The stone corridor stretched endlessly, but this time they didn't walk in silence. Molvar, true to form, was the first to speak, his steps light, his mouth lighter.
"Think anyone's actually reached the top of this thing? If they did, maybe they got yanked into the heavens. Never seen again."
"Maybe they never came back to tell the tale," Karl replied, eyes fixed ahead.
"Or maybe they turned into stone statues guarding the door." Molvar shivered. "If I turn into one, make sure I'm holding a wine glass. I've got standards."
Cedric let out a quiet exhale—somewhere between annoyance and relief.
The faint light around them shifted in hue as they moved deeper—green fading into soft amber, like the last light before nightfall. The ceiling, once high and distant, now sloped downward. The stone floor turned smooth and polished, as though worn by countless passing feet.
Then, they arrived.
