The southern corridor opened into a vast chamber whose ceiling disappeared into a haze of blue light. The walls shimmered faintly, covered in runes that seemed to breathe — sliding, reforming, pulsing in slow rhythm with the mana currents that filled the air. Each step echoed softly, the ground beneath their boots humming like a living heart.
Rhaldrin led the way, his small frame moving with quiet authority as a sphere of condensed mana hovered beside him, lighting the path ahead.
"Students," his rough voice began, echoing faintly across the chamber, "what you see here predates every recorded civilization. These ruins weren't built with ordinary methods. They were forged through a process we still can't comprehend — a fusion of mana, pressure, and time that no one alive could ever replicate."
