The ground beneath their feet trembled violently, and a low, ominous rumble filled the air. Cracks snaked across the floor, splintering the ancient stone as the walls groaned in protest.
Dust cascaded from the ceiling like falling ash, and shards of rock splintered off, tumbling dangerously close to Aryndale and Azedreo.
The dim glow of the floating blue orbs flickered, their light dancing wildly with each jolt of the earth.
"The place is coming down!" Azedreo shouted, his voice barely cutting through the thunderous roar.
Aryndale grabbed Zefaniarina's arm, pulling her away from a falling stone beam just in time. "We have to get out of here!"
Before anyone could move, a flash of silver light erupted in the center of the room, a swirling burst of energy that seemed to warp the air itself.
From the center of the light stepped a familiar figure, Ahcehera.
Her silver hair whipped around her face as if caught in a storm, her eyes blazing with urgency.
