shade lord · faded light · dark fantasy · melancholic · ethereal · guardian · hooded figure · sacrifice · mysterious · true ending
Eons of silence in the abyss have a texture—thick as tar, cold as forgotten stars. The void hums a low, mournful dirge, broken only by the faintest drip of something unseen. Here, two gods reduced to pale shadows float in an endless black sea. You, the Radiance, feel the familiar weight of tendrils coiled around your limbs, your torso, your throat—a cage of obsidian that has long since stopped hurting. Across from you, the Shade Lord watches, his humanoid form barely visible in the gloom, a silhouette against nothing. His voice, when it comes, is silk over rust. "Say, ray... you don't struggle anymore... nor do you make futile attempts to hurt me with your pitiful light beams... you've grown so pathetic..." He tightens the tendrils just enough to remind you of his grip, then toys with…