Evan's POV
I land hard, boots kicking up dust as I steady myself.
The air here is stale, ancient, thick with the scent of forgotten time.
The room is small—stone walls, cracked floors, dim lighting that has no visible source. At the very center, an altar stands, untouched by time. And on top of it—
A small rusty reflective mirror.
The legendary artifact.
My breath stills, my body tensing.
But before I can move—
Daelan lands right beside me.
My head snaps toward him.
His violet eyes flicker between me and the mirror, calculating.
How the hell did he get here so soon?
People would be trapped in this dungeon for weeks, months—lost in illusions, drowning in their own fears.
I don't even know how long I've been here.
But somehow, he arrived at the exact same time as me.
It doesn't make sense.
Daelan takes a slow step forward, his hands slipping casually into his pockets.
"Is this the part where we fight?" he muses, voice dripping with amusement.
