As they exited the bowling alley, the festive buzz of the entertainment venue faded, replaced by the gentle hum of the fortress itself. Maria and Luna walked side-by-side, a comfortable silence settling between them.
Their path led them through deserted corridors, the polished obsidian reflecting their soft footsteps. The aroma of fresh-baked bread and simmering stew, a welcome counterpoint to the sterile air of the fortress, grew stronger with each step.
Finally, they reached a set of massive, ornately carved oak doors that stood slightly ajar, a warm yellow light spilling onto the cool stone floor.
With a shared glance, Maria pushed open the doors, revealing a sight that seemed to belong to a different world altogether. The grand kitchen of the Touch's Fortress was a symphony of bustling activity and organized chaos.
