The wall sealed shut behind him, and Max's boots pressed onto smooth stone—silent, precise. The underground was nothing like he expected. A vast hall stretched before him, carved directly into the earth yet humming with runes embedded in every surface.
The ceiling arched high above, glowing faintly with threads of mana light, just enough to cast an eerie twilight across the chamber. Dozens of doors lined the walls, symmetrical, like cells or passages leading deeper into some hidden labyrinth.
The air was heavy, dense with a strange pressure that pressed on his chest and whispered that this place wasn't meant for human eyes.
Max slowed his steps, melding with the shadows, letting his breath melt away into nothing. The three masked figures walked forward into the hall's center with that same unnerving, puppet-like gait. He expected them to scatter, to vanish into one of the many doors—but instead, they stopped.
Then—something shifted.
