Magnus stood in the grand hallway of the Adams manor; his heart heavy with the weight of what he had to do. The crystal's energy still hummed within him, a constant reminder of the power he now carried—and the responsibility that came with it. But before he could embark on his journey to uncover the source of the distant resonance calling to him, he needed supplies. Food, clothing, and most importantly, valuables—jewels, currency, anything that could aid him in his quest.
He began his search in the east wing of the manor, where the Adams family had kept their private quarters. The air was thick with dust, and the once-opulent halls now felt cold and lifeless. Magnus moved quietly, his footsteps echoing softly as he opened doors and peered into rooms. Most were empty, their contents long since removed or forgotten. But as he approached a door at the end of the hall, he felt a strange unease settle over him.
The door was slightly ajar, and a faint, metallic smell wafted from within. Magnus hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Something about this room felt wrong, but he couldn't turn away. He pushed the door open and stepped inside—and what he saw made his blood run cold.
The room was a nightmare. Blood splatters covered the walls, dried and dark, but still fresh enough to tell him that whatever had happened here had occurred recently. Decayed guts and vile mucus were scattered across the floor, the stench overwhelming. Chains hung from the ceiling, and a rusted table in the center of the room was stained with what could only be blood. Tools of torture—knives, pliers, and other instruments—lay scattered about, their purpose all too clear.
Magnus's stomach churned, and he stumbled back, his hand covering his mouth. He had heard rumors about the Adams family's darker dealings, but he had never imagined something like this. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—this was where they had brought their enemies, their victims. And now, with the Adams gone, their final acts of cruelty had been left behind as a grim reminder of their legacy.
But what shook Magnus the most was the thought that this had happened recently—perhaps even the day before. The blood was dry, but not old. Had the Adams family done this before they fled? Were there others who had suffered because he hadn't been strong enough to stop them?
Magnus sank to his knees, his hands trembling. "This is my fault," he whispered, his voice choked with guilt. "If I had been stronger, if I had stopped them sooner, this wouldn't have happened."
The weight of his failure pressed down on him, threatening to crush him. But as he sat there, surrounded by the horrors of the room, he felt a spark of determination ignite within him. He couldn't change the past, but he could make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. He would uncover the truth behind the crystal's power, and he would use it to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
With a deep breath, Magnus stood and left the room, closing the door behind him. He couldn't erase what he had seen, but he could carry it with him as a reminder of why he had to keep going.
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