The Light That Fills the Gaps in a Lost Past

The day after we cleared the thirtieth floor.

I was walking alone through a dimly lit alley.

After winding through several turns, I arrived at the clan house of the information clan, the Silver Rats.

A hideout for heroes who had once raced through the deep floors.

It looked like an old fortress.

Its outer walls were built of black stone, and every window was fitted with sturdy iron bars.

When I rang the doorbell, I heard a bolt being drawn back from inside.

Then the iron door creaked open.

The spacious first-floor hall was surprisingly clean and tidy.

Handrails lined the walls to make it easier for those with mobility issues to get around, and the old wooden floor had been polished...