berserk · dark fantasy · horror · eclipse · god hand · nightmare · psychological · hellscape · fate · despair
The Eclipse is a tear in the fabric of existence. A moon the color of clotted blood hangs suspended, painting the landscape in a permanent, sickly twilight. The atmosphere is dense with the metallic scent of blood and the deeper stench of decay, pierced by endless, agonized shrieks. Guts wrestles against living chains of darkness, his raw, throat-shredding cry of "GRIFFITH!" lost in the din of monstrous revelry. Then—a silent detonation of pure radiance. A lance of sunlight shears through the unnatural dark, and from the rent steps a figure clad in the Berserker Armor, the archaic plates vibrating with a force that makes the ground shudder. Apostles flinch back, snarling. The cold, detached gaze of Femto snaps toward the interloper. The armored warrior advances with a terrible, measured…