It had been hours since they first entered the dungeon, and already the group had faced tight corridors, dead ends, and more than one near-collapse of ancient stone. The deeper they went, the more the air seemed to weigh on them, heavy with the dust of centuries and the sense that something was watching.

Teryn had kept them moving steadily, though even he could sense the unease growing among his companions. Dorian had remained quiet, studying every etching and detail they passed with a historian’s eye, while Meyla’s nerves seemed to fray a little more with each step. Viv, as always, tried to keep spirits up with her wry humor, but even she seemed unnerved by the dungeon's shifting design.

Their journey to the new chamber began with a choice—three branching paths in a large, crumbling antechamber, each one appearing equally foreboding.

"I don’t like the look of any of these," Viv muttered, her gaze flicking between the options.

Meyla, her tail flicking nervously, shook her head. "We shouldn’t go deeper. I can feel it. Something’s wrong with this place. It’s not normal."

Dorian, standing near a broken stone pillar, was studying some ancient inscriptions on the wall. "It’s all abnormal, but that’s what makes it fascinating. Look here," he pointed to the worn carvings. "This is a marker—a sign that these passages lead somewhere important."

Floating ahead, Low Five pointed a glowing finger toward the leftmost path, tapping the air as if insisting that was the right direction. Dorian glanced at his spectral companion, smiling faintly. “I appreciate the suggestion, but let's not rush into any decisions.”

Teryn, eyeing the three passages, mulled it over. “We have to go forward. We’ve come too far to turn back now.” His eyes landed on the middle path. “That one seems wider. We’ll have more room if we need to retreat.”

Reluctantly, the group agreed, and they set off down the central path. The corridor was wider than most they had encountered, but that only made it feel more like a trap. The air here was still, and the dust hung thickly, undisturbed for who knew how long.

As they moved deeper, the stone walls around them began to change. The crude carvings gave way to more intricate designs, and Dorian was quick to notice.

"These are different," he said, tracing his hoof along a particularly complex pattern. "More purposeful. We’re getting closer to something."

Teryn grunted, not entirely sure if that was a good thing. "Keep your eyes open," he warned, scanning the ceiling and walls for traps. "There’s something strange about this place."

As they rounded a bend, the passage narrowed suddenly, forcing them into single file once again. Teryn led the way, with Viv close behind. Meyla followed, and Dorian brought up the rear, his eyes lingering on the walls, as if trying to unlock their secrets.

"Not another tight spot," Meyla muttered, her voice low as they squeezed through the narrow passage. The stone pressed against them from all sides.

"Just keep moving," Teryn urged. "We’ll get through this."

But as they squeezed through the narrowest part, the air seemed to shift again. A faint, unsettling hum filled the space, and Teryn felt his gut tighten. Something was wrong.

Just as they broke through into a slightly larger space, the floor beneath them groaned.

Crack!

A sudden rumble reverberated through the passage, and the ground beneath Viv’s hooves gave way. She let out a startled cry as the stones crumbled, and she scrambled to keep her footing.

"Viv!" Meyla shouted, instinctively reaching out to grab her, but Teryn was faster, his strong legs catching Viv by the neck and yanking her back before she could fall.

"Careful!" he growled. "These passages are unstable."

Breathing heavily, Viv shook the dust from her mane, giving Teryn a grateful, if slightly rattled, smile. "Thanks. Guess I owe you one."

They continued on, more cautiously now. The narrow path opened up gradually until, at last, they entered a large, hollowed chamber. The air was cooler here, and the ground felt more solid beneath their hooves.

"This must be it," Dorian said quietly, looking around at the strange carvings that lined the walls. "We’ve reached a central chamber."

Teryn gave a short nod, scanning the area. "Let’s take a look around. There might be something useful here." He pointed to a large, dust-covered workbench against one wall. "Dorian, see if there’s anything we can use."

As Dorian moved toward the bench, the others spread out, taking in their surroundings. The room felt ancient, older than anything they had seen so far. Strange symbols marked the stone, and the air was heavy with the weight of time.

"Be careful," Teryn warned.

Dorian found himself drawn to the ancient pedestal in the center of the room. His curiosity led him closer to the dusty clutter on a nearby workbench that looked like it hadn’t been touched in centuries. Old tools, worn and cracked, were scattered across the surface, and strange trinkets—some rusted, some gleaming faintly—lay half-buried in dust.

Low Five floated ahead of Dorian, eagerly poking at the trinkets and tools scattered across the ancient surface. Dorian followed, brushing away centuries of dust to examine the objects more closely. Meyla, standing near the center of the chamber, shuddered. “I don’t like this place. It feels… off.”

