The deeper Elara and her companions ventured, the more the world around them twisted and warped. The once rigid walls of the ruin had melted into flowing patterns, ever-changing in color and form. The air felt thicker now, as if it had become saturated with some invisible force, pressing against them. It was as if time itself had become unstable within these depths, the passage of seconds stretching and contracting with a subtle, disorienting rhythm. Every corner they turned, the oppressive silence grew, yet the weight of unseen eyes pressed in on them like a suffocating blanket.
Elara's instincts were on high alert, her hand instinctively gripping the hilt of her sword. Morgana, though still focused on deciphering the strange symbols etched along the walls, appeared no less uneasy. Kade, ever vigilant, kept his gaze moving between the shadows, his hand never far from his own blade.
"Something feels off," Kade muttered, his voice low, a grimness underlying his words.
