The blinding glow hit their eyes like a sudden gust of wind.
Ethan and Daniel stepped into the light, shielding their faces for a second as they adjusted.
The oppressive darkness, the foul stench, and the slick, rotting floor of the tunnel were suddenly behind them—replaced by a realm of startling contrast.
They stood in a massive corridor made of smooth, white stone blocks.
The air here was crisp, sterile, and eerily still. The walls shimmered faintly, pulsing with a pale, ambient light that came from no visible source, as though the stones themselves were alive—breathing.
The place felt unnatural. Not magical—manufactured.
The white bricks were almost clinical, like something built not to intimidate… but to observe.
Ethan's steps echoed faintly, his boots tapping against the glossy floor as he scanned the hall. His voice dropped into a whisper. "Where the hell are we…?"
