But instead of walking straight out of the room like any sane person would, I paused.
No.
I decided to do something… else.
There was an itch under my skin—a simmering urge. Something about this tomb, this room, still gnawed at me. It wasn't just a chamber meant to contain. No, it connected things. It held things. I could feel it.
I stepped toward the nearest wall and placed both hands on its rough surface. Cold. Smooth.
A dead chill seeped through my fingers and crawled up my arm. But beneath that coldness, something pulsed—something deeper, hidden just beneath the stone. A faint, rhythmic tremor like a second heartbeat.
It was energy.
Aether.
But not just any aether.
There was a distinct feel to it. An echo of the same foul essence that had once animated the fur coat monstrosity I just annihilated.
Spectral, undead aether—stitched, merged, compressed into intricate strands. The walls weren't just built; they were woven. A tapestry of arcane engineering.
