The sound of boots echoed through the ancient stone passage, steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of unease.
Flashlights flickered like fireflies, barely piercing the oppressive darkness that enveloped them,a darkness that seemed to pulse with the weight of centuries.
The air was thick and damp, clinging to their lungs with every labored breath.
Leading the charge was Ravik, his back straight and chin held high.
His crimson cloak billowed behind him, catching what little light there was.
The men of the Crimson Jackals fell into formation behind him, striving to mirror his confidence even as unease crept across their faces, masked only by forced smirks.
At his side, Jarek,his sharp-eyed right-hand man,broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice.
"Commander… are you sure this is the right tunnel?"
