By the time they reached the Third Ring, the air had changed, thicker, colder, carrying the heavy scent of damp soil and decay. Before them loomed a massive iron gate, twisted with bone-like patterns that seemed to shift in the dim light.
The Collector's Hand stepped forward and pressed its palm to the gate. With a low groan, the metal parted, opening into a vast, shadowed cemetery beyond. Graves stretched as far as the eye could see, carved into uneven stone and earth, marked by crooked tablets that glowed faintly with sickly blue runes.
Before letting them in, the Hand turned to Renny and Myla.
"Prepare," the Hand said in its low, flat tone. "If you open grave… and soul zombie wake, take remnant first, then force soul back to grave. Only then will it stop."
Myla swallowed hard, her grip tightening around Renny's arm.
The Hand continued, "Place each remnant in cup. When full, return to gate. I will be waiting."
Renny gave a curt nod. "Got it."
