The group ran desperately in the dark, echoing tunnel, their footsteps pounding; their torches flickered in their tight grips, creating an eerie play of darkness and illumination on the chilly, stone-laden walls surrounding them. Each flicker of light revealed gruesome visions of the Acidspitter Arthropods they had narrowly evaded, pushing them to sprint with even greater urgency.
The air was thick with the scent of fear, with a bitter taste lingering on their tongues. With every stride, their unease swelled, the relentless fear of the unfamiliar devouring their every notion. The wind whispered—a cold breeze in an unseen abyss—as if it carried a foreboding message: they were still in danger.
Ethan's voice echoed in the tunnel, rough from the tension and effort. "Keep going!" he roared, his voice echoing through the suffocating shadows.