I'll Follow You Down Now
The fall wasn't a clean drop; it was a desperate scramble. He caught a rusted service rail, the jolt nearly tearing his arm from its socket, and began the long climb into the belly of the world.
Elias didn't look back. He tightened the straps of his rebreather, the rubber tasting of salt and old copper. He remembered Lena’s hand in his three nights ago, her fingers trembling as she whispered about a signal she’d found—a ghost in the machine calling from the deep. She had gone to find the source. She hadn't come back. I'll Follow You Down
"I know," he said, the weight of the miles above them finally feeling light. "I told you. Wherever you go, " The fall wasn't a clean drop; it was a desperate scramble
