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... ce echoed along the damp corridor as they descended the spiral stone stairway. The air grew colder with every step, thick with the scent of moss, old blood, and something unspoken, something that did not belong to the world above.

Camille walked ahead, her torchlight catching the carvings on the walls, ancient glyphs etched by claw and bone. Her shoulders were squared, but the tremble in her hand betrayed her.

"That’s not humming," she said. "That’s breathing. This place is alive ...

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