"You… you wretched insect… how dare you strike me down…" rasped the melting corpse, its words gurgling through rivulets of black ichor that oozed from its warped jaw. Its flesh bubbled and sagged, a thick, tarry sludge slipping into the scarlet-mottled earth. Before it stood a young warrior, blood-spattered sword resting at his side, the steel's edge glinting dully in the dying light.
The dying horror fixed him with a single, unblinking eye—its left socket a knot of congealed gore. "You… you will regret the day you felled me," it snarled, voice crackling like brittle bones. "Mark my words—I will return… and rend your soul in torment." It spat, and a glistening glob of black slime hissed against the warrior's boots before sliding into the crimson-streaked soil.
A cold, mirthless laugh tinkled through the air. The young man's lips curved into a sneer. "That will never happen, demon," he replied, voice sharp as shattered glass. "You'll be dust before your vengeance stirs. Mercy's wasted on your kind—your arrogance sickens me." He spat back; the droplet of blood slapped against the corpse's exposed skull with a muted thud.
A low, throaty growl gurgled from the creature's throat. "I will kill you… you insolent fool…" it threatened, though its words trembled with feeble fury.
"Not in this life, Cipher." A new voice rumbled from the shadows—deep, resonant, almost bestial. The corpse, known as Cipher, twitched and lifted what remained of its head toward the speaker. "Drago?" it rasped, disbelief lacing its tone. A thunderous, mocking laugh answered.
Drago emerged into the dying torchlight, muscles coiled beneath midnight-black armor. "Indeed, my old friend," he proclaimed, his voice echoing off broken columns. "It is I, Drago, Sin of Wrath." The last fragments of Cipher's flesh sloughed away, leaving only skeletal hands knuckling the dirt, bound by twitching strands of ebony ichor.
Cipher's single eye flared with fury. "Why…?" he choked out, agony and betrayal warring in his voice as he stared at the newcomer. The young warrior remained at Drago's side, blade poised in silent readiness.
"Because I coveted your throne," Drago said evenly. "I knew you wouldn't relinquish it willingly, so I found a champion to do my bidding. This mortal here—he ended your reign."
Bile churned in the reeking corpse's throat. "Pathetic," Cipher hissed, a brittle laugh escaping him. "You stoop to a human? A coward."
Drago's lips curved into a cruel smile. "But it is the same human who felled you."
Defiance flickered in the skeletal creature's eye. "You will pay for this!" he growled, striving to rise, yet his body slumped back—a collapsed heap of bone and viscous black sludge.
"No," Drago said softly, feigning compassion. "Your legacy ends now. Rest well, old friend." At his signal, the young warrior swung his blade in a wide arc. With a resounding crack, steel met bone and the gnarled skull splintered, shards scattering across the rubble. The sword's tip sank into the earth, drinking the final vestiges of Cipher's unlife.
Silence descended upon the desolate temple as the victor released the hilt and turned away, leaving the ruined sword as a grim monument to the fallen Sin of Pride. "I always admired him," the Sin of Wrath murmured, voice heavy with a tinge of regret. "But sometimes a student must surpass the master. Sleep in the silence you earned, master."
Cipher, Sin of Pride.
—
Hours later, the shattered temple lay deserted beneath a blanket of stars. At its center, the inky pools of Cipher's remains lay still and grotesque, absorbing the pale moonlight. Then—a tremor rippled through the viscous surface.
A single bubble swelled, blossoming before it burst with a soft pop. Moments of eerie calm followed, then the dark tide quivered more violently, bubbling as it slithered from the ruined steps and across the dusty courtyard.
Where the pitch-black ooze pooled on the cold earth, the surface split open, revealing a yawning maw rimmed with jagged, ivory teeth. No tongue lay within—only an abyss so black it swallowed the scant light. The malformed jaws flexed, and a voice, hoarse and jagged, rasped a single name: "Dr…a…go…" Each syllable trembled with wrath and promise.
The twisted mouth whispered its vow to the silent ruins. "You both will pay… I shall kill you… Drago, you traitor…"