The cavern seemed to breathe as Xavier and his group pressed deeper. The air was thick, foul, and alive with the pulse of drums that grew louder with every step. The sound was not just noise—it was rhythm, ritual, a heartbeat that belonged to the horde waiting in the dark.
"Everybody keep together," Xavier whispered to his group as they advanced.
Their footsteps echoed against the stone, swallowed by the vastness of the tunnels. Shadows shifted at the edges of the firelight, darting back into the black. Xavier's grip tightened on his daggers, his instincts sharp. He knew what those flickers were—scouts, watching, measuring, waiting for the moment to strike. Aria's silver aura glowed faintly, a cold light that pushed back the smoke curling from crude fire pits.
