Basement Level -1008 – Silence, Ash, A Start from Nothing

Hana descends a narrow, metal staircase. The air is hot. Stifling. The scent of burning and old steam fills the space. When the door opens, a vast underground hall appears—no one is there. Only the hiss of pipes and the whistle of steam.

They hand her a rusted shovel. In front of her is a massive tank, its mouth open, surrounded by large, heavy coals. The task is simple but grueling: shovel the coal into the tank so the flame and steam can rise.

She sweats, bends her back, her hands turning black.

In a corner, a broom begins sweeping by itself. It moves back and forth, as if it has a sense of awareness. Then—from beneath its bristles, a voice murmurs. Not clear, not quite human. A faint, tired, but familiar whisper.

The broom mutters:

– “The witch… only made us work, gave us nothing.”

– “That night the full moon rose, she threw someone into the pot with her own hands…”

– “At midnight, when everyone sleeps, the city’s gates open.”

– “But only until six in the morning. Then they lock. And there’s no way out…”

Hana listens. First in confusion, then with curiosity.