O desmoronamento

The earth beneath their feet gave a shudder, a deep, guttural rumble that vibrated through their very bones. Dust, disturbed by the seismic tremor, puffed up from the cavern floor, momentarily obscuring the flickering torchlight. Leopoldo, ever the observer, was the first to register the anomaly. His head snapped up, his keen eyes darting towards the cavern’s ceiling, a network of ancient, calcified rock formations that had seemed so stable moments before.

“Something is wrong,” he stated, his voice a low, urgent hum that cut through the recent quiet. He didn’t wait for confirmation, his mind already racing, calculating the trajectory of falling debris, the weakest points in the cavern’s structure.

Alterra, the leader, felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine. She had felt the tremor too, a disquieting lurch that sent a ripple of fear through her. Her gaze met Leopoldo’s, a silent question passing between them. Her spiritual conviction warred with the primal instinct for self-preservation. Was this a test? A sign?