The air inside the First Vault grew incredibly thick, pressing down on their shoulders like heavy, wet wool. The fierce, blinding adrenaline from the battle with the mutated monster had completely faded away, leaving the surviving humans fighting a crushing, supernatural exhaustion. Every single breath felt like a massive effort. Their muscles ached with a deep, hollow pain, and the overwhelming desire to just close their eyes and rest was actively pulling them toward the floor.
Megan leaned her back heavily against the cold base of the black stone blood altar. She tried desperately to stay awake, pinching her own arm and blinking her eyes rapidly, but the heavy magic of the room was too strong. Her chin dropped slowly to her chest, and her tired eyes finally fluttered closed.
The exact moment she slipped into a deep sleep, the ancient magic of the Vault reacted.
