Chapter 35: Spiral Descent
Creak.
The sharp c***k of stone against stone sliced through the silence and snapped Aric Blackthorn from the depths of his spiraling thoughts. His bloodshot eyes flicked toward the center of the vast chamber. He watched as the altar, once etched with pulsing sigils and faint traces of old blood, began to descend into the floor with an eerie grace.
"What in the Hollow is this now?"
Dragging himself upright, every joint screaming protest, Aric staggered forward. His legs were unsteady, his body sore from his last brutal encounter, but curiosity overrode exhaustion.
A void.
A pit, wide and blacker than death itself, opened beneath where the altar once stood. No light escaped it, no sound echoed from its depths. It was not merely dark, it devoured the very con
