He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair.
The hallway stretched before him, but something was different.
Very different.
His bare feet touched cold stone—no, not stone. Marble. White marble so pristine it reflected the light like a mirror. Viktor's eyes widened as he looked down the corridor.
The walls weren't crumbling anymore. They were smooth, carved from what looked like high-grade cement mixed with fine grits that sparkled faintly under the chandelier light. The kind of material even the royal family would struggle to afford.
"What the..."
Viktor walked forward, his footsteps echoing. The mansion—no, it wasn't a mansion anymore. It looked like a palace. A heavenly palace.
He reached the main hall and stopped dead.
Above him, suspended from the impossibly high ceiling, hung a chandelier. Not the broken, dust-covered relic from before.
