Caria's tone was calm, focused. "Mist illusions shift sound and light… but not the air itself. Find the cold draft. That's the real passage."
Rhys nodded and placed his palm against the nearest wall.
Left side — warm.
Right side — cooler.
A faint, steady chill drifting past his fingers like a hidden breeze.
"This way," he said, turning right.
They moved as a group, slowly but surely.
As they walked, the whispers faded — replaced by a low hum, like distant chanting. The floor straightened. The walls stopped bending.
Sophia let out a small breath of relief. "It's stabilizing. Good sign."
Aria rolled her shoulders. "Good. Because one more liar-lizard jumps on me and I swear I'm burning this whole maze down."
"Please don't," Caria said. "Fog is flammable in here."
Rhys paused. "…Fog is flammable?"
"In this floor, everything is questionable," Caria answered simply.
Aria groaned. "This dungeon sucks."
