Kael stepped through the shimmering white light, and the world shifted beneath him, the radiant void of the Gatekeeper's trial giving way to a stillness that was heavier, older, and infinitely more profound.
The air thickened, not with pressure but with memory, a weight that seemed to carry the echoes of countless ages, each breath laced with the dust of forgotten eras.
The chamber that greeted him was vast, its circular expanse carved from black stone, its walls adorned with faded crimson runes that pulsed once as he entered, their glow dimming as if acknowledging his presence with a reluctant sigh.
Dust hung suspended in the air, frozen mid-drift, as though time itself had refused to pass, rendering the space a monument to eternity.
This was no arena, no battlefield forged for combat or trial. This was a tomb—a sanctuary of silence and secrets, a place where the past lingered, watching, waiting.
