The descent into the Temple of Echoes felt endless. The air grew thick with age, and the smell of ancient stone and forgotten knowledge filled their nostrils. The stairwell was narrow, carved into the very heart of the desert. Marcus could feel the weight of history pressing down on him, each step deeper into the earth seemingly more oppressive than the last.
"It's almost suffocating down here," Elara muttered, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
Marcus nodded in agreement, his senses tingling as if the very air was charged with magic. "I don't like this," he said. "It feels... wrong. Like we're walking into something we shouldn't be."
Elara's gaze narrowed, and she glanced at the faintly glowing Compass of Convergence in Marcus's hand. The arrow had become more erratic, as though the temple was resisting their arrival. "It's not your usual dungeon crawl, that's for sure. Whatever this place is, it doesn't want to be found."
