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The hidden passage stretched downward into darkness, rough-hewn and ancient. The walls were carved stone, worn by time and pressure, etched with faded glyphs half-swallowed by creeping moss. A damp, cold breeze flowed from the depths below, carrying a scent that was neither rot nor earth—something older, heavier, as though the very air bore the memory of a forgotten age.
Kieran led the way, a faint orb of light floating above his open palm. The others followed silently, their foo ...
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