The massive stone doors parted fully, releasing a flood of dappled light that spilled across the threshold like liquid gold. Apollo shielded his eyes, the sudden brilliance momentarily blinding after the temple's blue gloom.
As his vision adjusted, he found himself staring into a vast flooded cavern that stretched beyond comprehension, its ceiling lost in shadows while its floor disappeared into azure depths.
"By the Forge," Thorin whispered, his voice uncharacteristically small.
Apollo stepped forward, drawn by the bow's insistent pull. The weapon had fallen silent, but he could feel its anticipation thrumming against his spine as they crossed the threshold.
The moment his boot touched the water on the other side, the pressure hit him, not crushing, but unmistakable, as if the weight of an entire ocean pressed against his skin despite the breathable air.
