Aion stepped cautiously into the dark and cold room, his senses heightened by the oppressive atmosphere that surrounded him. The air felt heavy with an eerie stillness, and a sense of foreboding hung in every corner. As he moved forward, his footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor, adding to the somber ambiance.
Aion's breath formed faint clouds of mist as he exhaled, his body reacting to the chilling temperature. He instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, seeking some semblance of warmth and comfort amidst the gloom. The walls exuded an icy touch, sending a chill down his spine and causing his skin to prickle with goosebumps.
Straining his eyes, Aion attempted to discern any details in the murky darkness. As his vision adjusted, he caught sight of faint outlines, suggesting the presence of ancient structures or forgotten artifacts. The room felt like a forgotten crypt, a place untouched by the passage of time.
