GRACE POV
The tunnels beneath the university were nothing like the maps suggested.
They weren’t clean, or linear, or logical in any way that made sense to a modern campus built on grants, planning committees, and architectural reviews. They were older than all of that—dug, expanded, reinforced, abandoned, and reused in layers that didn’t care about symmetry or safety codes. Stone walls gave way to brick without warning, iron supports appeared where they shouldn’t have been, the ceiling lowering and rising unpredictably, forcing us to slow down, to adjust our pace, to stay constantly aware of where we placed our feet.
The deeper we went, the more it felt like trespassing.
Not just physically, but conceptually—like we were moving through a space that had never been meant to be rediscover
