The morning sun rose over the Crimson Wastes, painting the cracked earth in shades of gold and crimson. The small settlement behind them faded into the distance as Lyra and her companions continued their journey toward the dungeon, their steps steady and sure. The air was cool, a faint breeze stirring the red sand beneath their feet, but the promise of heat hung heavy on the horizon.
Sylvia walked beside Lyra, her green eyes scanning the terrain with keen awareness. "You'd think we'd see more travelers around here," she said, her tone light but curious. "It's too quiet."
Victor adjusted his pack, his staff resting against his shoulder. "Most people don't make it this far. The Crimson Wastes aren't exactly welcoming."
Violet, walking a few paces behind with Ember at her side, nodded. "Still, it feels off. Like we're being watched."
