This was a massive limestone cave, with pathways that twisted and turned treacherously. The hideousness that lurked in the darkness was unbearable to gaze upon directly—a fear that surpassed understanding lingered in the heart, making it seem all the more sinister and terrifying.
Sticky droplets hung on the walls of the cave, or perhaps they were not droplets at all but something else altogether. The Great Elder knew that this chilling liquid would cause anyone who drank it to undergo irreversible mutations, and that simply possessing it would bring about a curse.
As long as one possessed it, whether in the past, present, or future, they would continuously be cursed. This was a three-dimensional substance that stood on the four-dimensional timeline, equally and eternally harming every creature associated with it.
And this...
Was merely some natural secretion of the "Funeral Director," a kind of "poison" that seemed to exist forever, never vanishing.
