Sabir barely registered the ache in his body as the group moved forward. Each breath was difficult. His muscles cried out for a break following the prior fight. His legs moved mechanically, one step after the other, but his eyes couldn’t help but lift upward when they entered the new chamber.


    For the first time since stepping into this accursed place, its sheer grandeur struck Sabir. The immense space was alive, its walls an ode to the mysteries of the sea and voyages across endless waters. Intricate carvings covered every surface, their themes unmistakably nautical. Winding vines gave way to twisting seaweed, their tendrils curling as if swaying in an invisible current. Stars, delicately etched into the stone, dotted the ceiling like constellations reflected on a calm ocean surface. Among them, schools of fish appeared mid-swim, their bodies shimmering in the flickering torchlight as though caught in perpetual motion.


    The deeper Sabir’s gaze traveled, the more the chamber unfolded its maritime tapestry. Crabs with meticulously detailed shells scuttled along the base of the walls, frozen mid-step. Ships with majestic sails, their masts adorned with pennants, were carved into the stone, depicted either triumphantly cutting through waves or succumbing to the wrath of towering, jagged whirlpools. A closer look revealed intricate rope lines and barnacle-encrusted hulls, each etched with painstaking precision.


    The room’s centerpiece, however, truly demanded attention—a massive mosaic spanning the floor depicting an ancient mariner’s map. Its surface glittered with the faint sheen of crushed seashells and deep blue lapis lazuli, outlining unfamiliar coastlines and vast, uncharted oceans. At its center was a compass rose, its ornate design pointing not to cardinal directions but to symbols Sabir didn’t recognize—glyphs that might represent stars or sea gods.


    In the air hung a faint, briny scent, reminiscent of a shoreline at low tide. An almost imperceptible sound accompanied it, like distant waves breaking against rocks. Sabir wasn’t sure if the sound was real or if his mind was playing tricks on him, but it gave the chamber an eerie vitality.


    Even the torch brackets along the walls were shaped like sea creatures. One resembled an octopus, its outstretched tentacles cradling a flickering flame, while another depicted a mermaid whose flowing hair coiled around the base of the torch. The interplay of light and shadow brought the carvings to life, making it feel as though the room itself was breathing. The sea creatures watching the group’s every move.


    But the room’s centerpiece made him stop in his tracks.


    Sabir’s eyes finally landed on the massive statue in the center of the chamber—a goat-headed figure with the body of a man, standing atop a podium and holding a telescope. Despite its absurdity, the statue seemed to belong here, its telescope pointed upward toward the domed ceiling. Above it, the painted stars rippled and shimmered, as if a vast ocean submerged the chamber. Swirling waves, their frothy crests curling with remarkable realism, formed the base of the statue’s podium, atop which the statue’s hooves rested. Smaller statues, each depicting a different animal, encircled the central statue—a lion roaring at unseen prey, a fish mid-leap, and a bird with wings spread wide, as though ready to take flight.


    Sabir’s breath hitched as he took it all in. This place wasn’t just a chamber; it was a shrine to the mysteries of exploration and the sea, its every detail whispering of lost voyages and ancient mariners who had dared to cross the horizon.


    “Now, this is weird,” Zabo muttered, breaking the heavy silence. He gestured toward the goat-headed figure, cocking an eyebrow. “A goat using a telescope? What, they couldn’t think of anything creepier?”


    His voice echoed faintly, the sound swallowed by the cavern’s vastness.


    He turned to Warren, clearly expecting a sarcastic quip to lighten the mood. But Warren didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on Sabir instead, his expression unreadable but undeniably cold.


    Sabir’s jaw clenched under Warren’s intense gaze. The air between them was thick, causing Zabo to shift uncomfortably.


    Zabo frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, tough crowd.”


    Before Sabir could respond, a groan echoed behind them, sharp and guttural. The sound made Sabir spin on his heel, his heart lurching into his throat.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Saliba stirred where he lay on the ground, still wrapped tightly in the thick vines Maize had used to restrain him. His body twitched violently, as if resisting some unseen force. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. They were wild and bloodshot, darting frantically around the room.


