"This!" I exclaimed.
The door creaked open with a low metallic groan that echoed through the room beyond — making it feel less like a door being opened and more like a tomb being disturbed.
The air that spilled out was colder. Thicker. Like something old and damp and rotting.
Juliana froze.
Even I — knowing what to expect — felt the subtle coil of unease wrap itself around my throat.
Rexerd's secret lab was… wrong.
It wasn't just messy or chaotic — it was simply wrong.
Everything here felt like it had been twisted out of shape, like some unseen force had warped the air itself.
The floor was clean. Too clean. As if blood had been scrubbed from it too many times.
Every surface gleamed with a sickly sheen under dim, green-glassed alchemical lamps bolted into the ceiling.
The soft light cast flickering shadows across a series of glass containment pods that lined both walls.
