Under the Heiress' Facade

Hera reacted swiftly and clutched the vine. However, the branch tore through her sleeve and sent a sharp pain shooting up her arm.

Just as her other hand scrambled for a foothold, the vine snapped unexpectedly, causing her to plummet. With a resounding crash, Hera landed on bent knees to brace herself against the impact.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Despite the fall, she managed to grab enough vines to avoid a worse fate, though both of her palms were now scraped raw and stinging.

Ignoring the pain, Hera surveyed her surroundings. Above her, a narrow strip of sky marked the crevice she had fallen from, now hundreds of feet above and out of sight.

Sunlight filtered through, casting an eerie glow downward, revealing what appeared to be a gaping maw in the mountain.

Hera wouldn't have noticed that there was such a large opening on the upper ground if she hadn't accidentally stepped into thin air.

The split in the mountain seemed almost naturally formed, opening into a vast, semi-oval space that looked partly excavated. It seemed bottomless and shadowy within.

A small stream flowed with crystal-clear mountain water among the scattered rocks on the ground. Alongside the stream, a few plump, giant rats cautiously watched her.

After ensuring it was safe, Hera went to the stream to wash her hands and face. She took a few refreshing sips of the ice-cold water that was almost painfully cold against her lips.

Hera's arm was still bleeding, so she ripped a strip from her torn sleeve to bandage the wound.

Her jacket was left above ground, leaving her in just a thin sweater that was now torn at the sleeves. As time passed, the chill of the cave began to set in.

With dusk approaching and the knowledge that it would only get colder after nightfall, Hera needed to leave the place as soon as possible.

Retracing her steps back up seemed impractical, so Hera followed the mountain water flow downstream. Her movement startled a few giant rats that scurried deeper into the darkness.

Eventually, she reached a small pond where the stream converged. She observed that its flow was directed back toward the excavated space behind her.

There seemed to be a second layer beneath, but it appeared deep and foreboding. As it was shrouded in darkness, Hera was hesitant to proceed. With mountains blocking her escape, climbing was out of the question. Her only options were to press on into the unknown or face an uncertain fate. Left with not much of a choice, Hera steeled herself and cautiously advanced step by step.

Suddenly, a faint "clink" echoed

through the silent cave. Hera had kicked something-an old military flashlight. Dusty and seemingly disused, it surprisingly flickered to life at a touch.

With the newfound light, Hera spotted a worn-out backpack not far ahead. She kicked a stone toward it when she noticed something inside still moving.

A rat the size of a cat darted out with a squeak, disappearing into the shadows.

Tracking its escape with the flashlight, Hera stumbled upon a bronze door hidden deep within the cave.

She rummaged through the

worn-out backpack and wrinkled her

nose at the stench of rat urine. After wavering her hand in front of her face in disgust at the smell, she continued searching.

The bag's surface was covered in dust and marks from being dragged across the ground, likely by rats from somewhere nearby. The zipper had been chewed through, and most of its contents had been lost along the way.

After clearing the initial debris, she mainly found ruined contents a few crushed packs of compressed biscuits, a water bottle, and a knife.

Hera took the knife for protection and approached the bronze door.