Caspian approached with deliberate slowness, each step echoing like a death knell in the hollow chamber.
As he drew closer, his eyes swept over the towering gates—etched with celestial sigils and demon-warding runes. Gold filigree trailed like veins of divinity down the surface, dulled by time and war. Beautiful in a cruel, foreboding way. Like the entrance to a sanctified hell.
He stopped just short, exhaling the kind of sigh that suggested he'd much rather be anywhere else.
With a reluctant hand, he reached for the door.
The moment his fingertips brushed the cold, ancient surface—click.
The silence shattered.
Air shifted. Pressure tightened like a noose.
Stone groaned.
