Scene 1 – The Iron Chamber
The door was massive, forged of plates so thick it looked like it had been carved from a mountain's heart. When Jemil and the swordmaster pushed it open, the hinges screamed, grinding against time itself. Beyond, the air shifted—thicker, heavier, every breath tinged with the tang of rust and old blood.
The chamber was a colossal circle of steel, stretching wider than any hall they had seen in the tower so far. The walls weren't smooth stone but layered iron, engraved with shifting runes. They pulsed faintly like veins, each throb echoing a heartbeat that wasn't theirs.
Above, the ceiling vanished into a darkness so deep it felt endless. From that void, hundreds of weapons hung suspended: longswords, sabers, spears, war-axes, halberds. They floated as though caught mid-swing, clashing into one another with unnatural precision. Every collision sent out sprays of sparks that fell like starlight, raining across the chamber floor.
