M.V.S.

The hum of the lamps was especially intrusive here. Yellow light seeped through my eyelids, reflecting off the endless walls. A view of another room, almost identical to the last, save for one detail—the company.

Luna stood frozen against the wall, her head tilted slightly (where creatures usually have their heads), so that her inner crescent glided across the surface, leaving behind a barely perceptible trail of light. Her bladed tail tapped lazily against the carpet, like the pendulum of an ancient clock. She was silent, and this silence was heavier than the hum of the lamps—it felt like eternity.
Garard towered beside her. His single eye rolled madly, scanning the room, and the small orbs on his face darted wildly, searching for any sign of danger. He nervously clutched the strap of his bag and, spitting through a white grin, said irritably:

"What a hole. I'm starting to feel like we're going in circles. And that smell..." He grimaced, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

The sun immediately turned to face him.

"But this is wonderful! Endless rooms—it's like an endless chance to find something new! Or get lost, but that's still an experience!" The Sun's voice sounded from everywhere, ringing faintly, like the chime of little planets around his head. He looked hopefully at the Moon. "Do you feel anything, Moon?"

Luna didn't answer right away. Finally, she turned her body toward the corridor, pointing her light in that direction.

“It’s... quiet there,” she said almost inaudibly . “Too quiet.”

At that moment, Neya emerged from the shadows behind the column. Her porcelain, cracked face seemed frightening in its stillness. She clucked her tongue sternly, looking at Garard.
Zhenya sat cross-legged on the floor, raptly watching the shadow passing along the wall. Translucent green drops trembled on its small white wings.