Zayne moved silently through the hall, invisible to all eyes.
The black-masked men led the three adventurers ahead of him — through long, polished corridors lit by cold blue crystals. The place was majestic, almost royal, but every few steps, muffled screams seeped through closed doors, turning grandeur into dread.
Zayne's eyes narrowed slightly as he walked. The air was thick with the scent of blood and metal. Torture chambers… experiments… interesting choice of décor.
Then suddenly— crash!
A man flew out of a room, smashing against the marble wall. The masked escorts froze mid-step, their bodies trembling.
Zayne tilted his head, watching calmly as the door from which the man had flown creaked open.
From within, a voice, sharp and furious, echoed—
"Don't give me excuses! I'm already angry that our plan at Astralis Arcanum failed!"
Zayne quietly stepped closer, listening.
The black-masked men dragged Daxon and the others forward, kneeling before the figure inside.
