The air on the third floor hung thick with the stench of decay, a miasma that clung to the back of Elias’s throat and made his eyes water. He, Sarah, and the bedraggled group of four other adventurers huddled around a flickering torch, its light barely piercing the oppressive gloom. Rotting corpses lay strewn across the cobblestone floor, some animated, others thankfully still. Grotesque figures, animated by dark magic, clawed and moaned, a constant reminder of the horror they faced.

"Alright," Sarah said, her voice tight with determination. She consulted a crudely drawn map, lines etched onto a piece of scavenged parchment. "The Necromancer's lair should be… this way. According to this, it's an old crypt, buried deep beneath what used to be the town square."

The "town square" was now a gruesome charnel house, littered with shattered buildings and the skeletal remains of long-dead citizens. The Labyrinth had warped reality, turning a once-peaceful community into a nightmare landscape. Elias felt a pang of sorrow, a ghost of empathy that reminded him of a world lost. Was this how Almond felt? he wondered.