"Can you navigate those tunnels?" Mamadou asked as they stood before the ancient door leading underground.

"We were blinded," Javohir groaned, interrupting his sentence, "when they were moving us from there."

"It will be fine. I still remember the directions," Bruno reassured them, opening the door without hesitation, revealing a stone staircase disappearing into the darkness.

Only the first few steps were visible in the sunlight; beyond that, everything was engulfed in shadows. Just as the young alchemist was about to descend, Mamadou placed a firm hand on his shoulder, halting him.

"These are very old tunnels, and there are nasty rumors about them. Only fools attempt to use them, so you need to be absolutely sure you know where you're going. Otherwise, we may never come out of there," the former assassin warned the young alchemist.

"I remember the path," the boy argued, freeing his shoulder with a determined gesture.

Without wasting another moment, Bruno began his descent into the darkness. Mamadou followed suit, emphasizing the need for silence, and Javohir, muffling his groans of pain, brought up the rear. They formed a line, grasping each other's garments to ensure they stayed together.

As the last man closed the door above, enveloping them in complete darkness, they were left blind to their surroundings. Even proceeding down the staircase carried its share of danger.

Inside the tunnels, the air was colder, devoid of any movement. The pervasive humidity and the stench of decay filled their senses. Bruno closed his eyes, drawing upon his memories of leaving this place, reversing the steps and directions in his mind. He simply had to retrace their path from the end to the beginning.

Confident in his recollection, Bruno led the group through the darkness without question, until they reached a door bathed in an eerie orange glow—an ethereal light trapped beyond the threshold.

Mamadou stepped closer to the boy, who opened his eyes, fully aware of what lay ahead.

"There is somebody inside," the teacher whispered. "I'll go first. Maybe I can take them down one by one without causing any commotion."

Bruno nodded, making room for the former assassin to move forward alongside him. Mamadou approached the door with the utmost care, opening it slowly and silently. He peered through the narrow crack before gradually sliding himself into the space. His movements were so deft that not a single sound escaped him.

As soon as the door closed behind the man, Bruno stepped forward, pressing his ear against the wooden surface, listening intently for any sign of trouble. His concern for his companion's safety kept him on edge, but for a prolonged moment, all he could hear was the occasional muted groan of pain from Javohir, accompanied by the boy's own labored breathing.

Then, abruptly, a series of peculiar noises emanated from behind the door—a crack, followed by a gurgling sound, and a barely audible thud that nearly escaped Bruno's notice.

"It's safe," came the assurance a short while later, as Mamadou's voice reached them. The young alchemist swung open the door, revealing a familiar corridor bathed in the warm glow of torchlight. The orange flickering cast dancing shadows across the walls, and though most of the cells were shrouded in darkness, they appeared to be vacant. The door at the far end, leading to Nirav's room, remained closed, while Mamadou stood nearby, wiping blood off his hands with the same fabric he had previously used to cover his face.

"Bring Javohir here. He needs to rest, and there's a functional bed inside," the man instructed his words confirming their safe entry. A pained groan escaped the boy behind Bruno, prompting the young alchemist to immediately turn around and assist his wounded companion, guiding him down the stairs.

It was a slow descent, allowing Javohir to vocalize the extent of his agony without restraint. Mamadou, in the meantime, placed all the lifeless bodies in one of the dimly lit cells, carefully concealing them from view. As Bruno helped Javohir settle into Nirav's room, he took a moment to survey the surroundings, his eyes catching sight of another door on the left side—an entrance he hadn't noticed during his previous visit to this forsaken place.

The interior of the room was dimly lit, with an old oil lamp standing on a small table as the sole source of illumination. A broken cabinet and a bed occupied the corner, the latter appearing to have been assembled in this very room. Its age, combined with the dampness, lent an unsettling aura. Nevertheless, it seemed to be the best available option for Javohir's reprieve, and so that was where they settled him.

"Try to move as little as possible. I'll get you something for the pain. I'm sure they had to have some booze stored here," Bruno informed his friend, his gaze immediately turning to the cabinet.

It was a stroke of luck, as inside he discovered a stash of clothes, a knife resting in a sheath, and a few bottles of cheap alcohol. Grabbing one of them, he swiftly returned to the suffering boy's side.

"It's not the best option given your condition, as it might worsen the bleeding, but it can also numb the pain. I doubt we have anything better at our disposal, so..." Bruno trailed off, presenting the bottle to Javohir.

"Th-thank you," the boy managed to utter through gritted teeth.

The young alchemist nodded and departed. His curiosity was now piqued, and he quickly sought out Mamadou in the corridor, ensuring that the door to Nirav's room was securely closed.

"What the fuck happened?" he blurted out, opening the conversation.

The former assassin gestured toward the recently sealed chamber with a tilt of his head.

"This idiot has a loose tongue. He said too much to Bug, and that rat spilled everything to Uncle Said. We had to fight our way out. Fortunately, the narrow corridors and their lack of information worked in our favor. However, they chased us through the city. Somehow, we managed to lose them, but they know the direction we were headed. It's only a matter of time before they find the hideout I prepared. Then they will start looking for us all over the city. I hope your pirate friends arrive soon," Mamadou explained, his anger barely restrained as he spoke in hushed tones.

"Fuck," Bruno muttered, the weight of the situation sinking in. "If they're not here yet, they should be arriving in a few days, even if they encountered delays."

"They're not. I had people watching for any pirate ships. None arrived at the port," Mamadou admitted.

The young alchemist let out a heavy sigh. The situation was dire, but not yet desperate.

"What are we going to do with him?" Bruno gestured toward Nirav's room with a nod of his head.

"I'm not killing that boy if that's what you're suggesting. Despite his stupidity, he remains loyal," Mamadou stated firmly.

"Well... that was one of my suggestions, but if it's off the table, we should at least find something to ease his pain. I found a bit of alcohol, but that's not the best remedy, considering he's bleeding," Bruno pointed out.

"I'll check the other room," Mamadou declared, wasting no time as he headed toward the door that Bruno had noticed earlier.

Inside the room designated for guards, they discovered two beddings on the floor and a few bags in the corner. Empty bottles were scattered about, but there was little else of significance. Mamadou swiftly gathered whatever seemed useful, to help possibly elevate Javohir's suffering.