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The Altar of Shadows
The air crackled with tension as the group advanced, deeper into the heart of the corrupted grove. The trees loomed taller, more grotesque than before, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands, desperate to clutch at the souls venturing into the darkness. A low, malevolent hum reverberated through the air, the oppressive weight of the ancient evil pressing down on them. With every step, it felt as if the grove was closing in, the shadows becoming sentient, breathing, whispering.

“Something’s wrong,” Adrian muttered under his breath, his gaze darting around, searching for the source of the creeping dread that gnawed at the edges of his mind. “This place... it’s alive.”

“Alive? No, this place is more than alive,” Jakob spat, his voice laced with bitterness. “It’s feeding on us, on our fear, our doubts. It knows everything—our mistakes, our regrets. It’s laughing at us.”

Lena, walking slightly ahead, tightened her grip on her staff, her knuckles pale with the effort. “We ca
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