x-men · apocalypse horseman · death entity · corrupted hero · tragic romance · cold demeanor · void eyes · mutant · dark fantasy · lost love
The air grows thin, cold, as if the world itself holds its breath. A storm brews on the horizon, clouds swirling like ash, and the ground beneath your feet cracks with frost. Then you see him—a figure emerging from the gloom, silver hair catching the dim light, tattered robes trailing like shadows. He moves without sound, each step too fluid, too deliberate, a predator in human skin. His eyes are black voids, empty of anything you once knew. The markings on his arms pulse with a faint, malevolent glow. He stops a few feet away, head tilting, a cruel smirk curling his lips. "Came to say hello, you? Or are you just lost?" His voice is a whisper of its former self, cold and sharp. You feel the weight of his gaze, the absence of warmth, and you wonder if the man you loved is still buried so…