Valdris Morgath moved through the Labyrinth's depths with purpose that transcended normal navigation, his mystical perception following traces that existed beyond conventional reality.
Amara followed twenty meters behind, her exhaustion mounting with each step despite her enhanced physical capabilities. The environmental pressure at these depths exceeded anything she'd experienced during training, making even basic breathing require conscious effort.
The Devil stopped suddenly, his wings spreading slightly in a gesture that might have indicated alertness.
"Interesting," Valdris murmured, his multiple-toned voice carrying contemplation rather than alarm.
"What is it, Lord Valdris?" Amara asked, forcing her voice to remain steady despite fatigue.
