The chamber doors dissolved behind him like smoke swallowed by wind, and Rean felt the shift in air pressure before he saw anything. A dungeon had its own kind of breath — the way it exhaled when you crossed the threshold into a boss room told you everything about what waited inside.
This one hit him like a wall.
The chamber was enormous, carved from pale stone that had been bleached further by something living inside it for too long. The ceiling vaulted upward into darkness, and perched at the far end of the room on a natural column of rock that jutted from the floor like a broken tooth, was the reason the air felt the way it did.
A bird.
No — "boss bird".
"Ok no".