Teryn, leaning against a wall, raised an eyebrow as Dorian brushed aside the dust and began rifling through the clutter. "Careful, Dorian. We don’t know what any of that might do."

Dorian’s voice cut through the stale air. “These tools are remarkable—old, but remarkably preserved. Whoever built this dungeon was meticulous.”

Meyla, still catching her breath from the tight corridor, gave a nervous glance toward Dorian. "I wouldn’t mess with anything here. This place is old and—"

Suddenly, there was a sharp click.

Dorian froze, his hoof having nudged an unseen mechanism inside the workbench. The sound echoed ominously in the small chamber, and Teryn immediately stood up and reached for Meyla. Viv, always quick to react, had her head on a swivel, eyes darting toward the walls as a faint rumble began to vibrate through the floor.

"Uh-oh," Viv muttered, her ears flicking with tension.

The walls around them groaned and shuddered, and for a moment it felt like the very ground beneath their hooves was tilting. Then, in an unnerving, fluid motion, the room rotated.

The group braced themselves as the chamber spun, the ancient stones grinding together with a deafening noise. The pedestal in the center remained fixed, but everything else—the walls, the exits, even the air—seemed to twist and rotate around them. The passage they had fought so hard to escape from disappeared, swallowed by solid stone.

By the time the rumbling ceased, the group was left standing in a new, unfamiliar room. The air was thick with dust and the stale scent of decay. Where there had been only one way in, now four exits stretched out from the chamber, each one barely distinguishable from the others, their darkened mouths yawning with the promise of deeper danger.

Teryn was the first to speak, his voice edged with frustration. "Dorian… what did you touch?"

“It wasn’t me! Well… not on purpose!” Dorian shouted back sheepishly.

Viv shook her head, her mane flicking with agitation. "Of course, it’s a trap."

Meyla, already on edge, backed away from the new exits. "We’re sealed in. I knew we shouldn’t have gone this far in. What now?"

Teryn scanned the four new exits, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge the least threatening path. "No way back, so we have to go forward. We just need to pick the right one."

Viv stepped up next to him, her keen eyes inspecting the new passages. "They all stink of stale air and dust. It’s impossible to tell which one is safe—or if any of them are."

Meyla’s voice trembled slightly. "We can’t split up. We’ll get lost if we do."

Dorian, still near the workbench, dusted off his coat and moved closer to the group, his mind already analyzing the situation. "There must be a reason for this mechanism. This kind of design is intentional—it’s meant to disorient us. But the dungeons are ancient. There may be clues we haven’t seen yet."

Teryn let out a frustrated sigh. "Great. So we’re standing in a trap with no idea which way is out."

Viv smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes despite the tension. "Well, I vote we go left. When in doubt, always go left, right?"

Teryn rolled his eyes. "We’re not basing our decision on that."

Dorian, his gaze focused on the walls, began to walk slowly around the chamber, inspecting the carvings that adorned the stone. "Wait. Look at the symbols here," he said, gesturing to a section of the wall near one of the new exits. "These markings—they might be indicators of what lies ahead."

Meyla, still wary, peered over at the carvings. "You really think those scratches mean anything?"

Dorian nodded thoughtfully. "They aren’t random. These dungeons were built with purpose, and the old builders left signs—if you know how to read them."

Viv tilted her head, intrigued. "So what do they say? Which one’s our best bet?"

Dorian ran his hoof gently over the carved stone, his brow furrowing as he deciphered the worn symbols. "This passage here," he pointed to the second exit from the left, "mentions something about a safe path leading to water. The others… they seem to warn of danger. One has symbols for flame, another for falling stone."

Meyla visibly relaxed at the mention of a safe path. "Water sounds better than fire or being crushed."

Teryn, still cautious, weighed the options. "Water could mean an underground river. But it could also mean a flooded passage. We’ll have to be careful."

Viv shrugged. "Better than fire, I guess."

With a plan in place, the group gathered at the entrance to the second passage, preparing themselves for whatever lay ahead. As they stepped forward into the new corridor, the oppressive weight of the dungeon seemed to press down on them again. The air grew colder, and the walls, though slightly wider than the previous passage, still felt too close for comfort.

Teryn took the lead once more, his senses on high alert. "Stay sharp. We’ve been lucky so far. Let’s not press it."

Meyla, now walking behind Dorian, tried to calm her nerves. "Let’s just hope this water path isn’t another trick."

Viv, taking up the rear, couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "Oh, Meyla, you know it’s always a trick. The question is, what kind of trick."