The human official drew a line through a settlement door and called it an evacuation route.
The envoy turned the map around.
“That’s a home entrance.”
“It leads to the level passage.”
“Yes. Through their sleeping rooms.”
The official stared at the smaller marks beyond the door as though the ink might rearrange itself into the kind of corridor he needed. He had brought a list of threatened districts and a genuine transport problem. The envoy had brought the knowledge of what those lines crossed. Neither could make the other need disappear by naming their own more urgently.
The ceasefire meeting began there, with a door.
Human authorities wanted safe access to routes threatened by failing gates. Dungeon delegates wanted an end to armed searches entering under the name of emergency inspection. The proposed engineering places stood among occupied spaces, stored food, water access, and rooms where people had taken shelter after earlier displacement. No blank area on a human map could turn them into empty ground.
