Uneasecreept throughout the four's hearts as they pressed forward through the oppressive darkness of the dungeon, their footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. The air was thick with the stench of suffering, a nauseating reminder of the horrors that had unfolded within those wretched confines.
As they advanced, the flickering torches cast eerie shadows, playing tricks on their senses. Dea led the way, her determination cutting through the grim atmosphere. Her eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the surroundings for any sign of Amare.
Zora walked close behind, his senses heightened as he absorbed the eerie energy emanating from the dungeon. His usually mischievous eyes were now filled with a somber intensity, reflecting the gravity of the situation. His hand rested on the hilt of his weapon, ready for whatever awaited them in the shadows.
