The corridor beyond the archway was long, its black stone walls absorbing rather than reflecting the faint light from the crimson sconces spaced evenly along its length. The air here was different—denser, as though it carried the weight of hundreds of unseen eyes. Every breath felt measured, as if exhaling too loudly might betray them.
Mia held up a hand, signaling a brief halt. She tilted her head slightly, listening—not for obvious footsteps or voices, but for the subtler cues of movement: the faint scrape of metal, the shift of air. Nothing yet. Her eyes swept over the walls, following the vertical grooves carved into the stone, each lined with those strange crimson symbols. They were uniform, almost ceremonial, but the fact that they pulsed faintly suggested more than mere decoration.
Hiro edged forward to stand beside her, his stance low, weight balanced. "Corridor bends left about twenty meters ahead," he whispered, his voice barely above breath. "Can't see what's beyond."
