The rhythmic echo of footsteps grew louder, resonating through the stone passageway. Valen's grip tightened around the hilt of his blade, his eyes locked on the shadow at the far end of the corridor. His allies shifted into defensive stances behind him, each one tense, their breaths shallow in the charged silence.
The air grew heavier with each step the figure took, until finally, it emerged—a tall, translucent figure cloaked in an ethereal light. Its features were indistinct, shifting like smoke caught in a beam of sunlight, but its eyes burned with a steady golden light. A deep hum filled the space, as though the walls themselves were resonating with the being's presence.
"You come seeking the founders' failsafe," the figure intoned, its voice reverberating through the corridor. It carried an ancient weight, as though it spoke for centuries of forgotten history. "And yet, you are untested."
