The Rotten Sanctum was no place for the living.
From the moment Kael stepped through the warped gate, the air itself seemed to change. It clung thick in his throat, damp and foul, laced with the stench of mildew and old blood. The walls sweated black moisture that streaked down like veins, and faint silver lines pulsed within the stone as if the entire place had been carved from the flesh of something alive.
The ground sucked at their boots, slick with rot. The darkness was not empty here, it pressed close, watching, listening.
The boy led the way, small and silent, his bare feet never faltering even when the stone broke into slick patches of slime. His head tilted from side to side, as though listening to a tune none of the others could hear. Soft whispers slid from his lips, threads o