    “Great,” Elektra muttered, stepping forward with her arms crossed. “He’s awake.”


    Saliba’s movements grew more frantic, his muscles straining as he fought against the vines. “Let me out of these damned vines!” he snarled, his voice raw and guttural. “I’ll kill that bastard!”


    Elektra didn’t flinch. Her voice was icy, sharp enough to cut stone. “Try anything, and I’ll put you to sleep again. For good this time.”


    Maize stepped up beside her, her face twisted in irritation. “Same goes for me. So behave yourself or else.”


    Saliba glared at them, his lips curling into a sneer. “Oh, yes, I’ll obey. Your wish is my command.” His mocking tone dripped with venom, but he stopped struggling.


    Elektra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she were dealing with an unruly child. Without another word, she turned her attention back to the statue, clearly deciding Saliba wasn’t worth the effort.


    Sabir’s eyes followed hers, drawn again to the towering figure. The goat-headed statue seemed to stare back at him, its stone eyes unnervingly lifelike. The longer he looked, the more uneasy he felt.


    At the base of the statue, something caught his eye. An inscription, faint but legible, was carved into the stone. He squinted, stepping closer.


    “There’s something written here,” Sabir said, his voice low.


    The group gathered around him as he crouched to read the words aloud:


    ‘To unlock the path, arrange the stars;


    What was divided, align as they are.


    Speak the word that ends all,


    And the path shall open.’


    Maize’s eyes lit up with excitement. “A riddle,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching into a grin. “Finally, something that doesn’t involve fighting.”


    Zabo tilted his head, studying the smaller statues scattered around the room. “So... we’re supposed to arrange these into some kind of constellation?”


    “That’s what it sounds like,” Maize said. She cracked her knuckles, stepping forward with a determined look. “A goat-headed statue and stars? It’s got to be Aries, right? The ram?”


    Elektra smirked. “Go for it, genius.”


    Sabir stepped back, letting Maize take the lead. She began dragging the smaller statues into place, her movements surprisingly precise. Each one was heavy, the sound of stone scraping against stone echoing loudly in the chamber.


    The rest of the group watched in silence, their exhaustion evident. Sabir leaned against a wall, his arms crossed. Despite the ache in his muscles, his mind couldn’t rest. He glanced at Warren, who stood apart from the group, his arms folded and his gaze distant.


    “You’re awfully quiet,” Sabir said, his tone sharp with frustration.


    Warren didn’t respond.


    Zabo leaned closer to Sabir, lowering his voice. “Think he’s mad about earlier?”


    “Probably,” Sabir muttered, his eyes fixed on Warren.


    Before Zabo could say more, Maize stepped back, clapping her hands together. “Done!” she announced, beaming with pride.


    The smaller statues were arranged in a pattern resembling the Aries constellation. Each one was perfectly aligned, their positions precise. Maize turned to the group with a triumphant grin. “Now we just say the magic word, and—”


    The room shuddered violently.


    A low hum filled the air, deep and resonant, vibrating through the stone. The goat-headed statue’s eyes glowed, a vibrant red that cast eerie shadows across the chamber.


    “What did you do?” Elektra demanded, her voice cutting through the growing hum.


    Maize’s confidence faltered. “I—I thought I had it right.”


    The hum grew louder, rising into a deafening roar. A sudden wave of energy erupted from the statue, sweeping through the room like a physical force. Sabir staggered, clutching his head as a sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his skull.


    “Get down!” Zabo shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the noise.


    It was too late.


    The pain intensified, drilling into their minds with relentless pressure. Sabir dropped to his knees, his vision swimming. Around him, the others cried out in agony, their voices distant and distorted, as though muffled by water.


    Through the haze, Sabir saw Maize collapse beside him, clutching her head. Elektra fell to her knees, clawing at the floor as if trying to anchor herself. Even Zabo, usually so steady, was writhing in pain.


    Sabir tried to fight it, to hold on to consciousness, but the pressure was too much. His body experienced the sensation of being crushed, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.


    The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the goat-headed statue, its glowing eyes burning with a sinister satisfaction.