Never Make Decisions For Them!

Lu Chi took a deep breath, turned sideways, and squeezed into the crack.

The moment he entered, the light changed from grayish white to dark gray. The stone walls pressed close on either side, his shoulders nearly scraping against them. The rock surface was uneven and pitted, and some spots jabbed his arms painfully.

After three steps, the light grew dimmer.

After five, the sounds outside faded, leaving only his own breathing and footsteps. His footsteps bounced back and forth between the stone walls, making it sound as though more than one person was walking.

After seven, he felt the air around him change. It was not cold, but heavy, as if something invisible were pressing down on him. It was not a great weight, but it made him uncomfortable.

He paused halfway through a step and pressed a hand against the stone wall beside him. The rock was cold, but unnaturally so—not ordinary chill, but the kind of cold that had not seen light for a very, very long time. It felt like touching a piece of iron that had been buried underground for decades.

He withdrew his hand and continued forward.

When the rope had just gone taut, he stopped. He could still proceed ahead; the crack had not narrowed. Yet there was almost no light left, only an impossibly thin gray line overhead, like a thread about to snap.

Standing there, he extended his senses.

About twenty paces ahead, the space suddenly widened. It was not merely that the crack became a little broader—it opened up all at once, like stepping from a narrow alley into a courtyard. The airflow there was chaotic. It did not surge outward, but spun in circles, like an invisible vortex drawing everything around it toward the center.

The moment his senses