'Do You?'

The air in the dungeon felt heavier than before, thick with damp rot and something unseen, something insidious. It pressed down on Florian's shoulders as he followed Lancelot and the knights deeper into the dark.

Each step echoed against the stone, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the oppressive silence. The flickering torches lining the corridor cast long, writhing shadows along the walls—shadows that seemed to stretch toward them like grasping hands. The further they walked, the colder it became, the air turning stale, suffocating.

Behind him, Heinz and Lucius moved in unspoken unison, their presence a silent warning. Neither spoke, but their tension was palpable. This was not a place any of them wanted to be.

Lucius finally broke the silence. "Are we truly certain this is a good idea?" His voice was calm, measured, but Florian caught the faint strain beneath it.