PREVIEW
... with silent determination. The place smelled like metal shavings and old arcane fumes, a mix that hung heavy in the stagnant air. Strange, glowing sigils lined the walls—none that Cerys recognized, but all of them pulsing faintly in the gloom. Their flickering lights cast unsettling shadows across the stone floor, sometimes making it feel as though something larger than them was watching from the corners.
Cerys, the Lone Wolf with her striking red ponytail and impassive face, led the way ...
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