The transition from the Fungal Caverns to the second floor was a physical assault on the senses. As the heavy elevator doors groaned open, the squad was not met with the damp, organic scent of moss and spores. Instead, they were hit by a wall of dry, overheated air that smelled of oxidized copper, scorched oil, and ancient rust. This was the Iron Labyrinth. It was a sprawling grid of interconnected metallic corridors, high-pressure steam pipes, and reinforced grates that stretched into the dark.
Vane was the first to step out. His boots made a sharp, echoing clack against the iron floor. The sound was unnervingly loud. It bounced off the metallic walls and traveled down the narrow hallways until it was a series of fading, ghostly rings. He immediately stopped, raising a hand to signal the others. He looked down at his feet, then at the surrounding architecture. The metal here was not just structural. It was a living conductor for every vibration made within its walls.
