Richard
The air grew colder the deeper I went, not just in temperature but in essence. It wasn’t a natural cold; it felt ancient and aware, like I was trespassing into a memory the world had tried to bury.
Dust clung to every surface, undisturbed for centuries. Bell fragments shimmered faintly from the stone, embedded like scars in the crypt’s flesh. Some pulsed softly, each one humming a broken note that shifted with the rhythm of my breath, as though the place was inhaling and exhaling with me.
When I touched one, the sound vibrated through my bones so deeply it almost hurt.
The tunnel twisted in ways that defied logic. The path folded back on itself and bent at impossible angles, and I stopped trying to make sense of it. The only thing I trusted was the bond. It tugged me forward, s
