[The Black Citadel]
The air inside the chamber was thick with the scent of damp stone and something older.
Something metallic. Like dried blood ground into the cracks of the world.
Vesper stepped out of the swirling black-red portal. His boots clicking against the polished obsidian floor.
Behind him. The rift sealed shut with a sound like a dying breath, leaving behind only silence.
The room was vast. The walls lined with flickering torches that burned with a deep crimson flame.
Shadows stretched across the jagged stone, dancing along runes etched in a language too ancient to name.
The markings pulsed faintly. Like they were breathing, or watching.
A voice echoed from the far end of the chamber.
"I thought you'd want to play a little longer."
Smooth, almost teasing. But sharp underneath.
Vesper didn't answer right away. His hands stayed tucked in the pockets of his coat.