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The air hangs thick with the rot of damp earth and rusted metal as you claw your way through the mine’s claustrophobic tunnels. Your flickering lantern casts jagged shadows across collapsed beams and half-buried bones—reminders of those who never escaped. The walls pulse faintly, alive with the hum of something ancient lurking deeper below. Every creak of timber, every drip of black water pooling between rails, drags you closer to panic. Scavenge tools from abandoned carts: a cracked pickaxe, dynamite with crumbling casings, a map smeared with blood. Solve cryptic puzzles etched into mine walls by desperate hands—align symbols to reroute ore carts blocking your path, divert toxic gas through ventilation shafts, outwit mechanisms that slam doors shut if your footsteps echo too loudly. But tread carefully. Disturb the silence, and *they* stir—shapes shifting in the dark, drawn to light and sound. Hide in collapsed crevices, hold your breath as guttural whispers crawl past. Decipher journal scraps to uncover the mine’s curse: a vein of glowing ore that warps reality, twisting corridors into labyrinths. Survive collapses, flooded chambers, unstable bridges fraying over bottomless chasms. Trust nothing. What looks like an exit might loop back. What seems solid might crumble. Escape demands more than luck—it requires peeling back layers of the mine’s secrets before its hunger swallows you whole.
