The door remained shut long after the King and Rhaikor left.

  Their footsteps had vanished, but the weight of their words lingered like a slow-fading echo.

  No one spoke at first.

  Rowan rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a long exhale.

  Lira sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall.

  Tidewhisper leaned back with his arms crossed, eyes closed, processing the revelation in his own quiet way.

  Pyrope felt his heartbeat slow from its earlier panic, but the heaviness inside him remained.

  Finally, Tidewhisper stood and clapped his hands lightly.

  “Alright,” he said, trying to break the silence, “that is enough doom for one morning.”

  Lira blinked. Rowan looked up.

  Tidewhisper continued, gentler this time:

  “You all need a break. A real break. Your bodies are exhausted, and your minds look worse.”

  He glanced at Pyrope.

  “And you especially.”

  Pyrope lowered his eyes, unsure how to respond.

  “So.” Tidewhisper made a small gesture toward the door. “Let’s take this moment as… a vacation. Even if it’s only temporary.”

  Rowan shook his head.

  “I’ll stay. These legs have carried too many miles this week.”

  Tidewhisper nodded. He already expected that answer.

  “Good. Rest. Your heart needs it more than your body.”

  Rowan chuckled weakly.

  Lira stood and stretched.

  “Well… the Rabbit Kingdom is right outside this door. Might as well see it.”

  Tidewhisper smiled. “Exactly.”

  Pyrope hesitated.

  Lira looked back.

  “Come with us? A walk might help clear your head.”

  Pyrope nodded slowly.

  “…Alright.”

  They stepped out of the room.

  The Underground Kingdom

  The moment they exited the healing ward, the atmosphere changed completely.

  Warm light spilled from future-tech lamps embedded along the curving hallway—soft gold, dim enough to be calming, bright enough to illuminate every detail.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The underground kingdom felt alive.

  Voices echoed from far below. The faint rumble of machinery vibrated through the floor. Cold underground air mixed with a warm herbal scent drifting from nearby chambers.

  Tidewhisper inhaled deeply.

  “Rabbit craftsmanship,” he said. “Precise. Quiet. Always with purpose.”

  The hallway opened into a massive chamber.

  Pyrope and Lira both halted in place.

  Three enormous shafts rose upward like hollow towers, stretching all the way to the unseen surface. Mechanical platforms and ropes moved constantly—workers ascending and descending with materials strapped to their backs.

  Some platforms carried stone.

  Others carried soil.

  Others carried beams and metal strips.

  Lira whispered, “They’re… rebuilding the surface.”

  Tidewhisper nodded slowly.

  “Restoration work. Something must have happened above.”

  Pyrope watched as rabbit hybrids sprinted up the vertical beams faster than human legs should allow, their movements rhythmic and practiced.

  “Impressive,” Lira murmured.

  “They’re born for it,” Tidewhisper replied. “Vertical terrain… tight spaces… quiet pathways.”

  A gust of wind blew downward as one platform dropped past them.

  It made Pyrope’s ears twitch naturally—he straightened instinctively, though he didn’t understand why that reaction felt so familiar.

  Lira noticed but said nothing.

  Training Grounds

  A side passage opened into a wide training field.

  Rows of young rabbit monks stood barefoot on polished stone. Some practiced stances, others sparred with wooden poles, their movements quiet but sharp.

  A trainer walked past, adjusting postures with simple taps.

  Tidewhisper watched with an approving hum.

  “They start young,” he said. “Rabbit Kingdom specializes in agility and recovery techniques. Their healers are trained from childhood.”

  Lira crossed her arms.

  “Do you think they could help Pyrope more than the usual kingdoms?”

  Tidewhisper didn’t answer right away. Instead he watched Pyrope carefully.

  “Perhaps,” he finally said. “But healing is not only technique. The patient must want to heal.”

  Pyrope looked away.

  He didn’t argue.

  Street Food & Lights

  They continued walking deeper into the kingdom.

  Small food stalls lined the path—simple wooden counters with warm lantern-lights hovering above them. Most of the dishes were vegetable-based: stir-fried roots, steamed leafy greens, mushroom broth simmering in clay pots.

  The smell made Pyrope pause.

  It felt familiar.

  A soft memory tugged at him—warmth, herbs, a warm kitchen—but he couldn’t grasp it.

  Lira tapped his shoulder.

  “You want something?”

  He shook his head gently.

  Tidewhisper chuckled.

  “Rabbit cuisine might feel nostalgic for him. Let him be.”

  The lamps above shifted color from warm gold to cool white as the path descended.

  A design choice, Tidewhisper explained—white light means deeper underground, gold means closer to the main settlement.

  The deeper they went, the quieter it became.

  The air cooled.

  The sounds softened.

  People moved carefully, mindful of echoes in enclosed spaces.

  Pyrope felt calmer with each step.

  The Elder

  As they approached a crossing, a group of monks passed by—young, focused, carrying scrolls and herbs.

  Then another group.

  Then a trio of healers.

  But the last figure made Pyrope stop without understanding why.

  An elder monk walked slowly, leaning slightly on a wooden staff carved with flowing patterns. His robe was older than the others, a deeper shade, worn but clean.

  His eyes drifted across the hallway—

  And stopped directly on Pyrope.

  Lira noticed his pause.

  Tidewhisper did too.

  The elder took a step closer.

  His gaze was not suspicious or aggressive.

  It was… curious. Deep. As if he saw something beneath the surface.

  Pyrope swallowed.

  The elder monk finally spoke, voice calm but carrying weight.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  His eyes never left Pyrope.

  “…young rabbit, I need to speak with you.”