Sweet smell of freedom

As the gods crossed the bridge that connected the underworld to the mortal realm, each step echoed with a mix of relief and uncertainty. The air crackled with the remnants of their harrowing escape, the weight of the shadows they had just defeated still clinging to their skin. Arazela led the way, her heart pounding as she felt the oppressive darkness receding behind them.

“Just a little further!” she urged, glancing back at Seker, who kept Bethel close. The bond between them was palpable, their fingers entwined, as if the very act of holding on could shield them from the horrors they had just faced.

“Doesn’t this feel like a scene from one of those cheesy adventure movies?” Arazela quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, the part where the heroes think they’ve made it out, only to realize they forgot to check the rearview mirror?”