The passage did not slope upward or downward.
That unsettled Marron more than if it had.
She walked forward expecting the familiar pressure change in her ears, the subtle shift in temperature that marked transition within the dungeon. It never came. The stone beneath her feet remained the same texture, the air the same density. Even the sound of her steps stayed consistent.
It felt less like entering something new and more like being allowed to continue.
The corridor opened gradually into a wide, circular chamber.
This one was different from the others—not in size or structure, but in purpose. The walls were bare. No scars. No grooves. No evidence of repeated work. The floor was clean, unmarked by fire or blade.
At the center stood nothing.
No dais. No hearth. No table.
Just open space.
Marron stopped at the edge of the chamber and waited.
Her first instinct was to look for tools. For anything that would tell her what was expected.
There was nothing.
