29. The Virus
I followed Dimithryus through the wide rooms of the manor, my footsteps echoing on the marble floor in a rhythm that felt like an echo of my own heartbeat. We walked down corridors I hadn't seen yet, turned corners that all looked the same, climbed a small spiral staircase hidden behind a tapestry. We finally stopped in front of a heavy dark wooden door — ancient oak, judging by the deep grain and age stains. It was different from the other doors in the house. Rougher. More... lived-in. He reached for the bolt and pulled it open — a heavy mechanism that groaned in protest, as if it hadn't been used in months. The sound echoed down the silent corridor. He pushed the door open with one smooth movement, then stepped aside like a gentleman from another era, giving me a small nod to go ahead
- Writer
