As they approached the cemetery, the mood shifted. The once-vibrant scenery faded into an eerie atmosphere as they entered the grounds. Old gravestones jutted out of the ground, half-buried in wild grass, and ancient trees loomed overhead, their gnarled branches creating ominous shadows.
"Stay close," Pierrot instructed, his voice low and serious as they stepped out of the vehicle. "Keep your senses sharp."
Eamon nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. As they walked among the graves, a chill ran down his spine. He could sense the energy shifts in the air, an unsettling tingle that suggested something was not quite right.
"This place gives me the creeps," Quill muttered, glancing around. "What do you think, Eamon?"
"I can feel something," Eamon replied, focusing his energy on the talisman. It pulsed gently in response, guiding him forward. "It's stronger over there." He pointed toward a cluster of ancient oak trees at the far end of the cemetery.
