บท 67: First Floor [1]

Azriel stepped cautiously away from the black hole, his senses overwhelmed by the atmosphere around him.

The air was thick and heavy, tinged with a faint metallic tang that clung to the back of his throat.

The light was dim, filtering through a perpetual haze that seemed to hang in the air like a shroud.

Massive columns lined the walls, their surfaces worn and cracked, yet they still bore faint traces of ancient carvings, now barely discernible.

These towering pillars stretched upward into the darkness, disappearing into the shadowy abyss above.

Ahead, a long corridor extended into the gloom, flanked by statues of armored figures.

Their faces were chipped away by time, their weapons dulled and corroded, yet their stances remained imposing, as if they were still vigilant guardians of this forsaken place.