The stairs spiraled down into darkness, each step groaning beneath their boots like the bones of an ancient beast creaking under weight it hadn't felt in centuries.
The stone steps were slick with moisture, worn smooth by time, and lined with thin tendrils of moss that curled like green veins along the railings.
\The air thickened the deeper they went—dense, moist, and choked with the earthy scent of rot and mildew.
At the bottom, a biting chill slapped against their skin. It wasn't just cold—it was the kind of chill that sank into the bones, the kind that made you feel like something was watching from the shadows.
The stillness was oppressive, as if the very walls were holding their breath.
Ethan stepped off the last stair and raised a hand to halt the group. "Don't make too much sound," he said, voice a whisper edged with steel. "We don't know what we may face in here. It could be anything… and maybe strong. Dangerous."
