Ron's footsteps echoed sharply as he ran, the heavy clatter of his armor fading behind him.
"Rita, move!" he shouted, his voice cracking.
The two sprinted through the narrow stone corridor, Ron tossing his shield aside when it began to slow him down. The metal scraped against the floor with a dull clang, disappearing into the shadows behind them.
Their breaths came in harsh gasps. The faint flicker of Rita's magic lit the way — just enough to see the trembling of her hands.
At last, they turned a corner — and froze.
A dead end.
Nothing but a cold, damp wall staring back at them.
Rita spun around, chest heaving. "This can't be… we've been running straight!"
Ron's eyes darted around wildly. "No… we circled back. This is where we woke up."
The torchlight sputtered, casting frantic shadows across the walls. The silence that followed was suffocating — not even the sound of dripping water.
Rita swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Ron… where is it?"
They both looked down the corridor they'd just come from.
Ron's grip tightened around the broken hilt of his sword. "It's not following us?"
Rita shook her head. Her voice trembled. "Maybe… maybe it can't leave that room."
Ron took a cautious step forward, his boot scraping the stone. The echo stretched down the corridor — and didn't return.
No echo.
No wind.
Only stillness.
He turned back toward Rita, his expression grave. "Then whatever it is… it's extremely cautious
Dust still hung thick in the air as Lux pushed himself up from the rubble. His breath trembled, chest heaving. He brushed the dust from his cloak and patted his waist — both daggers were still there, miraculously untouched.
He exhaled in relief, then called out into the shadows.
"Rita? Ron? Altleno?"
No answer.
Only the low groan of shifting stone.
Lux clenched his fists and murmured a weak incantation. A small orb of pale light flared between his palms, pushing the darkness back just enough to see a few feet ahead.
He turned slowly — then froze.