Northern stepped into the cavern, walking forward over the wreckage of the colossal door, his boots crunching on the warped metal as he strode into the blood-soaked darkness beyond.
The air within was heavy—thicker, almost tangible, as if each breath drew not oxygen but the weight of a thousand souls.
The crimson haze that filled the cavern outside seemed to condense here, pooling in murky rivulets across the polished floor.
The Blood Palace.
The vast chamber unveiled itself in solemn, gruesome grandeur.
The walls appeared alive, veins of dark scarlet pulsating faintly beneath their surface, as though the room itself had been carved from a colossal living organism.
Overhead, an arched ceiling stretched high into shadowed obscurity, lined with crystalline droplets that glistened like blood-red tears, catching and refracting the dim light into a haunting mosaic.