Subtle at first. Then dramatically.
Nysha suddenly grabbed Lindarion's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Wait."
Wind kicked up around their feet, spiraling unnaturally. Sand was being pulled downward, sliding like water toward an invisible point. The slope widened into a massive funnel—an ancient sinkhole descending into darkness.
The ground rumbled with an underground roar.
The funnel's center suddenly collapsed, plunging sand downward in a spiraling cascade. A hidden structure revealed itself beneath—black stone, broken pillars, runes etched in sigils no living scholar had ever recorded.
Ashwing yelped. "THE GROUND JUST FELL OUT OF THE WORLD WHAT ARE WE DOING—WHY ARE WE STILL HERE—?"
Lindarion stepped forward calmly.
The sand parted for him.
Parted.
It didn't swallow him.
It didn't pull.
It made way.
Nysha stared. "The ruins… they're responding to you."
