The corridor twisted like a serpent.
Its walls were uneven and damp, pulsing faintly with some unnatural rhythm—like veins beneath flesh. Every few steps, the stone cracked underfoot, echoing too loudly in the silence. It was suffocatingly quiet, save for the occasional distant groan of stone… or something worse.
Orion kept his bow drawn, arrow nocked, eyes sharp.
Lyra walked a few paces behind, her presence nearly soundless. For a girl who claimed to be weak, she was awfully steady on her feet. Not once did she stumble.
"So," Orion said at last, his voice breaking the silence, "you planning on telling me how you freed me from those chains?"
She didn't reply.
"Right. Secrets. Got it." Orion nodded, accepting it as it is.
They proceeded a few more steps. Then...
Clink.
Orion halted his footsteps. He raised his hand.
Lyra halted instantly.
The floor in front of them… wasn't a floor.
It shimmered faintly, too smooth compared to the rest of the stone path. A trap.
