Subterranean Trench Recon

I dropped into the deep valley between two sofa cushions after confirming the landing zone was strictly fabric and fluff. Down in the twilight of the seam, my foot bumped against something cold and round—a lost silver coin resting against an old woven fabric tag. Naturally, any seasoned explorer knows a shiny disc doubles as both a tactical mirror and a blast shield. I braced my back against the firm foam wall, reached down with both hands, and tilted the coin upright into the groove. Seeing my own wide eyes reflected in the buffed metal assured me: the trench is secure, and extraction through the left armrest remains wide open.