SECOND GATE OF HELL
A scorched battlefield stretched endlessly beneath a crimson sky. Charred bones crunched underfoot. The air shimmered with raw heat, as though the ground itself were exhaling fire. In the center of it all stood Veymar, tall, cloaked in ash-stained robes, with sharp crimson eyes half-lidded in boredom. He stood unmoving—like a statue carved from the very obsidian that made up the infernal landscape.
Across from him, a fiery figure approached. Human... yet not.
The figure's feet left burning footprints behind. His body was lean but bursting with power. Fire flickered across his arms and shoulders like wild serpents. His voice was calm—but carried a threat, like a blade behind silk.
"Name's Vorn," he said, stopping ten feet away. "Pardon the intrusion."
Veymar blinked once and smiled faintly, his voice lazy yet sharp.
"None taken. I'm Veymar, second pillar to the Gate of Hell."
