The Room Without Maps

 
The upstairs room wasn’t much—just a rectangular shell with a humming resonance lantern, a warped table, and chairs that looked allergic to comfort.

Draven Holt stood at the head of the table, a projection already flickering to life beside him. Lin Sorell adjusted the emitter without being asked, fingers dancing across the pad like muscle memory.

Gaius and Vell took their seats. Lyra didn’t. She lingered near the far wall, eyes on the shifting map projection.

> “You’ve likely heard,” Draven began, “but none of the previous teams returned.”

> “Heard it,” Gaius said. “Also heard one team tried turning back. Lost signal before the third marker.”

Draven nodded. “Every expedition that reached the deeper Hollow vanished. No transmissions. No drones returned. Data cores scrambled. Artifacts dead. Last clean readings stopped at what we now call the resonance fold. Beyond that—scrap.”

> “So,” Vell said, leaning back, “why send in a handful of people now instead of a battalion?”

> “Because no one wants the job anymore,” Draven replied flatly. “Not even for triple hazard pay. This mission is voluntary only. You’re the only ones who didn’t back out.”

Gaius folded his arms. “Why haven’t I signed up yet?”

> “I’ve got more... things to do.”

> “So I’m supposed to handle everything while dragging two nerds through the woods?”

> “Vell can put up a fight in close quarters,” Draven said.

Gaius raised an eyebrow.

> “And Lyra?”

Draven glanced at her. She was still watching the map, unmoved.

> “We didn’t actually want her to go,” he said. “She insisted. Wants to catalog firsthand anomalies. Besides, she can show you how to use the gear we’re issuing.”

Gaius blinked. “She can show me how to use the toys?”

> “And she cooks,” Draven added.

Gaius turned to Vell.

> “She cooks?”

> “Real good,” Vell muttered.

Draven continued, as if that sealed the matter.

> “We also deployed a scout ahead of you. Serra Claine. She’s on public detail, assigned to patrol the border route. Officially, her presence keeps bandits off the trail. Unofficially—she’s there to make sure no one gets in your way. Highly capable. If you don’t trust Vell, trust her.”

Gaius didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the map. One blinking dot. No return trail.

> "What’s she look like?"

> "You’ll know her when you see her. Blond, light gear, carries herself like she’s already been through the worst of it."

Gaius nodded slowly.

> “Right,” he said eventually. “Because it always starts clean.”