Zoraya

The air in the dungeon was thick and damp, the kind of air that clung to your skin and made it impossible to forget where you were.

The scent of blood, rusted metal, and the faint tang of mildew lingered like a memory you couldn’t wash away.

My feet made almost no sound on the cold stone floor as I followed Queen Melody deeper inside, the torchlight flickering against the damp walls and casting shadows that danced like ghosts in the corners of my eyes.

And then… I saw it.

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