Kuro Kao crouched at the mouth of a tunnel he had already forgotten how to reach. He knew the shape of Undergnarl by feel now, this warren of roots and stone under the world. His goal was simple and impossible: map every hidden passage down here, and let no creature ever see his face. He had walked three new routes today. He could not name a single turn. He pressed his back to the wall and pulled his hood lower. The problem gnawed at him. Each night he found fresh passages. Each morning they blurred together. He tried scratching marks in the dirt, but water washed them off. He knotted a cord to count corners, then lost the count. Without a record, every step erased the last. He was mapping nothing. Ahead, a strange glow bled around a bend. Kuro went still. Something down here made light, and light meant eyes that might find him. He crept forward, silent on the wet floor. The tunnel opened into a wide chamber. In the center sat a giant plant, tall as a house. Its two green jaws stood open like a mouth full of pale teeth. But the space inside was warm and dry, a bowl of soft light. No creature waited there. The plant simply held the room like a shelter. Kuro stepped between the great teeth. His boots found firm ground. And there, resting in the plant's open center, lay a flat black tablet. He picked it up. The screen woke at his touch. Symbols he did not know ran along its edges, glowing blue. Then a picture bloomed across the glass. Lines. Curves. Little marks like doorways and forks. He turned in place, and the lines turned with him. It was a map. His map. The tablet was drawing the chamber around him, the jaws of the plant, the tunnel he had just left. As he shifted his feet, a thin bright trail followed, marking every step he took. Kuro's breath caught. He walked back out through the teeth and into the tunnel. The trail stretched behind him on the screen, exact. He walked the three forgotten routes from the day, and the tablet remembered each one. Nothing washed away. Nothing blurred. He returned to the sheltering plant and sat inside its warm center. For the first time, Undergnarl held still on the glass in his hands. He could see where he had been. He could see where the dark spaces gaped, unmapped, waiting. But the light of the screen touched his hood. It threw a faint blue glow onto the chamber walls. Kuro looked up. In the dark, that glow reached far. Anything with eyes would see it long before he saw them. He had found his way to record every passage. Now his own tool marked him in the dark.