The fortress seemed to exhale around them, its ancient walls creaking as if disturbed by their presence. Lyra, Victor, and Sylvia stepped cautiously through the crumbling main hall, their senses heightened. Dust swirled in the faint beams of light filtering through broken windows, and the faint scent of mildew mixed with something older, something unplaceable.
"Stay alert," Lyra whispered, her hand resting on the hilt of her greatsword. Her voice was steady but tense. "We're not alone here."
Victor nodded, his staff glowing faintly as he summoned a small orb of light to illuminate their path. Sylvia walked beside them, her feline eyes scanning every shadow, her tail twitching with anticipation.
