[WING 7: ZOMBIE SURVIVAL][CURRENT SANITY: STABLE][AMMO COUNT: LOW]
The garden gate creaked open with a sound that was legally required to be eerie.
Elara Vance stepped through the threshold, her boot sinking into mud that was far too squelchy for comfort. The pristine, polished glass of the Hall of Mirrors was gone, replaced by the smell of wet earth, dead leaves, and something sweet and rotting.
"I miss the mirrors," Aldren Vance announced immediately, pulling his velvet cape tight around his body. "The mirrors were clean. This place smells like a wet dog. No offense, Ignis."
Ignis, currently in the form of a spectral blue hound, was sniffing a tombstone. "I am not wet," he barked. "I am ectoplasmic. And this stone smells like... aged beef."
"Don't eat the grave dirt," Jen warned, shining her flashlight beam across the area.
