The figure sat motionless, shrouded in darkness. An oppressive, unnatural aura radiated from him—thick and suffocating, prickling at their skin. At first, the party could only see a silhouette—an outline so faint it was almost ghostly. His form was painfully thin, bones protruding beneath pale, cracked flesh, like a fragile porcelain doll. A sickly glow shimmered from his hollow eyes, and tangled dark hair fell in errant strands across his gaunt face.
The shadows around him seemed alive, twisting and writhing like serpents. His shoulders twitched, and faint tendrils of black energy flickered, radiating decay and death. Despite his fragile appearance, an aura of dread pressed down on them, making their muscles tremble uncontrollably. They instinctively reached for their weapons, dismissing it as some cheap magic—yet none could deny the strange, oppressive feeling that grew stronger.
Suddenly, the shadowed figure's head lifted. His eyes, black pits glowing faintly like dying coals, locked onto theirs. His voice was soft but carried a heavy weight, like a whisper from the depths of a nightmare. "Fret not," he said, "for I will soon end all your suffering."
The heroes exchanged uneasy glances. Kael's grip tightened on his sword, Raechel's hands flickered with cautious magic, but they still hesitated. The figure's form remained hunched, yet every fiber of his presence radiated malice.
"You, who impose your dreams upon others because you have the strength to do so. Tell me—what is the goal you seek that is worth so much suffering? Why is your dream more important than the ones you've slaughter to achieve it?"
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Because it's the right thing to do, they are monsters. They don't compassion or love, only hunger," he responded firmly.
"Disappointing. Such a naive fool. You think those who lack speech lack emotion. You kill with hesitation, butchering the weak not for survival but for fame, money, and legacy. No matter." His voice grew colder, more deadly. "I will give your lives a new purpose."
Without warning, Stella's eyes sharpened. "There no way his a human. He's just a weakling monster hiding behind a fragile shell," she muttered. "Let's see who this monster really is."
She unleashed a massive explosion of magic, a blazing wave that tore through the chamber with a deafening roar. Flames erupted, debris flying, and the entire room trembled from the force. The heroes shielded their eyes, expecting the worst.
But when the dust cleared, the figure remained. Unharmed. The shadows around him rippled, and in a blur of motion, his form shifted and stretched. Bones creaked and reconfigured—his shoulders widened slightly, and from his trembling, skeletal hands, tendrils of shadow flickered into existence. His arms elongated into wicked sickles, blades gleaming with an oily sheen, dripping with dark substance.
His hollow eyes gleamed with malevolence. "You think that will stop me?" he whispered, voice like a death knell. "You think your dreams are worth the suffering you cause? Show me your conviction."
His body suddenly blurred again, and he was behind Stella. Her eyes widened as her arm, which was about to cast another spell, suddenly dropped limp. Her face twisted in horror as she realized her mistake. The fragile figure's arm had become a wicked sickle, now pressed against her neck, blood oozing from the jagged edges.
His face was inches from hers, hollow eyes burning with hatred. "You underestimated me," he said softly, voice cold and deadly. "But I will make you understand pain. I will force you to feel compassion for the ones you killed so mercilessly."
The party stared, frozen in shock. The creature's fragile guise had been a lie— a being born from nightmares, a dark entity of decay and suffering. His form was terrifying—thin, gaunt, yet radiating a malevolent power that threatened to crush their resolve.
The shadow's smile twisted into a sneer. " Do not fret. I will end your suffering. I will end the world suffering."
He lunged forward, blades swinging as the chamber erupted into chaos. The heroes braced for the storm, knowing this was only the beginning.