"There might be damage from the air getting in."
"There might be a collapse from us rushing."
Ken opened his mouth, then thought better of it. Haruki had already learned how quickly people confused urgency with carelessness. The chamber had been sealed for centuries; another two hours would not ruin it. One careless footstep might.
He glanced towards the cluster of workers waiting further down the tunnel. Nobody had been sent home — that had not been Haruki's decision. The men who had found the chamber wanted to see what came next. Even those who had never entered it spoke in lowered voices, as though the dead resting beyond the wall might hear them. Haruki understood. A discovery became personal when it happened beneath your hands.
"Food's here," Reina called from the tunnel entrance, her voice travelling ahead of her. She appeared carrying two large bags, followed by three younger Family members balancing bottled water, rice balls and containers of hot soup.
Ken stared.
"You brought lunch underground?"
"You've all been down here since six."
"We can eat later."
"You can eat now."
"We're working."
"And hungry people make poor decisions."
Haruki smiled.
"That sounds familiar."
Reina handed him a container.
"It should. I tell you often enough."
"I ate."
"Coffee doesn't count."
"I had toast."
"When?"
Haruki considered lying. Reina's expression warned him not to.
"Yesterday."
She pushed the container into his hands.
"Eat."
Nobody questioned Reina when she used that tone. Not even Haruki. Especially not Haruki.
The workers gathered along the wall, accepting food with quiet gratitude. The mood loosened almost immediately — someone made a joke about ancient curses, another told him to stop before he got them all killed. Haruki remained standing beside the breach. He ate because Reina would watch until he did, but his attention stayed on the darkness beyond the supports.
"You're staring," she said.
"I'm supervising."
"You're staring professionally."
He glanced at her. She lowered her voice.