Dust. Everywhere there was that same layer of dust. Undisturbed and ancient as the very stone it sat on.

Something was different. The hallways felt newer and newer. The dust got less and less thick. Then, there it was. The dust was shifted. Pushed aside and crushed into the stone without a single care.

A single finger dragged alone the stone. It came off practically dust free. That was bad. It should've come off filthy. Clean meant something unknown. It could be a mix of things, and that was bad. The change was bad.

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Amidst the lack of dust was another tragedy hidden among the stone. There were scratches so small they were almost imperceptible. Tiny marks etched into the floor itself that led off down the hallway.

Even worse, the marks seemed to lead down to that room. Bad. Very bad. Things were sealed off for a reason. Ancient tombs should be left alone, and allowed to rest. Disturbing them without proper care would lead to complications.

And they hated unnecessary complications. So of course this would have to be looked into and taken care of before things escalated. A finger traced over one of the miniscule scratches.

Time was running out. All of this needed to be solved before more evidence of the intrusion was left behind. After all, this failure wouldn't stand. Not with them, not now.