It did not take long for them to understand the meaning of the message.
The city was already in motion before Sarissa and her team even reached the staging point. Scouts, scavengers, and freelancers poured out from every quarter, all of them converging in the same direction.
The cathedral ruins, at the city's farthest edge.
The dome had collapsed, the spires cracked like broken teeth, and ivy had swallowed what was left of its once-proud facade. But beneath the decay, the bones of something sacred remained.
And now, it had become the mouth of something far older.
The Dungeon had surfaced from the crumbled remains of the cathedral floor. A wide, circular fissure yawned open in its center, lined with stone glyphs none could read and mist that pulsed like a living thing. The wind here whispered secrets and warnings in languages older than nations.
