT
An arrow pointed down the corridor.
Then, lower on the screen, a single word appeared and vanished almost too quickly to read:
PEPITA
Valley's hum stopped mid-bar. Elin blinked. "Did anyone else see that?"
Scarab reached out. "It's warm… like it's been waiting."
Jake sat, tail thumping once. He looked back at the crew, then the arrow, then the crew again. Signal received.
Mad shifted. "I don't like things that type on their own."
Andrea whispered, "It knew we were coming."
Griffydd felt obsession stir. Not random noise. Directed.
Before anyone could argue, the lights they'd strung along the corridor dimmed in sequence behind them. A low rumble rolled through the floor.
"Structure settling," Scarab said, too quickly.
Valley's hands were quiet on his tools. "Or someone closing the door behind us."
Dust fell from the ceiling. A zig-zag crack ran across brick overhead.
"Time to move," Griffydd said.
They moved.
The retreat was frantic—ropes snapping taut as Mad slipped on loose gravel, Andrea cursing when her lamp caught a widening fissure, Scarab clutching his bulging pack like a lifeline. Jake ran point, guiding them unerringly back to the panel entrance.
They burst into the familiar alcove just as a heavier thud echoed behind them—part of the corridor collapsing, sealing itself.
The panel slid shut with a soft, final click. The bioluminescent glow vanished. Dust settled.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Valley let out a low laugh. "Well. That was a hell of a first date."
Mad dropped his toolbox with a clang. "I vote we never call it back."
Scarab was already cataloguing his haul. "Speak for yourself. I got three unopened battery bricks and something that looks like a portable EMP grenade."
Elin looked at Griffydd. "That message. Safe path. Pepita. You saw it too."
He nodded slowly. "It wasn't a recording. It reacted to us."
Andrea's eyes narrowed. "Or it's been waiting for us specifically."
Jake padded over to the now-sealed panel, sat, and stared at it expectantly. His tail thumped once. Twice.
Valley rested a hand on the dog's head. "Easy, furball. Message received."
Griffydd felt the weight of every gaze settle on him.
Tomorrow they'd need the whole crew. Tomorrow they'd follow the arrow.
Tonight, the Hollow had whispered its first word.
And it knew their names.