The three groups stood at the fork in the passage, a tense silence enveloping them like a thick fog.
They eyed each other warily, like predators circling their prey. The stone floor beneath their boots was uneven, worn smooth by hands long turned to dust.
Massive slabs of rock formed the walls, veined with faint, ghostly light that pulsed rhythmically,like a heartbeat echoing through the ages.
Cold air seeped from each of the three tunnels ahead, carrying strange scents of age, dust, and something metallic that clung to the tongue.
The oppressive silence stretched on until Ethan broke it,his voice cutting through like a knife.
"Well," he said with a tilt of his head as he surveyed the yawning stone mouths before them.
"Looks like this tomb is trying to keep things interesting for us! Left, right, or center? I say we flip a coin,unless anyone's hiding a map under that armor."
