Valen stepped into the darkness of the Hall of Whispering Shadows, his footsteps barely audible against the cold stone floors.
The air was thick and still, each step resonating as if the hall itself was waiting to consume him.
The eerie silence of the abandoned wing felt different from the rest of the academy—far older, darker, and more dangerous.
The history of the hall was filled with rumors of forbidden experiments, students vanishing, and whispers that lingered long after anyone left.
He moved forward cautiously, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement.
The message had been clear—meet me in the Hall of Whispering Shadows—but there had been no name, no indication of who was waiting for him.
It could be a trap, but the risk of ignoring the invitation was greater. Whoever had sent the message knew something about the threats lurking beneath the surface.
