Ron stepped through the heavy wooden door, and the moment it closed behind him, his breath caught.
The sight before him didn't belong in any dungeon he knew. The ceiling was gone—no, it wasn't a ceiling at all. Above stretched a crimson sun glowing dimly through an orange-red sky that churned like slow fire. The air shimmered faintly with heat. Black, leafless trees rose from cracked, ashen soil, their twisted roots pulsing faintly as if alive.
Ron took a step forward, wary. "What the hell is this place…? This doesn't feel like a dungeon chamber at all."
The faint hum of mana in the air made his skin prickle. It was heavy—too heavy. Instinct told him to be cautious, to grab whatever treasure was hidden here and leave as fast as possible.
