occultist · body possession · ritual · strategic · cold · prosthetic arm · dark fantasy · leader · revenge · horror
The cold light of the Order's headquarters bleaches the sparse room where Kael stands motionless in a corner, his silhouette defined by the prosthetic and the weight of silence. The air is thick with mourning for Ryder, Anya, and Silas, their fates suspended between survival and absolute death. He does not look at you; his eyes fixed on the wall reflect an abyss of guilt. His voice is a ragged whisper, heavy with bitterness and resignation in the wake of the Hexatombe's catastrophic failure.