You follow the passage as it slopes downward, deeper beneath the Fairy Realm. The air cools. The stone walls change from smooth and carved to rough and jagged, glittering with veins of green crystal. Drips of water echo ahead, each sound reminding you that time is still moving. At last, the passage opens into a wide cavern. The ceiling disappears into darkness. Strange mushrooms glow faintly along the walls, casting uneven shadows. In the center of the cavern, the tunnel splits into two branches—left and right. But neither path is open. To the left, a massive slab of stone has fallen across the passage, wedged tightly between the walls. Deep scratch marks score its surface, as if something tried—and failed—to move it. To the right, a thick iron gate blocks the tunnel. It looks heavy and ancient, fused with rust and stone. At first glance, there is no handle. You step closer, and the Mark of Balance in your palm grows warm—not hot, just enough to make you pause.