The Path of the Bound

A tremor rumbled through the ancient stone walls, sending a fine layer of dust drifting from the ceiling. It wasn't a violent quake, nor a mere shift in the ruins—it felt deliberate, as if something beneath the surface had stirred, acknowledging their presence.

Daniel remained motionless, his senses sharpening. The weight of unseen eyes pressed against him, and the air carried a charged stillness, like a storm building before the first crack of thunder.

Mira's grip on her weapon was tight, her posture rigid with tension. Her sharp gaze swept over the shifting carvings along the corridor walls. The blue flames flickering in their sconces pulsed, dimming slightly as if reacting to something unseen.

That voice—low, ancient, filled with something both watchful and unknowable—had vanished into silence, but its words clung to the air like an unfinished sentence.