The first thing that greeted me when I entered the underground chamber was the sound of Sylara's laughter—a loud, boisterous cackle that echoed off the stone walls. The sound alone told me that she was already hard at work, and from the tone of her laughter, I could tell she was pleased with herself. That, at least, was a good sign. Sylara wasn't the easiest person to manage, but she was undeniably brilliant, and when she was in good spirits, it usually meant progress.
I made my way down the narrow corridor, the air growing colder with each step. The underground laboratory was a sprawling network of tunnels and chambers, each dedicated to a different aspect of my research. But this particular section belonged to Sylara, and she had made it her own with an array of experiments that were as chaotic as they were innovative. The place was filled with the scent of chemicals, magic, and something else—something feral.
