The passage they entered was narrow, almost suffocating, with jagged walls that seemed to close in with every step. Shadows danced unnaturally along the stone, flickering as though alive, whispering in voices that felt too faint to grasp. Emily kept her eyes forward, her thoughts still reeling from the vision the sentinel had shown her.
Nyradon was close, its presence pulsing through the air. Whatever was waiting for them there wasn't just a city, it was something ancient, with powers older than they could comprehend. But Emily couldn't let fear control her—not now. Too much was at stake.
Alaric kept his sword at the ready, eyes scanning the passage ahead. His unease was palpable, though his resolve was firm. Mira followed silently, her bow slung across her back for the time being, her fingers occasionally brushing against the hilt of a dagger at her hip. They all knew this calm was temporary.
