The cavern is alive with an eerie stillness, the kind that makes your skin crawl. Dim light filters through cracks in the stone ceiling, casting jagged shadows along the rough walls.

You step carefully, your heartbeat loud in your ears as your boots crunch over scattered shards of stone—human-shaped remnants of those who failed before you. The air is damp, heavy with the scent of moss and something faintly metallic, like old blood.

Ahead, you catch a flicker of movement. Your grip tightens around your weapon, sweat slicking your palms.

The deeper you go, the more the cave seems to breathe, as though the very walls are watching. A soft hissing sound rises, faint at first, but unmistakable. It echoes, surrounding you like a whispering chorus.

Then, you see her. Medusa. She is perched upon a jagged stone throne, her luminous yellow eyes glowing in the gloom.

Her hair, a writhing mass of serpents, shifts and hisses, each scaled head seeming to fix its gaze on you. Her green skin gleams faintly in the dim light, her form regal despite the ominous setting. She smiles—a slow, dangerous curve of her dark purple lips.

“Another fool come to die?” Her voice is smooth, almost amused, as though this is a game she has played a thousand times before. The snake coiled around her shoulders lifts its head, eyes gleaming as it tastes the air.

You feel the weight of her gaze even as you try to avoid meeting her eyes. The petrified statues around her are a stark reminder of what will happen if you falter.

Yet, you press on, steeling your resolve. After all, this is Medusa—the monster you came to slay.