"Master..." Kazarax's voice rasped suddenly, breaking through Morgan's spiraling thoughts.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Morgan asked silently, his boots grinding against the ancient slate.
"...It is... vast..." Kazarax murmured.
"...It still slumbers, and yet its intent bleeds through the bedrock... Sarenus observed quietly.
Through the darkness, the dust disturbed by Morgan's abrupt arrival settled around them in silent, rhythmic waves, disturbed only by the quiet crunch of Morgan's boots against ancient slate as he took his first steps forward.
Every step forward felt as though he were wading through thick, pressurized water.
The sheer weight of the atmosphere down in the pitch black abyss was suffocating and filled with the oppressive gloom of countless millenia.
With every breath he took, Morgan tasted cold sulfur and ancient iron.
Around him, the colossal, inhuman architecture stretched upward into the lightless void above.
