Lantern-Bearing Resolve

A hush clung to the cavern until the paperclip strode in, scarf slicing the damp air like a banner of pure defiance. Its lantern glowed with a warmth that tasted faintly of caramel light, spilling gold over rocks and mushrooms swollen from centuries of dripping patience. Every sharp shadow leaned upward, as if pleading for daylight. Behind, a crouched figure traced signs in the grit, whispering the question scrawled on stone: Where Vojta? Both paths beckoned—one coiled high to the right, where a gleaming silhouette pranced like a dare; the other tunneled left into inkier riddles. Time pinned itself mid-breath, droplets frozen in descent, and in that stillness hope ballooned louder than fear. Even the stalagmites felt like steps for anyone bold enough to keep climbing. Yet no echo answered their call, only the steady thrum of dripping silence. Vojta’s name lingered in the lantern’s halo, vivid, urgent, and painfully unsolved.