The deeper Marcus and Elara ventured into the Temple of Echoes, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The hallways grew narrower, the walls adorned with cryptic symbols that seemed to shift and change the moment they weren't being directly observed. The very air felt heavy, laden with an ancient power that whispered of forgotten times, lost knowledge, and deadly secrets. It was as though the temple itself was alive, judging them, testing them at every step.
Marcus wiped the sweat from his brow, his grip on his staff still firm despite the exhaustion gnawing at him. Elara walked beside him, her pace steady but her eyes wary. The previous trial with the shadow warriors had left both of them battered, though they had emerged victorious, their spirits unbroken. Still, the temple's atmosphere had a way of creeping under their skin, stirring up emotions and memories they had long buried.
