Karfels

The cavern opens into a fissure of jagged rock where the planet’s oppressive regime has clawed its existence from the land. The air carries a mineral tang of worked stone and the stale warmth of breath trapped in rock-hewn spaces, its silence broken only by the skitter of unseen predators and the distant drip of water seeping through fissures in the ceiling. Walls slick with moisture reflect the dim glow of bioluminescent lichen clinging to the rock, its sickly light painting the cavern in patches of sickly green and bruised blue. The uneven floor slopes downward into deeper shadows, where the Borad’s regime has carved out spaces beyond the Citadel’s walls, spaces designed for surveillance and punishment rather than refuge. Every crevice and ledge seems positioned to conceal movement, the entire cavern a labyrinth of oppression where safety has been systematically stripped away.