The shaft was narrow and stifling, and the air was heavier than outside, saturated with a pungent mixture of heat, sweat and putrefaction. Silence was just an illusion - a veil stretched between them and the beating heart of the dungeon.
The ground beneath their feet was becoming increasingly organic. Chitinous growths covered the walls, pulsing faintly like a visible circulatory system. Each step sounded like an echo in a living trachea.
Erika was still leading the way, her gaze hard, her jaws clenched. Isaac, barely a step behind Rémi, observed everything with the same surgical precision. He noted shapes in the shadows, variations in the light, the rapid breathing of certain members of the group. The intensity was rising. The dungeon thickened.
- We're getting close to the core, that's for sure," Maëlle breathed, resting her hand against the wall. The mana is... denser. I'm having trouble breathing.
