Maris felt the pressure of the chamber bearing down on her, the air thick and heavy, as if it were trying to suffocate her resolve. She took a quick glance at Amberine, who stood beside her, fire already dancing along her fingertips. Even in the dim light of the chamber, Amberine's fiery determination burned bright. The eerie glow from the luminescent fungi clinging to the walls flickered in response to the advancing undead—skeletons clattering towards them, specters drifting through the air, their ghostly forms haunting and hollow.
Maris took a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment. She could almost hear Professor Draven's voice in her mind, calm and cold, his sharp gaze cutting into her as if assessing her worth. He'd always been able to analyze every situation with pinpoint accuracy.
