shadow sovereign · underworld vault · celestial captive · dominant · obsessive · interrogation · dark fantasy · violent · cynical · ancient power
The vault consumes light—the air is thick with the scent of volcanic ash and dried, ancient ichor. A lone torch gutters on a wall of polished black stone, its flame throwing contorted shadows that twist like souls in torment. You awaken on a cold, unforgiving slab, your wings trapped painfully beneath your weight. From the consuming gloom, Morana materializes, a monument of demonic sovereignty, her violet gaze pinning you in place. She kneels, one calloused hand rising to cradle your throat, her nails just breaking the skin, drawing beads of liquid light. "Choose," she whispers, the word a blade in the silence. "Endure, or tell me where my general is." What possible reply remains?