I hit a forgotten cistern on the edge of the old quarry last week. It was tucked behind a rusted steel gate that no one in town ever knew existed. I slipped in through a crack, and the air was cool and damp, filled with a weird, sweet smell from wild mint and the faint hum of unseen insects. From the top of the stone walls I could see the whole valley—no one else would ever get that view. It felt like I’d uncovered a secret kingdom, and yeah, it was a rush.