The group stepped out of the enormous chamber, their footsteps heavy with fatigue but strengthened by the bittersweet taste of victory. The Veiled Spire still loomed around them, its oppressive aura lighter but far from gone. Each corridor they passed seemed to pulse faintly with remnants of Abyssal energy, as if the Spire was reluctant to release them.
Kaelith's piercing blue eyes skimmed their surroundings, though her steps were brisk, purposeful, despite a tension that etched a furrow on her face. "The Herald's loss has weakened the Abyss' hold here, but the place isn't stable enough. We have to clear out before the Spire collapses."
"Collapse?" Draven muttered, moving his grip on his axe. "Just what we need—a giant death trap caving in after clearing it.
Aris, who walked beside him, cast a glance back toward the now-distant chamber. "I'm more worried about what those whispers mean. The Abyss isn't done with us, is it?"
