The mist thickened as Damien and Anna pressed forward, the silence stretching between them as the ruins loomed ever taller. The eerie fog clung to their skin like a damp shroud and the unsettling feeling of being watched gnawed at the edges of their senses.
Then, the ground trembled.
A guttural, otherworldly growl reverberated through the basin, low and distorted, like something ancient stirring awake. A chill ran down Anna's spine. She gripped her staff tightly, while Damien's fingers instinctively tightened around his sword hilt.
From the depths of the mist, shadows twisted and writhed, taking shape—bestial figures with skeletal frames, their bodies woven from dark energy and ancient bone.
Undead beasts.
A massive, wolf-like entity lunged first, its skull exposed beneath patches of decayed fur. Hollow eye sockets burned with a sickly green glow, and its gaping maw reeked of decay.
