We crossed the threshold one by one, the invisible barrier brushing against our skin—vibrating, as if it were counting us like livestock.
Suddenly, anyone outside found the entrance sealed—no one could get in.
Nobody said a word. They didn't need to. The pressure was thick enough to taste—bitter, metallic, settling on the tongue like the aftertaste of blood.
Some rubbed their arms, others exchanged grim looks. Adam's jaw clenched.
Even the veteran Seekers stared at the glowing number carved into the wall with resignation.
The number didn't lie. A floor that demanded a hundred combatants wasn't built for beginners. At the very least, this put us somewhere above the fifth floor—and knowing our luck, probably way past the comfort zone of anyone without a death wish.
All my earlier motivational speeches vanished on the spot.
"Don't overthink it," I let my voice echo. "With me here, we'll manage."
A few eyes flicked toward me, needing something solid to hold onto.
