Subterranean Sweep

A narrow fissure between two massive woven fabric cushions offered untested terrain. *Click.* I lowered my stance and descended into the dark seam. My gauntlet brushed against a hidden metallic obstruction half-buried in woven lint. Pressure applied. I leveraged the curved alloy fragment free—a gleaming silver coin, stamped with unfamiliar sigils. Testing its weight, I propped it vertically against the dense foam wall. A worthy tactical marker. The deep crevice holds salvage.