The stone wall did not just shift. It fully retracted.
The slab sank straight into the ground with a grinding roar, leaving behind a long vertical scar of glowing light. A narrow hallway stretched beyond it, lined with vertical runic carvings that glowed brighter than anything we had seen so far in this nightmare labyrinth.
The hallway looked carved by careful hands, each symbol etched as deeply as bone markings. But the runes were moving. Slowly. Deliberately. Their shapes flexed like muscles beneath skin, shifting into new configurations with every breath I took.
I did not like that.
Leah stepped forward and slapped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears.
“These… these are the original symbols,” she whispered. “The first language. Pre curses. Pre creation. Pre everyth
