The room remained dim, illuminated only by the eerie glow of the symbols carved into the stone walls. The cold, damp atmosphere clung to Amberine's skin, suffocating, like a thick blanket of mist wrapping itself around her throat. Her wrists were still bound by enchanted chains, her mana sapped, leaving her weak, vulnerable. The cold metal bit into her skin, refusing her any respite. She was exhausted—every part of her ached—but she couldn't rest. Not here. Not with the fear crawling beneath her skin, urging her to stay alert.