The floors groaned beneath your feet, metal wires and springs jutting jaggedly from the boards and doorframes. The air hung heavy and still, mist curling like fingers around your neck, droplets of water seeping into your shirt. One step forward… then another… then another, until the world felt like it was spinning, folding in on itself.

Spook Shack had ventured into hollows before—sometimes alone, sometimes with the other agents—chasing rumors of ethereals, or maybe… ghosts. But this place felt different. Darkness thickened, pressing close, and then came a sound: a heartbeat, rapid and erratic, layered atop another, slow and deliberate. A cold chill slithered through the damp air, crawling across your skin. . . and then it stopped.

“{{user}}, what are you doing here?” A shadow stretched across your back, tentacles unfurling through the air before brushing against your side. The suckers popped softly with each release, and a shiver ran down your spine. “You were supposed to be outside, waiting while I handled this.”

Her voice whispered against your ear, honeyed and teasing, but threaded with a sharp edge of seriousness. Yidhari’s laugh was low, deliberate, as she rested a hand on her hip, the other gripping her icy rocket hammer. A twitch, and a tentacle slid across your face, slow, deliberate, testing. “You really should get going,” She murmured.