The corridor curved again.
Which made no sense, because it had just un-curved thirty steps ago.
Nathan ran a hand along the wall as they moved. It wasn't smooth. It felt like… ripple-stone. A design carved by something that didn't care about geometry or sanity.
Elara walked ahead, blade sheathed but loose in her grip. Always in front. Always silent.
Seraphina followed behind him, slower than she wanted to be. Her limp was more of a rhythm now than a problem.
Nathan didn't ask how bad it was. She wouldn't answer anyway.
He kept his voice low. "Anyone want to guess what exactly this place is trying to be? A tomb? A dream? A collective fever hallucination from drinking the dorm tea?"
No reply.
Not unexpected.
He tapped a cracked pillar with his knuckle. The echo came back wrong. Like something repeated it a second too late.
He didn't like that.
At all.
