The world twisted around us, and the teleportation gate spat us out into a massive hall of red stone.
Rough, uneven, carved as if demons had punched the walls into shape rather than built them with tools.
Statues lined the walls—wild, muscular demons in strange poses, most of them naked or wrapped in scraps of cloth, their horns sharpened, their fangs bared. The sculptures felt so real it was as if they were alive, watching us enter their domain.
Multiple demons arrived through the gate at the same time, some with leathery wings, others with scaled skin, a few with floating orbs of flame around their shoulders. Their voices were loud, their footsteps heavy.
Ahead of us, a long line snaked toward a group of demon guards behind floating stone counters.
"We join that," Primus murmured under his hood, guiding Lara closer to him. Both of them had their horns hidden under the shadow of their cloaks but left just enough skin exposed to pass as demons at a glance.
