Light engulfed them the moment they passed the gate—not blinding, but disorienting. It felt like being inside a lightning bolt stretched across eternity, where direction, sound, and sensation were all stripped away.
Then the light dimmed.
Not vanished, but gathered—condensed into a clear boundary. They found themselves standing in a vast circular chamber, domed high above, the ceiling glittering with luminous crystals like an artificial sky. At the center was a great sigil etched into the floor—a design of light and shadow entwined, two halves of a single spirit in conflict.
Molvar exhaled. "Well, at least there's a floor. Thought we were dead."
"Not yet," Cedric muttered. "But clearly this place… isn't meant for the faint of heart."
