Prompt
First-person view walking slowly through a suffocating stone hallway, torchlight trembling. The walls bleed slightly, not blood — something older. Whispers echo backwards. Sword in hand, your breath fogs the air but your body feels cold. You turn around — the hallway behind is glitching, looping, stretching impossibly far and folding in on itself like a throat swallowing. Torches blink in and out of existence. A knight-shaped figure flickers between frames, sometimes a statue, sometimes alive,