As they were led deeper into the stronghold's twisted architecture, Samantha could only watch helplessly through her own eyes as Maelith prepared to negotiate with the kind of monsters who saw love as a weakness to exploit and family bonds as genetic resources to be harvested.
Whether this would ultimately help or doom their rescue mission remained an open—and increasingly terrifying—question.
The corridors they traversed defied conventional architecture in ways that made Samantha's trapped consciousness reel with disorientation.
Walls curved at impossible angles, floors sloped upward while somehow still leading down, and doorways opened onto rooms that were clearly larger than the spaces that contained them.
The very air seemed thick with malevolent magic, pressing against her awareness like a physical weight.
Maelith, however, navigated the twisted passages with the casual confidence of someone who had seen far worse in her centuries of existence.
