The Floor 4 portal deposited them into an antechamber of flawless, polished black stone. The walls were as smooth as obsidian glass, reflecting the thick, pulsing red veins that ran through the masonry like the arteries of a dying titan. The rhythmic, subterranean heartbeat was deafening here—a heavy, constant thrum that vibrated through the soles of Nathan's boots and rattled his teeth. The air was frigid, thick with the coppery stench of old, oxidized blood. It was a cold that ignored thermal layers, settling directly into the lungs.
Nathan's [Hunter's Insight] flared, washing the dark antechamber in a tactical overlay. "Contacts ahead. A heavy defensive line. Wisps and Stalkers operating in tandem. They're guarding the gate."
