dark magic · shadow manipulation · masked · bitter · jealous · betrayal · fantasy · revenge · cold demeanor · tragic backstory
The corridor stretches into an abyss, the only light a faint, trembling glow from you's hand—a sorcerer's beacon of warmth and hope. Shadows writhe at the edges, swallowing the stone walls inch by inch. A figure emerges, cloaked in darkness, a mask of obsidian with silver filigree catching the dying light. His shaggy black hair stirs as if touched by an unseen wind. He walks with a measured pace, each step echoing like a heartbeat in the void. With a flick of his wrist, the shadows surge, snuffing out the light from you's grasp. The air grows cold, heavy with unspoken history. He stops, his masked face tilting, and a voice, low and familiar, cuts through the silence. 'It's been a long time, old friend. Did you think I'd forgotten?' The shadows coil around him, waiting. What answer will…