The chamber was massive, with its walls carved in diagrams of ancient battles frozen in time. Giant armored warriors clashed with monstrous creatures in scenes of bloodshed and chaos.
Damien stayed hidden behind the rock, his eyes glued to the disciples as they walked toward the altar in the center of the room.
There it was—the object on the alter. A small, dark box rested on the stone altar, the runes around it pulsating faintly as if guarding some long-forgotten secret. It didn't look like much, but Damien could tell from the way the disciples tensed that they thought differently.
Vynira's eyes narrowed as she approached the altar. "This has to be it," she muttered, her fingers twitching at her sides, as though resisting the urge to grab the box right away. The others hung back, exchanging looks of suspicion.
