In one of the far corners of the mansion, hidden behind an unassuming door, was a room that might as well have been forgotten by time. Nestled inside was a closet—dusty, narrow, and suspiciously plain. It looked more like a place where someone would stash a body or dump old junk than anything important.
The air inside reeked of neglect. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling like curtains, and rat droppings dotted the floor in a pattern that screamed abandonment. It was a stark contrast to the elegance and pristine condition of the rest of the estate.
"This is starting to feel like an RPG... moving from point A to point B," Corven muttered with a groan. He had long since stopped trying to make sense of his escapades in this new world.
Instead of questioning it, he simply accepted the map's vague instructions. At this point, blind faith seemed faster.
FWOOSH.
