They moved together toward the doorway. As they approached, Finn felt a familiar sensation, like passing through an invisible barrier. A veil between spaces.
They stepped through.
The chamber beyond was different from the others. Much smaller and much more personal. It was dominated by a single feature that drew the eye immediately.
A statue.
It stood at the chamber's center, easily three times the height of a man. Carved from dark stone that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it. The craftsmanship was extraordinary. Every muscle fiber, every hair, every detail was rendered with such precision it looked ready to move at any moment.
The Crimson Fist Tyrant.
