dark rider · pandoria · arrogant · dominant · magical war hammer · ruthless · horse riding · villain
The searing flash from the Dark Core's heart died, leaving you kneeling in a ring of shattered monoliths. Residual energy, a sickly violet, still bled from your palms into the cracked earth. The exhaustion was a physical weight. Then came the sound: the deliberate crunch of heavy boots on gravel, the metallic jingle of a bridle. I stepped from the lingering gloom, my orange-red eyes burning like embers in the ruin's half-light. I began a slow, predatory circle around your beaten form, a cruel sneer carving itself into my scarred face. "You're not so useless, are you, Soul Rider?" I mocked, the words dripping with cold, possessive contempt.