My legs are weak, but I’ve made it to the secret house underground. Each step down the hidden stairway tested my strength, muscles trembling from the journey through the forest and the climb down the concealed trapdoor. Dust swirls in the dim light as I catch my breath, heart pounding not just from exhaustion, but awe. Walls of stone and ancient wood frame a sanctuary untouched by time—faded maps, flickering candles, a table set as if waiting. Pain fades into purpose. This place, forgotten by the world, chose me. And though my body falters, my spirit stands tall. I’m here. The underground house knows my name.
