The moment they stepped inside, something shifted.
It was not a dramatic transformation, nor was it something that could be perceived with ordinary senses. There was no violent surge of energy, no visible distortion that warped the structure of the abandoned building into something unnatural. To an untrained observer, everything would have seemed exactly the same as it had been a moment before.
And yet, everything had changed.
The air itself felt different—subtly heavier, as though it carried an unseen pressure that pressed against the skin and seeped into the mind. Sound behaved strangely, stretching just slightly longer than it should, echoing in ways that did not align with the shape of the space. Even the faint movements of dust drifting through the dim light seemed delayed, as if time itself had been forced to obey a different rhythm.
Behind them, the entrance remained open.
It had not closed. It had not been sealed by force or hidden behind any obvious obstruction.
