Saída

The air, thick and cloying, clung to Leopoldo’s skin like a second, suffocating layer. It tasted of ozone and something else, something metallic and acrid that stung the back of his throat. They had emerged from the shadowed maw of the collapsed cavern, leaving behind the echoing silence of its destruction, only to be met by this… this liquid forest. Trees, if they could be called that, dripped with a viscous, phosphorescent sap that pooled on the spongy ground, reflecting the dim, alien light in sickly green and violet hues. The very air seemed to hum with an unseen energy, a resonant thrum that vibrated in Leopoldo’s bones.

“This is… unexpected,” he murmured, his voice raspy. He pushed a dripping frond aside, its surface slick and rubbery, and peered into the verdant, gelatinous expanse. The usual earthy scent of flora was absent, replaced by this unsettling, chemical tang.

Alterra, her face etched with a weary determination, stepped forward, her gaze sweeping across the strange landscape. “Unexpected, perhaps, but not insurmountable. The spirits guide our steps, Leopoldo, even into the unknown.” Her hand rested on the hilt of the crude weapon she carried, a silent promise of defiance.